Pow Pow City

Ocean's 11 isn't too bad. It's overly talky, as most Soderburgh films are, however, it's excellently paced and pretty well acted. But I'm not here to talk about decade old movies playing on HBO at 1:30 on a weekday afternoon.

Mammoth Mountain was the place to be this past weekend as the Roxy Chicken Jam descended on Northern California! Ria and I left Friday morning and had a very uneventful drive. The weather was beautiful the whole way up after they got 24" of snow the day before. But they'd done a great job of clearing the roads, so we found it curious that chains were required for the last couple of miles. I have video of our reaction, but I don't like my voice in it. Is that really how I sound? Kinda Travis Pestrana-ish? Ugh. Maybe that's why I'm into writing now. Anyway, we were annoyed. We decided to take them off when we stopped at the leasing office. Rebels! 


After settling in, we took the shuttle up to Main Lodge for an apres ski event, which for us was apres drive. I've been in town less than an hour, and I'm already getting free beer. My mood was buoyant. We even made a flip book!

After dinner and a few more drinks, we decided to call it a night knowing that we wanted to make an early start in the morning. We woke to our housemates who'd arrived over night and to snow that wouldn't stop falling all day. 


I don't have pictures or video, but imagine the funnest glade runs possible, add some more snow, subtract the Eskimo women draped in Caribou skins, and that's what it was like. Visibility was poor on most of the open runs, especially right off the chairs. In fact the top wasn't even open, so it wasn't a perfect day. The peeps who stayed for Sunday and Monday and hell, the rest of the week got that. (Miss Crunk can show you how much snow there was.) But the tree runs on the lower half of the mountain off Chair 8 were really really good. If I'm only going to get one day in this season, which appears to be the case, that was a great day to have.
 
Ok, time to wrap up. I know reading about someone else's good time can be annoying. That night, one of our group, I won't say who, but their company had an event in town, "made a commitment to party" and by the end of the night, I was faded, just water skiing in her wake. We were very very tempted to ride on Sunday, but the pain of leaving powder behind was tempered somewhat by our discovery of Dick's Smoke Wagon in Big Pine. Just outstanding. Next season there will be multiple Mammoth invasions.

I have no idea what to write about

I really don't. But I've had a few fractions of ideas so as I do sometimes, I'm just gonna go and see what happens.

I'm addicted to the NCAA tournament. Or maybe just to the idea of the tournament. I can't imagine not filling out a bracket. I think I've been doing it since the 5th grade or something and I can't remember a year when I wasn't in a pool.  As a kid I  was so goddamn excited looking at fresh bracket in the sports section on Monday morning after the selections were announced. As with a lot of sports-related things a lot of the romance, goes back to my youth, to my dad, to a simpler time. That sounds cliche, but it's true. 

Watching these games reminds me of being in high school and talking to friends about the first round upsets in between classes. It reminds me of St. Patrick's Day 2000 when I got drunk in the dorms while watching games and ended up breaking my hand. I think a lot of people feel the way I do, whatever their method for hearkening back to the good old days. Who doesn't love a good heark? 

The 2000 Tournament. Trust me.

Now, as the title of this blog tells you, I'm only 30 so it's not as if I'm a jaded old man (although I'm looking REALLY forward to that). The tourney gives me the opportunities to make new memories. Will they be as sweet as the ones from my carefree college days? No. Of course not. At least not my freshman year. But I guess I have to look at things through a different prism or something. Maybe 10 years from now I can write about how in 2011 my fiancee kicked the fucking shit out of me even though I'd spent hours pouring over advanced basketball metrics and she made her picks while eating breakfast as I called out the match-ups. Maybe in 10 years I'll find this hilarious, but right now on the afternoon of 3/18/11, losing by four games, I'm pissed.


Didn't mean to write that much about hoops. That's how it goes though...Here's something else I think is interesting. It could be a topic for my other, health/fitness related blog, but I feel like writing about it here. Obviously, I'm an attractive enough guy. Obviously. I did ok with the ladies over the years (yes, that was past tense) and I still catch them checking me out from time to time. But what if I was a woman with a proportional fitness level? How would a man see me? Oh God, that sounded gay didn't it! HA! But think about it, aren't women held to a higher standard? Like, I'm not at all embarrassed when I'm at the pool, for example. I've been working out, and I look ok. But if I were a chick at the pool, in my heart of hearts, I would probably look like this:

Decent, not great. This girl's body certainly is not unattractive, but no one would mistake her for Irina Shayk. Is this making any sense at all? By the way, I typed "average girl in bikini" into Google and turns out there's an Average Girls in Bikinis page on Facebook! Don't believe me? Boom.

So ladies, I feel your pain. I'm trying to hold myself to the high standard that your gender has set. Oh advertising and the media set that standard? Whatever.

California Hate

Two Sundays ago I watched my third Super Bowl here in California and that got me thinking. "Wow, I've watched three Super Bowls here in California. That's probably long enough for me to have a fairly well formed idea of the place"...and it's fuckin great! What did you think I was gonna say? We've got near constant sun and near legal weed! You can surf solid waves pretty much whenever you want and the tacos are unbelievable. 

But I'm not here to brag. In fact I want to make my brothers and sisters back east feel a little better, since they still have snow on the ground from Christmas. So then, here are the top several worst things about California.

No delicatessens. The only place to get cold cuts is the supermarket and the only thing worse than the roast beef is the service. Back home, people take pride in selling and buying high quality meats. That's just not the case here.


Pizza sucks. The crust, the sauce, the toppings, the construction. It all sucks. Except for little Italian joint near my apartment. It's great! Score! But back to the suckiness, most places just don't get it. "Let's dump 6 pounds of random toppings on top of our frozen crust. Awesome dude!"


Avocados. They put them on fucking everything out here. Pizza included. 

Just when you thought this would be an all food list...


Traffic/the drivers themselves.  It's difficult to compare the traffic problems among some of the places I've lived. The DC metro area, Northern New Jersey, and now Southern California are all unbearable at times and I can't say if it's definitely worse out here. According to this list, it is but at least drivers in the first two places are comfortable driving in the rain. People lose their minds at the first sign of drizzle and start sliding all over the 405. Also, no one uses their turn signals. No one.

Crowded lineups. I said earlier that you can surf solid waves whenever you want. I lied, it's small right now. But when it does get good, you're out with 75 dudes no matter where you go.

Ok, this is South Africa. Whatever. 

  
Smog. Beautiful sunsets, ugly lungs.


That's all I feel like writing can think of right now. So take heart, frigid east coasters. Temperatures are warming for you, and it's not that nice out here anyway.

Just because we're bereaved doesn't mean we're saps!

I'm at Pep Boys, writing this on my iPhone. It's a pain in the ass, but so what? I'm at Pep Boys for the second time this week! I love car maintenance! Though aside from the expenditure, it hasn't been too bad. I jogged home from Pep Boys the other day and have gotten to walk the Costa Mesa streets a bit. That's something I miss about Hoboken and Manhattan; just being out and about in humanity. Actually, that sounds like it sucks. And it did sometimes, but you know what I mean. It's nice to walk places. 

It's been almost two weeks since my dad's memorial service. How was that for a segue? The urn (which at $395 was not their most modestly priced receptacle) looked great and their were tons of pictures along with his golf memorabilia and trophies. Even his clubs were in the room. The minister said some very kind things and I even managed to choke back the tears and say a few words. To be honest, other than he general suckiness of the occasion, Matt, Ria and I had a pretty good time in Columbus. Not a bad little town there.

Ok, back home and on a computer. That's nice. But anyway, I'm doing well. Having my man Scotty D out here has been awesome. The kid has been training his ass off by day and painting Orange County red by night and more reinforcements arrive from Jersey next week. We're taking over like the South Park episode. Updates to come.

In closing, a bit of news: I've been asked to contribute content to a health website. Because when you think about health and general fitness, you think "Scott Jones." Again, more info as it becomes available. Stay warm northeasterners!

Love you dad!

I wish Liverpool's uninspired defeat to Blackburn Rovers was the worst thing that happened to me on Wednesday January 5th. If I was most upset about a Steven Gerrard penalty miss and a once proud club slipping ever closer towards irrelevance that day, fine. But it wasn't even a distant second on my list. There was no second worst thing. That's because my father, Robert Scott Jones, Sr. died of a heart attack that morning. He was only 59.

Thank God he called me on New Year's Eve. If he hadn't, I might be writing about how bad I feel for not having returned his call from a few days prior. I still feel bad, because I meant to call him on Monday or Tuesday and didn't. I had things I wanted to tell him.  Having spoken to him just a few days before his death does make it a bit easier, but I never got to tell him about how on Tuesday, I chipped in for birdie on the 18th. He would have loved it! Anyway, he was in a great mood that night, (as was I) and he asked me to pass the phone around so he could wish Ria and Chase a happy New Year too. That's just the kind of guy he was.

He was really looking forward to my wedding, and I know there were people who were looking forward to seeing him, and that's been the hardest part of all this. Shit, by that time it would have been three years since I'd seen him face to face. So instead of toasting with him, I'll be toasting for him and that will have to do. 

Obviously, this has been a tough week. But I've had help. My friends Jayme and Sara were here when I got the news, which must have been awkward for them! But they were great. I was also very lucky to have my man Scotty D. flying in to spend a few weeks out here in sunny California. I like to think the Man Upstairs was trying to help me out a bit by sending some extra support out here. 

(Side note- The night before I got the bad news, Jayme came back from San Diego with some pot that can only be described as "bomb-ass." Everything I've smoked before is garbage. I would find out later that it's called Fire Kush, and I swear to God, it helped me through this. It was like Xanex, but way funner. I now truly believe in medical marijuana.)

I also want to thank everyone who's called or texted these last few days. It really does help. But I think I'll wrap this up now. Dad always said that life goes on and he wouldn't want me or my brother Matt to spend very much time being sad. I sure do miss him though.

I am still a blogger

Greetings in the new year! I've been away a few weeks, and I know you've missed me. This post was originally going to be a detailed recap of my trip home to Jersey for Christmas. While there was enough material for an entire post (or two), I'm a good week late on this, so I decided just to briefly sum up each day of the trip.

Weds 12/22- Poker night at Scotty's. Drank too much scotch and went all in with 10-6, off-suit. Also had beers at the Broadway in Pt. Pleasant. Happy birthday Stu, if you read this.

Thurs 12/23- Wight Family Christmas party. Thumbguns and spilled wine. A great time as always. Jayme (and Sarah) are actually staying with us here in OC right now.

Two of these sweet little holes are Ria's. One is mine.

Christmas Eve- Received the Holy Eucharist, ate fish, and took part in a new family tradition of Jameson shots. I wish this was an old family tradition, but better late than never.

Christmas Day- Prosecco with breakfast. Gave my mom a TV and got a surround sound system. Homemade game of Minute to Win It, got second place. Also hung out with some knuckleheads at JR's in Seaside, which was a great time, but what happened to Dave and Petey?

Boxing Day (UK and Canada)- The snow started mid-day and the Giants controlled their own density. Oh, what I meant to say was, "their own destiny." They got schooled and I drank scotch.

Mon 12/27- The snow stopped mid-day, and that's about it. Played scrabble and drank a little scotch.

Tue 12/28- Dug out my mom's car and beasted it up to EWR (learn your airport codes). As you might have read on the Good Book, I gave a skycap $20 to check our bags because the line to check in was absolutely insane. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that it was the entire lower level of Terminal C. I wish I had a picture. The news was there. Anyway, I thought I was ballin', but since we ended up being delayed several hours, the return on investment took a slight hit. Better than waiting in that line though.

Random Asian woman stuck in Terminal C at Newark Airport

You can see the pattern here. But despite the consumption, I have pretty good recall of everything. Trips home mean everything to me and it was great to see everyone. Well not everyone, but most folks. 2011 is going to be big for me and I hope it'll be big for all of you as well. Yes, all 12 of you. I want to write more frequently and I've got some ideas for future posts. We'll see what happens.

Uh, it's real. This is real.

I never envisioned myself in the position I find myself in now. I'm blogging from a Starbucks. I can't tell you how unnerving it was to type that sentence. It's incredibly cliché at this point, isn't it? Very 2004 or sometime several years ago when nerds, previously tied down by a lack of WiFi, self-esteem, and melanin, emerged from their parents' basements, emboldened by free wireless and the idea that their inane opinions might be more interesting if they had a URL. And guess what? That's right, bird brain, they were.

Don't look at me! I'm hideous!

Fueled by caffeine (and marijuana), the nerds became hipsters and scenesters and foodies.  Trust fund babies with no practical skills whatsoever built empires based on telling people what they drank at which club, or something! Right? Haven't they? Probably. And now, all their hot air, along with the steam from their lattes, has risen high above the Earth, forming the blogosphere. Zing.

But thanks to these digital pioneers, I felt comfortable enough to start my own blog, and I thought I'd give the Starbucks move a try. This entry is about sports.

Sports have been on my mind more than usual lately, which is saying something. If you think this is because I have no identity of my own anymore, and that I rely on the performance of my favorite teams to find meaning in my life, well you'd be right. I mean wrong! I mean, okay, maybe you're kinda right! If you think about it, if you really take a few minutes to think about it, you'd have to agree that caring about professional sports is actually insane behavior. No well adjusted person's mood should be affected by the millionaires wearing blue shirts scoring more points than the millionaires wearing red shirts. It's totally illogical. Seinfeld was right, we're rooting for laundry.

But who cares! It's late December! The NFL playoff picture is coming into focus! The Premiere League is entering the intense Christmas period when some clubs will play three matches in six days! The good NBA teams are separating themselves from the herd! The MLB Hot Stove is on high with trades and free agent signings galore! Hockey is a sport!

Let me briefly focus on each of these areas as they pertain to my interests.

Giants football is about running the ball and pressuring the opposing QB. The GMen have been doing both very well the last few weeks and we need to keep it up against the hated Eagles on Sunday. They're a good team. But I think the media has made the idea of playing the Eagles more daunting than actually playing them (unless you're the Redskins, where real life is worse than any nightmare). Had Eli slid in Philly, we were right in that game.  We contained Vick, and the Giants are better than they were a month ago, so we win at home 31-24. And there will be a work stoppage next year.

This next beloved team of mine has underperformed for the last 4-5 years amid rampant injuries, front office controversy, managerial changes, disappointing acquisitions, and a general lack of direction, while many of their geographic and symbolic rivals have steadily improved, some winning championships. Wait a minute, am I talking about Liverpool FC or the Mets? Oh, this describes both clubs! Fantastic! I've accepted the fact that LFC and NYM are in transitional phases (I won't say "rebuilding"), and I'll be somewhat patient with them this season. Look out in 2012!

Kindred spirits

The Celtics/Knicks game was fantastic last night. The talent level in the NBA might be at an all-time high and I haven't been this interested since MJ retired. The Heat might be good all of a sudden. And there will be a work stoppage next year.

Hot Stove- I already said the Mets aren't doing anything this year. I think Cliff Lee signed somewhere though.

You're allowed to fight in hockey!

I'm tired now. Until we meet again.