Tuesday, August 28, 2018

(stevo sighing in abject disgust) here we go again ...

"If you only once would let me;
Only just one time!
Then be happy with the consequence?
With whatever's gonna happen tonight.

Don't think we're not serious --
When's it ever not?
The love we make?  It's give and it's take --
And I'm game?  To play?  Along ...

All I can say?
I shouldn't say!

But can we take a ride?
Get out of this place,
While we still have time?

You wanna take a ride?
Get out of this place,
While we still have time --
Yeah, we still have time! ...

I can't say I was never wrong;
But some blame?  Rests on you!
Work and play?  They're never ok,
To mix?  The way?  We do.

All I can say?
I shouldn't say!

But can we take a ride?
Get out of this place,
While we still have time?

You wanna take a ride?
Get out of this place,
While we still have time --
We still have time!!!! ..."

-- "Work" by Jimmy Eat World, which (and this phrase is gonna be typed a few times in this post), which, "in the interest of full disclosure", is one of my six favorite songs of all time.

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The last two weeks of August are always kind of rough for me.  Primarily for three reasons.

One of my best friends growing up, took his own life August 20th, fourteen years ago.

(And four days later, at a concert he was slated to attend with me * and a group of friends, I witnessed what I thought was the single most ridiculous thing I'd ever write about: me, breaking down for twenty plus minutes, sobbing like a newborn baby in need of a bottle, in a bathroom stall at whatever the hell they call Sandstone now, as the weight of that event finally hit me raw.)

(Although in my defense, I was in desperate need of a bottle.  (scott hall voice) Hey yo!)

Six years ago, the person I counted as my best friend in life, effectively murdered that relationship, via a text message from his wife on August 15th that kicked off all kinds of ugliness I'm not ready to have a bathroom breakdown moment about yet, all these years later.

(Denial: no longer just a river in Egypt!)

And like clockwork, to complete the trifecta, you can always -- always! -- count on the Red and Gold doing something ridiculous, mentally challenged, and / or legally questionable, when it comes to tailgating and parking, as the preseason ends.

So I guess I should start by congratulating the Kansas City Chiefs, for at least upholding their end of the bargain.  As I've noted many, many times in my past, when I judge someone's actions: "I don't ever get pissed when you meet my expectations for you".

So congrats, Chiefs, on meeting my barest minimal expectations for you ** . 

Because you never fail to.

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(*: the version linked above, never fails to make me cry.  Cannot believe it's been a year.)

(**: I'd forgotten how miserable that Eagles tailgate started out as.  Also, whoever the hell is lifting the flag in the Alex Smith jersey in the video inside the linked article (and given the video's location, he's raising that bad boy maybe three, four rows in front of where we tailgate) -- I want those shorts.)

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In case you missed it, the Chiefs are effectively ending tailgating as we knew it, uuh, effective this season.  They've decided that if you're just (luke bryan voice) here to party, that's not good enough for them.  Either you use your ticket to enter the stadium, or you will be (presumably) forcibly removed from the Truman Sports Complex.

(I loved Sam Mellinger's tweet imaging how that is gonna play out.)

Now, in the interest of fairness, on the scale of dumb f*ck retarded Chiefs parking and/or tailgating ideas, this falls somewhere between "herding cars through police crime scene tape to the front of the lot" and "not letting you use cones to save spots". 

(For me, that'd rate about halfway between "doesn't affect me" and "you're getting on my nerves".)

Because for me, this is at worst a minor inconvenience.  Ditto for pretty much every person I've tailgated with for (hang on, carry the six ...) thirty plus years and counting.

And yet, it should be a major annoyance for any fan of this team ... because the rationale and/or reasoning for this decision, is so dumb f*ck stupid?

Stevo Rule 34 is being invoked *** .

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(***: it's now Stevo Rule Uno.  (Pause).  Yeah, probably should have been eight years ago too.)

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I've never driven to rode to arrived at Arrowhead for a game, without the intention to enter the stadium for the game.  I've always either had my ticket on me, or was armed with cash to scalp one.

(And only once have I shown up for a Chiefs game and failed to enter, in fact: the Steelers Sunday Nighter in 2011, when I puked (at least) 6 times during tailgating while braving a 104 degree fever, and I was ordered to go home, which "The Ex" so kindly took me to, (brantley gilbert voice) back in the day.)

(And yes, I still stand behind every word in that linked post.  The past can't be changed.  Although how sometimes I wish, the present could.)

Honestly, I don't think I've ever attended a college or pro game before, with zero intention of entering the stadium or arena. 

I've never been to a game just to tailgate.

Or a funeral.  Or a wedding.  Or a wake.  Or a Short Friday at the Office Charity Fundraiser.  Or a ... yeah, you get the point.

I've never been to anything in life, just to tailgate.

But I know people who have, and do. 

So let me assure you, Chiefs: this is going to go over about as well as asking me to give the Homily.

And for the record, Chiefs?  The last time I stepped foot in a church for something other than a wedding, a funeral, or a baptism / christening, was Easter Sunday 2010 **** .

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(****: I believe this is correct.  I know I have not gone on Easter since that year, because I high tailed it out of Mass' ending for a television to watch Phil's third (and likely final) Masters win.  I haven't been to a Midnight Mass since my grandma died in 2004.  And hell, I barely made it for my nieces' christening seven years ago; I was coming off a night like I've rarely enjoyed **** .  You want me back, Church?  Kick the f*cking pedophiles into the judicial and penal system where they belong.  ALL of them.  Then we'll talk.)

(****: also, yes, I know I can't sing.  (I'm the awful sing-along in that video.)  Deal with it.)

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The Chiefs, as usual, claim this is all about safety and/or security. 

To be fair, that's what they always claim, about any insanely indefensible change in policy they implement.

Making us pull to the front of the lot?  Safety and/or security.

No longer allowed to save spots?  Safety and/or security.

Forcing us through police tape to park?  Safety and/or security. 

(Which actually, sorta, kinda, might not be the bullsh*t lie it appears to be, at first glance, if we're being honest here.)

Setting up barricades to prevent entry into certain areas?  Safety and/or security.

Parking nazis screaming "you are not allowed here!"?  Safety and/or security.

And that is what has me pissed.

Because this has NOTHING to do with safety. 

It might have something to do with security, to be fair. 

But it has NOTHING to do with safety.

Because -- and at the risk of acknowledging the Captain Oats in the room, I guess I'm going there -- because if the Chiefs actually gave a flying f*ck about you and I's safety while in their presence, call me crazy here (and I've been called worse) ... wouldn't they actually employ parking attendants, as you enter and exit their fine facility?

Seriously, you Season Ticket Members reading this (and I know at least three of you who do)?

(Stevo deep sigh voice ...)

When is the last time on the west side of Arrowhead you saw parking attendants and/or police officials, while exiting the stadium? 

Let alone entering it?

And more to the point: if safety of us mattered that much to the Chiefs?

Where are the ...

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My group tailgates on the grassy knoll to the north of G30, and our tailgating bus is in line at Gate 6 by 6:30 at the latest for a noon kickoff, 8:30 at the latest for a 3:30 kickoff, and 11:30 for a prime time contest. 

We take this sh*t seriously, to put it mildly.

I cannot tell you the last time any of us encountered a (late, great rcw voice) parking nazi, either on the ride in, or especially on the ride out.  I head down twenty minutes before the posted gate opening to reserve our spots on that grass.  The last time I encountered a parking attendant was in 2015 (which, coincidence or not, is the last time the Chiefs intentionally decided to break what isn't broken.)

Ever since that Rubicon moment, the Chiefs have (to their credit) basically let sh*t happen as we want it to, at least in Lot G.  You can park wherever you want within the lot (provided you have the proper pass) without fear of Good Times Towing making your times less than, uuh, good.  They don't bother you about reserving spots.  They don't force you forward anymore. 

At least in Lot G, they've turned things over to the natives, and I believe us natives have responded well. 

So Chiefs?  If security mattered to you?  Why the hell are we policing ourselves at this point?  When is the last time -- and you STM's reading this that I know, generally tailgate with me, so we're talking Lot G here -- when is the last time we saw one of KCMO or Jackson County's finest during tailgating or after the game?

Chiefs?  If fan safety mattered to you?  Why do you force all vehicles to exit on the west side of the stadium now (and have for at least two years)?  All you do is create a massive traffic jam, p*ssed off fans, and set the stage for either a violent confrontation between p*ssed off fans, or a god awful wreck that could cost lives.  And for what?  To save a few bucks on renting cops to direct traffic onto the Cutoff or Raytown Road?  That's insane!  You cannot claim that you care about safety and security when even a drunken stoned moron like me can prove through YOUR actions that you don't give a sh*t about safety and/or security!  Because you'd hire more cops!  You'd bring back parking nazis!  You'd allow all seven gates to handle the outflow of traffic (like the inflow), rather than just Gates 5, 6, and 7!  You'd ...

Well sh*t, at this point, if anyone buys this crap that the Chiefs care about security and/or safety, I've got some ocean front property in Arizona to sell ya.

And yes -- I will throw the Golden Gate in free.

Because Chiefs?  If security mattered to you?

Where are the ...

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In the interest of full disclosure, I am a member of one of the 2018 Chiefs Fan Focus Groups.  (And in the interest of full disclosure, I credit the Chiefs for engaging with us, their fanbase, on a monthly basis -- and allowing the free flow of conversation to occur, without fear of reprisal and/or retribution, for said free flow, of conversation, uuh, occurring.)

I didn't post this to trash the Chiefs.  Again -- the changes announced today, don't affect me in any way, shape or form, that I can think of.

And frankly, I can understand why -- if safety and/or security actually mattered to the Chiefs -- why they'd enact this new rule. 

But the thing is, safety, and/or security?  Don't matter to them.

If those things did? 

Then where are the ...

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At a bare minimum, if safety and/or security mattered to the Chiefs?  You'd have seven gates open to exit from, rather than three.  You'd have KCMO and/or JaCo's finest inside the gates ... rather than outside on Stadium Drive.  (Note: can't speak as to what may be there on Blue Ridge Cutoff.)

You'd have visible parking attendants ... versus the non-existent ones that currently, uuh, don't exist.  (At least on the west side of the stadium; again, I tailgate in Lot G, north of the G30 sign.  Perhaps on the Blue Ridge Cutoff side, those attendants exist.  They don't on the side I tailgate on.) 

Or hell -- as my tailgating bus' back up driver, I'll go there.

If fan safety and/or security actually mattered to the Chiefs?

Then where are the ...

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DUI checkpoints exiting Arrowhead?

Every gate would be a DUI checkpoint, exiting the stadium, if safety and/or security was priority one, and we all know it. 

Because if safety and/or security mattered to the Chiefs, wouldn't they want to ensure each and every single vehicle exiting their domicile, had a sober driver behind the wheel?  I would think a drunken fan taking out four vehicles trying to get out of the two left turn lanes onto 350 South on 435 ***** would be a far bigger liability risk ... than a couple fans that want to enjoy the hell out of their team at a minimal cost by watching the game in the parking lot, would present.

I defy the Chiefs organization to tell me I'm wrong, about that.

Because I'm not.

Safety and/or Security, Chiefs?  If that's what you truly care about?

Install DUI checkpoints out every gate, every lane, on the way out.  And please, spare me the "it'll slow down the exit of our fans".  You force every one of us to leave west, even if you arrived south (via Gate 4 or 5) or east (Gate 2 and 3) or taxi-like service (Gate 1 or 3).

If safety and/or security is your top priority?  Then DUI checkpoints exiting the stadium.  Get the "bad apples" off the road, before eating an apple may become impossible for said bad apples' victim.

I defy you to tell me, where I'm wrong.

#argumentlost

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(*****: never been there, never done that ... but seen way too damn many people, who have.)

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One final note: I have reached out to this site's "Voice of Reason" (and, again, full disclosure: he's one of my Mount Rushmore of Friends), for his opinions on how the Chiefs value "safety and/or security".  Considering he's been run over walking the crosswalk in Lot G by an off-duty cop on the Chiefs watch, I really, really, really hope he responds with a, uuh, response, to post. 

I really, really, really hope, he response, with a response to post.

Until next time, hey!  (sgt. esterhaus voice) Let's be careful out there ...

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

this site's second decade: number eleven ...

"So this is where you fell?
And I am left to sell?
The path to heaven runs
Through miles of clouded hell

Right up to the top?
Don't look back.
Turning to rags, and giving
The commodities a rain check.

I don't ever want to let you down!
I don't ever want to leave this town!
'Cause after all --
This city never sleeps at night!

It's time to begin, isn't it?
I get a little bit bigger
But then?  I'll admit
I'm just the same as I was.

Now don't you understand?
That I'm never changing who I am!

It's time to begin, isn't it?
I get a little bit bigger
But then?  I'll admit
I'm just the same as I was.

Now don't you understand?
That I'm never changing who I am! ..."

-- "It's Time" by Imagine Dragons.

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"The Decade That Was", in Thirteen Parts:

Intro.  (Set to Brantley Gilbert.)

13. Nebraskapalooza.  (Set to Diana Ross and The Supremes.)

12. Sometimes, You Gotta Break Update "The Rules".  (Set to Our Lady Peace.)

11. How What Appears On First Glance to Be the Worst Year Of the Decade?  Was Actually the Best ... In Hindsight. (Set to Imagine Dragons.)

10. We're Playing BuKCsketball!  We're Playing BuKCsketball! (Set to Jason Mraz.)

9. My "Online Idols".  (Set to Bon Jovi.)

8. The Week That Set the Decade In Motion ... In Hindsight.  (Set to my favorite song from "Motown, The Musical".)

7. The Chiefs Moments I Cherish.  (Set to The Weeknd.)

6. The Most Important Thing In This Life.  (Set to Eric Church.)

5. The Concerts That Still Impact Me.  (Set to Matt Nathanson.)

4. The Thirteen Things I Wish Still "Existed".  (Set to Foo Fighters.)

3. So ... Let's Define Stevo.  (Set to Gavin DeGraw.)

2. The Sole and Only Reason(s), This Site Exists.  (Set to "My Favorite Song of All Time".)

1. My Closing Comments On "The Decade That Was" ... and "The Decade To Be".  (Set to Gary Allan.)

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11. How What Appears On First Glance To Be The Worst Year Of The Decade?  Was Actually The Best ... In Hindsight.

If you had told me five years ago, that the year I'd be the most thankful for out of these last ten, would be 2013, I'd have laughed myself into a coma, at the utter ridiculousness of that idea.

I remember reaching the end of 2013 and being completely confident that no year in my life would ever be worse, and only 2004 might approach it on the Awful-O-Meter.

And yet, and man is hindsight a wonderful thing ... today?  I would actually rank 2013 as, at worst, the third best year of my entire life, five years after 2013's ending.  (1998 is definitely the best; it's a coin flip for me between 2003 and 2013, for the second best.)

And I suppose, that is why "It's Time", which for those of you who have been living in a cave for the last five, six years, is Imagine Dragons' first major hit, coming to you late spring 2012 and hanging in the charts well into early 2013 ... I suppose that's why this song just so royally hits me.

Life and its components can throw at me whatever the f*ck it wants to.  2013 certainly threw about every awful thing you can think of being flung in my direction.

And here I am, still standing.

Or, to put it in a completely inaccurate manner?

"Now don't you understand?
I'm never changing who I am! ^ "

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(^: hey, I've never used one of these ^ thingies before for a subpoint!  Anyway, you have to read to the finish, to get the ^.)

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For all intents and purposes, you can divide my life into five categories that drive the definition of it:

1. Family
2. Friends (especially the ones I consider to be family).
3. Work
4. Chiefs Football
5. Everything Else *

And in 2013?  All of those categories were rocked to their foundation.

Which is the damned best thing, that could have ever happened.

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(*: for those of you who don't know me, I am not a religious person.  I have my faith.  I am not religious.  And yes, there is a significant difference, between those two things -- faith and religion.  Remember, Saint Paul didn't say "now exists three things: religion, hope, and love".  He said faith, for a reason.  And a damned good one, at that.)

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When it came to Chiefs Football, I mean, sweet merciful Lord Jesus, how does it get worse than it was, entering 2013?

How could it sink any lower than the first weekend of December 2012?

Well, to me, it did, via a 3-38 historic rout at those people, to end the season, and end the worst season of the sport any fan could possibly endure.

And then ... the house cleaning began.

And since said house cleaning?  It has been virtually all positive -- then and now.  In the interest of full disclosure, I wasn't the biggest fan of the "Fat" Andy Reid hire; I lay out my reasons why in this post.  And in the interest of full disclosure, I doubt that anyone other than "Fat" Andy loved the trade for "Sir" Alex Smith more than I did; I lay out my reasons why in this post.

We had a magical five year run with these two manning the franchise for all intents and purposes ** .  Five winning seasons.  Four playoff berths.  Two division championships.  And the first playoff win in eight thousand twenty some odd damned days.

I'm going to save more of a look back at the Chiefs these past ten years, for Number Seven in this series.  (So ... two months from now?  (rimshot!))

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(**: in case you doubt me, there are only two stretches in Chiefs history, where they have posted at least five consecutive winning seasons, with at least four playoff berths in there: 1989-1997 (nine straight winning seasons, seven playoff berths, three division titles) ... and 2013-2017 (five straight winning seasons, four playoff berths, two division titles).  In fifty five years, we've had exactly two sustained periods of success.  That ... that is, to haul out a voice I haven't hauled out in a while ... (stevo in college voice) that's no bueno.)

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When it came to work?  Holy hell.

The year started with our accounting department of three down to two, as Carol battled cancer.  Somehow, Belk and I got everything done on time.  Lots of Saturdays, lots of shady approvals, lots of questionable decisions ... but we got that blue book done, dammit!

And after six months of crap, came May 15th, Carol's first day back.

And then came May 16th ... when come 11am, I was the last person standing in the accounting department at "former employer", effective July 15th.

(Yes -- "former employer" waited until she'd worked her first full day back after beating stage three cervical cancer, to drop the layoffs.  #ethicsmyass)

Those next two months sucked.  There's few things in life more demeaning and degrading than having to explain to your replacement what it is that you do, and how it is that you do it.

(Trust me -- what Steve and Carol went through five years ago, I went through last March and April ... and my job was apparently so complex and undoable for two people to handle -- let alone the one that was me, that did it all for four years -- that my "separation date" was extended three times last year.  First from April 14 to April 28, then to May 15, and then finally to May 31.)

And yeah, once Steve and Carol left, it sucked.  I kind of, sort of, detailed my feelings on it in this post.

And in that post, in those two layoffs, my life suddenly and (at least as of now) permanently, shifted for the far better.

Being put in the position I was, didn't make any sense to me.  I'm not what you would define as a "leader".  I prefer to be the dude in the background.  ("golden girls" theme song voice) And if you threw a party?  I'd be the dude sitting on the couch, watching whatever you had on the TV.  Suddenly I had to step up and take command of things.  The layoffs forced me outside of my comfort zone, and it's made me not only a better employee ... but I'd argue a better person.

When you have nobody else to blame your issues on but yourself?

Then you start fixing yourself.

And God above knows, nobody needed needs more fixin', than this guy.

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Friends.

Yikes.

2013 saw "The Family" not only completely implode for all intents and purposes (of all nights, on Easter Sunday -- and again, remind me who it is, that doesn't believe in coincidence) ... but also saw the last time the four of us were in the same room together, as of today.

It was at "The Ex"'s reception, the day before the Texans game that October.

(It's in there ... closer to the top than the bottom, for once.)

I've been in the presence of each of them since that day -- incredibly enough, on multiple occasions in each case -- but the four of us have never been together in one spot again, since that day *** .

And probably never will.

Five years ago, that enraged me.

Today?  I don't feel rage.

I feel relief.

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(***: the funniest moment from Chiefs 2017 was running into the artists formerly known as "The Champ" and "The Chica" in the security line, entering the Redskins game.  Let's just say, Section 132 was in tears from laughing so hard, at "The Chica"'s reaction to seeing me behind her ... and "The Champ"'s reaction as well.  This is a story best told in person, to be honest.  It's that damned hilarious.)

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Between the sports team I irrationally love being in (stewie griffin voice) roo-eens, the person that for a decade was my best friend, and his wife, and my ex, the four of us not speaking to each other, other than to scream obscenities and suggestions to do to each other what is anatomically impossible, and a job situation that was driving me to drink at levels that frightened me, I did what any semi-sane, somewhat rational dude who has little to no faith in a higher power would do.

I tried to get the f*ck out of here.

A reinsurance company in north Dallas reached out to me in March of 2013, asking me to interview for an accounting position.  The interview should have been a slam dunk.  They reached out to me.  I knew both people I'd be meeting with.  And the appeal of the (on the horizon) offer's location is obvious to anyone who knows me.  I've been trying to get back to Texas ever since I left it nearly twenty years ago after college.

The interview was on Friday, March 29, 2013.

It is the only interview in my life, I have ever left with little to no doubt, that I wasn't getting the job **** .

To say I was p*ssed, is a grouse understatement.  But again -- when you only have yourself to blame, then you have to take a look in the mirror, and begin to fix the man looking back at you, in it.

Only ... I didn't.

I just continued to b*tch, moan, complain, drink, cope, stress ...

Until the last component of life that matters to me, hit the f*cking iceberg.

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(****: this is actually a true story.  I interviewed once for my first job (age fifteen, McDonalds); I worked there all the way through high school, and a couple summers in college.  I interviewed once for my second job (college years, at the library); I started that same afternoon.  I had two interviews for a job exiting college; I had offers from both companies.  I had one interview for Transamerica; it may have taken a few months, but I was hired.  I had one interview at "most recent former employer"; I had an offer before I even got home, on the answering machine.  And I wasn't even ready to look for a job last summer at this time when "current employer" came calling.  I was asked to take a drug test the day after interviewing, and started the day after Labor Day last year.  Even the one job that wrecked me for a while -- between the first one out of college, and TA -- I interviewed and was hired, on the same day.  The lesson?  I never botch interviews.  I completely imploded with the one, with Scor five years ago.  For those of you who believe in coincidence?  Keep reading.  I'll change your mind.)

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The first weekend of October 2013, started off ... well, in hindsight, perfectly.  It began with a trip to a restaurant I despise, coupled with a lady plowing into the back of Mr. Reason's car, on the way back to the office after lunch.

It also saw the passing of one of our favorite relatives on my dad's side of the family, Skip.  Diagnosed with cancer, gone not even a week later.  My dad and I were planning to head up to Chicago for the funeral that next week.

Instead, not even twenty four hours after Skip passed, I had to inform Chicago that not only were we not coming, but they'd better prep to send a few folks this way later that week.

Because on Sunday, October 6, my dad technically died twice in a hour.

He did die once -- for about twelve minutes.  He was in Hen House grabbing some stuff for lunch, prepping to head to Rimann for some beer, to have for the Chiefs game in Nashville at noon that day.

He collapsed in the chip aisle.  Thankfully, a lady there knew CPR, and kept giving it until the paramedics arrived, and revived him after those twelve minutes.  He then was off for Shawnee Mission.

A little after noon, the Chiefs recovered a muffed punt for a touchdown, to open the scoring that day.  My phone rang almost immediately after the extra point.  I saw it was dad's number, and figured he was calling to celebrate.

Instead, it was the paramedic dialing the last number dad had called, to get in touch with someone in the family.  I will never forget his words as long as I live: "get your ass to Shawnee Mission as fast as you f*cking can, and I will meet you at the ER door!"

(Note: the paramedic was a friend of my brother's growing up, and I worked with his dad at "most recent former employer".  He knew who I was, and who dad was.  Still, when a paramedic is dropping f-bombs to get you to move, you tend to pay attention.)

That next week sucked.  Dad had to go through a procedure where they chill your body to 89 degrees for 24 straight hours.  You're basically dead -- again -- because his brain had been without oxygen for so long, the fear that the brain was gone was in play.  Thankfully, dad pulled through OK, and he's not only still with us five years later, but if anything he's in better health than he was five years ago.

But damn.  I wouldn't wish that week -- or most of my 2013 -- on even my worst enemy.

Except ...

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Five years later?  Everything I viewed as the latest in a long line of catastrophes in my life, has proven to be the exact opposite.  The Chiefs are not only respectable, but they're about to enter arguably the most anticipated two to three year run in franchise history.  I work now for a company that seems to respect its' employees, and values a healthy work / family balance (unlike "most recent former employer", which didn't seem to comprehend its' employees do things other than work and sleep).  In the irony of ironies, the implosion of "The Family" only strengthened my relationships and friendships with so many other people, because it finally allowed the truth about Stubbs and its' aftermath to come out ***** .

And most importantly, dealing with the fallout from dad?

Fixed the single most broken beyond repair relationship in my life.

My relationship ... with my mom.

--------------------

(*****: there's hints of the truth in there, if you look for them.  Oh, and also, despite it all?  I still feel the same way, nearly a decade later, as I did that night, to open May 2009.)

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My mom and I basically tolerated each other in limited doses for about twelve, thirteen years, entering that first Sunday of October 2013.  From that Sunday when dad died twice, through that following Saturday (it's in there, in the Chiefs prediction portion of this post), my mom and I were with each other non-stop.  Literally, non-stop, for six straight days.  It forced us to deal with our problems head on ... because it's that, or deal with the well-intentioned visitors that were for the most part clueless, about what was going on.

It forced me to admit that she means well, and that faith does matter in this life ****** , not just the next one.  It forced her to admit that sometimes, your kid does some f*cked up things because he's 25 and is a dumb ass ... but that one or nineteen dumb f*ck mistakes doesn't mean you failed as a parent; it means your kid is still trying to evolve into something he just isn't yet.

It forced us both to admit, that we're far, far better together, than we were apart.

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(******: scroll to the last couple sections, it's in there.  Also, "The Annual Column" used to be my favorite post of the year.  That one linked above, is the last one I've written.  Yeah, 2013 was not fun in the moment, to put it mildly.  Also, I'd forgotten "New Major".  God bless it, that week ... to quote carl peterson: "(that week) is all class.  Except without the c, and without the l.)

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And that's why, in hindsight, 2013 is the year that was the best of this decade.

Did I lose a lot in 2013?  Well sure.

But sometimes -- and as sports fans, we all have to admit this is true.

Sometimes?  You gotta implode the old run-down facility, and replace it with something better.

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"The Family" didn't survive 2013.  That's ok.  Sometimes, you're better off without the negative influences in your life.  And certainly one can make a very credible argument, former best friend or not, that I've never had a worse influence in my life, than Dusty ******* .

The Chiefs were in ruins entering 2013, with literal dead bodies to show for the previous campaign.  And yet, not even ten months later, I cared so little about the catastrophe 2012 was, that I penned what is to this day my favorite post I've ever written.  (And I still stand behind every word in it ... up to the prediction part, of course.  (The Chiefs lost 17-27 that night.))

It saw my life as it was, try to drive me five hundred miles away, back to where I thought I would be happier, or at least less stressed, less anxious, less pressured.

Now?  I've never been happier to fail at something in my life, in hindsight, than I am in knowing that I completely botched that interview.

Because six months later, dad fell dead for a few days, and thankfully recovered ... but if I'm in Dallas, the reunion with my mom doesn't happen.  One can debate if mom and I would have ever reconciled to where we are today without dad's health issues (I think we would have at some point, because inevitably he would have had a health crisis that did the same thing at a later date) ... but noone can deny that if I'm in Dallas?  We don't have that week together.

A week that at the time, I'd have sold for a rotted apple ... and now, wouldn't sell for anything, up to and including my soul.

--------------------

(*******: this is an abject lie; James is the worst influence I've ever had in my life.  And I've rarely if ever cried harder, over losing someone in this life, than I did over losing him, fourteen years ago come Monday (August 20th).)

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I suppose I close with this.

I can joke that my dad is my hero in life ... and honestly that's not a joke.  He is.

And I can joke that there is noone in life I respect more than my brother ... and honestly that's not a joke.  It's the truth.

But I can say without the slightest hint of irony, sarcasm, or humor, that there is noone in life I love more, than my mom.

It took a year as awful as 2013, to realize that.

And that's why 2013 means so damned much to me.  Sometimes?  You have to lose everything you think matters most to you, and sometimes, you have to see destroyed the things you value the most?

To realize just how wrong, how so f*cking wrong, your priorities were.

And realize that what truly matters most?

Was there in front of you, all along.

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(^: hey!  It's that ^ thingie Mabel!  He did come back to it!  (Pause).  (reader voice) Sh*t, that means I lost the bet!  Sonofa ...

In case you haven't figured it out?  The theme?  Is the key to the post ... because it's arguably the most indefensibly wrong song lyrics wise, I love.  Don't listen to Dan Reynolds and the boys, readers.  Never stop evolving.  Never become so static, that who you were five years ago, defines who you are today.  That what you believed five years ago, is an unquestioned tenet of your faith today.  It's totally cool to be who you are; God knows you'll rarely meet someone more, uuh, "special", than me.  But I'm not who I was in 2013, or in 2008 when this site began.  And I hope you aren't either.)  

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Up next is Number Ten: "We're Playin' BuKCstetball!".  This is ... this is the Mystery Seven (going to back The 100,000 Pyramid, I suppose) of this series of posts.  If you think about it, you'll get the "category", and guess the "answers".  But you really have to think about it, because there's no obvious answer, on first glance ...

Thursday, August 2, 2018

this site's second decade: number twelve ...

"How many times have you been pushed around?
Was anybody there?
Does anybody care?

How many times have your friends let you down?
Was anybody there?
Did anybody stare?

How many times have your friends let you down?
Just open up your heart;
Just open up your mind.

How many times has your faith slipped away?
Well is anybody safe?
Does anybody pray?

Oh life?  Is waiting for you!
It's all messed up -- but we're alive!
Oh life?  Is waiting for you!
It's all messed up -- but we'll survive!

How many days have you just slept away?
Is everybody high?
Is everyone afraid?

How many times have you wished you were strong?
Have they ever seen your heart?
Have they ever seen your pain?

Oh life?  Is waiting for you!
It's all messed up -- but we're alive!
Oh life?  Is waiting for you!
It's all messed up -- but we'll survive! ..."

-- "Life" by Our Lady Peace.  (Pause).  No, it's definitely not the song by that awesome band most of you reading this, were expecting out of me, as the theme ...

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"The Decade That Was", In Thirteen Parts:

Intro.  (Set to Brantley Gilbert.)


12. Sometimes, You Gotta Break Update "The Rules".  (Set to Our Lady Peace.)

11. How What Appears On First Glance to Be the Worst Year Of the Decade?  Was Actually the Best ... In Hindsight. (Set to Imagine Dragons.)

10. We're Playing BuKCsketball!  We're Playing BuKCsketball! (Set to Jason Mraz.)

9. My "Online Idols".  (Set to Bon Jovi.)

8. The Week That Set the Decade In Motion ... In Hindsight.  (Set to my favorite song from "Motown, The Musical".)

7. The Chiefs Moments I Cherish.  (Set to The Weeknd.)

6. The Most Important Thing In This Life.  (Set to Eric Church.)

5. The Concerts That Still Impact Me.  (Set to Matt Nathanson.)

4. The Thirteen Things I Wish Still "Existed".  (Set to Foo Fighters.)

3. So ... Let's Define Stevo.  (Set to Gavin DeGraw.)

2. The Sole and Only Reason(s), This Site Exists.  (Set to "My Favorite Song of All Time".)

1. My Closing Comments On "The Decade That Was" ... and "The Decade To Be".  (Set to Gary Allan.)

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12. Sometimes, You Gotta Break Update the Rules.

Most, if not all of us, know someone who lives their life by a set of pre-determined rules.  They're the predictable people in life.  You know exactly how they will handle each and every situation they may face.

And if you are one of those people?  Wonderful.

Because I'm not.

Eight years ago, I posted the list of Stevo Rules -- the alleged values I try to live my life by.  (It's the link three paragraphs above.) 

Most of them make complete and perfect sense.  Some of them are outright hysterical.  Some of them have proven to be so f*cking true over the last decade that I wish I'd never thought them, let alone recorded them.

But here's the thing.  I can't live my life by forty, fifty plus rules.  In the words of a theme still to appear in this series of thirteen posts:

"I don't wanna be anything?  Other than me!"

And so, I decided to pare the original list, down to the "True Thirteen".  Because these are the thirteen I truly believe to be, uuh, true.  Some are carry-overs from the initial list; some have been added in the last eight years.

So, noting up front I'll probably offer some kind of explanation for each of them?

Here we go.

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13. The Best Section in Arrowhead?  Is Section 132.

For the last few years, that was an abject lie, as I sat in Section 339.  And I loved my time up there.  Especially the view.  No, really -- you can see a play unfold a helluva lot better in 339, 5, 1 ... than you can in 132, 26, "insert seat here".

But sometimes? 

You gotta come home. 

Which is what I decided to do this season. 

I grabbed up my old seat (now 132, 26, 14; used to be 132, 26, 2 (brantley gilbert voice) "back in the day" * ) officially, and, uuh, I guess I apologize in advance for those of you who will hold the high honor and privilege of having to sit by me during this upcoming season.


(so damned ready!  image credit: me, via my iPhone 8 something.)

Having noted that ...

I'd like to think that I have really mellowed out from how I was twenty years ago.

Sh*t, sixteen years ago, when the Chiefs lost at Arrowhead in Week Seven to those people in overtime (a defeat that ultimately cost us the playoffs), I literally got home, grabbed a handle of vodka, locked myself in my bedroom, and called in sick for the next three days.  (Pause).  Also, I did nearly the same thing three later, after we blew a seventeen point lead barely sixteen minutes in, against the defending NFC Champion Eagles.  That time (it was a 3:30 kickoff, versus noon the prior occasion), I grabbed a cigar and a handle, headed out onto the back deck, and passed out at some point in my recliner, before (you guessed it) calling in sick a few more days in a row.

I know think hope pray I'm better than that now.

Having said that ... apparently my handling of the playoff defeat earlier this year to the Titans was to run an open tab at "Everyone's Favorite Lounge", while chugging so many shots that I (allegedly) had to be carried out of The Double, and was (allegedly) dropped into bed completely passed out, only to be (loony leftist voice) "woke up" fourteen hours later by Nicole telling me bye for now, as she headed home to Sioux Falls the next morning.

The lesson?  Damned if I know.

(*: yeah, this needs to be updated -- Mr. Gilbert's put out a solid twenty plus tracks since that post, that need to be properly rated and/or ranked.  I'll add it to the "do this at some point before you (allison krause / brad paisley voice) "sing a whiskey lullaby"" pile.  (Pause).  And yes, it still p*sses the hell out of me that danny sorenson "stars" in this video.)

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12. If You Can't Laugh At Yourself?  Brace For Everyone Else Laughing at You.

Nobody makes more fun of me, than me.  (Pause).  I think.

("the voice of reason" / "bts" / "jasson" voices) You might wanna rethink that, Stevo!

Which is the beauty of life, my friends.  We can openly mock each other at (pick a tailgate or happy hour here), and laugh out loud at the absurdity this awesome, epic gift of God known as "life" is.  We can pick a moment or two from damned near anything growing up, into uuh, alleged grown ups, and immediately bring the house down.

I mean, sh*t, the most I've laughed at any tailgate the last five years?  Is probably when the chicks were betting on whether I am gay or straight.  (About printed page four of the link.) 

I thought it was hilarious.  Sh*t, I put it in the top ten favorite moments of the season for me, I thought it was that funny.  (It's Number Seven.)

Partially because I'm comfortable enough with who I am (I'm straight ... but I can see why that's in question sometimes ... *cough biggest Lionel Richie fan ever cough* ... ), but mostly because it's funny to me.

And when I get to Number Two (at least, I think it's Number Two) in this series?  It'll make perfect sense. 

Because the single biggest thing I love about my closest friends and family in life?

Is that they never change, no matter who is standing in front of them.  Y'all are genuine.  Y'all are authentic.  Y'all are real.  Y'all are exactly who God made you to be, and I love that y'all make zero, zip, nada apologies for it.

(Then again, y'all are also slightly insane, and possibly mentally challenged.  (Pause).  Oh.  Wait.  That's me.  Never mind.)

Doubt me on those statements? 

Here's my favorite picture of all time, that I'm a part of:


(l to r: me, "jasson", me, "the voice of reason", "the voice of reason's" mom ... who, in the interest of full disclosure, is not my biggest fan.  (Note: I earned that status, thank you very much!  (Pause).  Oh, wait, I probably shouldn't "!" that one.)  image credit (probably): "the voice of reason's" sister.)

Why I love this picture?  Should be obvious.  It's the three of us -- the "Three Amigos" so to speak -- before girlfriends and wives and kids and deaths and jobs and mortgages and leases and ... and who knows what else, entered the picture. 

(This pic was snapped Week Three 2000, walking to get programs and pins before the Chargers game that year.)

But look at the picture a little deeper. 

(Apologies for the wine spill in the top right corner ... again, it's my old school copy of the picture I scanned in.)

"Jasson", in the center?  Is clearly laughing his head off!  I'm at least rolling with it on his left ... and I'm guessing, I'm about to smack my hands together while laughing, based on the pose.  (Hey, I know what my hands do in various poses ... shaddup!)

And "The Voice of Reason", on his right?  Is clearly shaking his head with a "you have to be sh*tting me!" look of either humor or disgust on his (invisible) face ... and his mom is clearly dropping farther and farther back, as this walk progresses between three friends still solid enough to this day, that my second mom notes this about us (note: gotta read and scroll a bit, to get to the point) ... and (like me) is f*cking proud of it.

Because that picture above?

Is what life is about, folks.

It's about the ones you love, being able to simply enjoy each other together -- the f*ck ups, failure, triumphs, and "you had to be there" moments.

How sad it is, that too many people, don't get why God put us here.

Because no triumph was ever achieved?

Without at least one abject f*cking failure.

(Or in my case?  Insert at least three trillion zeros, behind that one, in the f*ck up and failure column.)

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11a. You Never Know Who Your True Friends Are, Until They Have No Financially Motivated Reason To Be Around You.

And ...

11b. If You Ever Ask Yourself What Matters More, The Friend Or The Money?  The Answer Is ALWAYS The Money.

These seem self explanatory.  And for the record, there's only two people I've ever had to employ 11b about.  Both were my roommates at Stubbs over the last couple years of the 2000s.

I was completely wrong about one of those two.

And it was not the one, 11b ** , was written to describe.

(**: if you had told me ten years ago I'd have had more happy hours in the last five years (two) with "Deadbeat Ex-Roommate", than I'd have had with the person who asked me to be his best man (zero)?  I'd have laughed my ass off for ten minutes.  Somehow, this comment now seems sane and rational today.)

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10. You Can Have Freedom, Or You Can Have Security.  You Cannot Have Both.

Both major political parties have lost site of this ... although both seek to curtail freedom, on opposite ends of the spectrum.

The left seeks to control every aspect of your public life.  The right seeks to control every aspect of your personal life.

They're both 100% wrong.

At this point, I have more faith in Mr. Trump, than I do in the Democrat leadership, to remember that freedom trumps security every godd*mned moment of life.

And I say this as someone, who still to this day, would not vote to elect that man, if you put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger.

(Which don't misread that.  I think Mr. Trump has been a rock solid President so far.  He's been far, far better than I imagined he would be ... if only because he is exposing the utter hypocrisy of liberalism on a daily basis.  Keep that part up dude, and I might opt to consider your candidacy over Senator Booker or former Vice President Biden, come 2020.

Also -- I'm the one person you'll read, as pro-Hillary as it gets?

Who NAILED Donald J. Trump "House of Wings"'s victory ... not only four months in advance, but forty eight hours in advance.)

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9. Organized Religion Is The Cause Of 95% Of The World's Problems.  It Is The Solution To None Of Them.

I stand behind that statement, eight years later ... and will until I die.

Because I have faith in things, others don't.  (The God of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam.  Read your Bible people -- He's One and The Same.)

And I have hope in things, that others don't.  (I believe mankind's best day, is yet to come.)

But to feel love?

There's a reason why Saint Paul wrote I Corinthians 13.

Because there does abide three things -- faith, hope, and love.  Those three.

But the greatest of these?

Is love.

Trust that who God made you to be?

Is who He made you to be!

And if your "church" denies you that belief?

Then come to the realization I did (gulp) two decades ago.

That "The Church" is the ultimate hypocrisy.

Because God has never once enacted His agenda?

Through a church.

He's almost always enacted it?

Through the most doubting among us.

Gee -- I wonder why.

#commonsense #hypocrisy

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8. Any Day That Is Hot Enough, That The Thought Of Putting On A T-Shirt Seems Like The Most Retarded Idea in Recorded Human History, Is a Perfect Stevo Day.

What can I say, the Texan in me always wins in the end.

That ... and it would be a grouse understatement that is crinimite in nature, to note that I am loving Summer 2018 so far.  Is there any way we can make this last through the end of October, like it usually does in North Texas?  Because 90ish and sunny every day is about as perfect as it gets.

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7. There Is No Event In Life, That Cannot Be Tailgated.

In the last ten some odd years, in addition to the concerts, sporting events, and random "makes total sense" tailgates I've been a part of, I have tailgated a wedding, a funeral, multiple office lunches (sadly, alcohol free), watching people lay down new flooring, and a few little league softball baseball games and little girls soccer games. 

(You're damned right the "security" at Swope Park looks the other way ... as always, I love KCMO proper.  Unless it's Houston or the Metroplex, I never want to live anywhere else, ever. 

(Unless this ever happens.  And Jesus, I hope we beat California to it.)

You people can have your suburbs, where having an open beer in your driveway might get you arrested.  In KCMO?  We Have Real Crime!!!!!)

6am, Sunday September 23rd, 2018, cannot get here soon enough ...

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6. If Terrorists Strike the Stadium Where The oakland raiders And "those people" Are Playing, It Is Not A National Tragedy.  It Is Cause For A National Celebration.

Honestly, this one should have been number one.

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5. Realizing You Support A Losing Cause, Does Not Make You A Loser.  It Makes You A True Believer.

Considering I have voted to elect POTUS accurately twice in my life -- and one of those two, is the only vote I've ever cast for anything, that I wish to God I could do-over *** , I have to cling to this one.

To say nothing of being a fan of (here we go ...) Bucks basketball (hasn't won a postseason series since 2001!), KU football (yes, I really did have season tickets -- for multiple seasons -- once upon a time!), Stars hockey (one playoff berth this decade!), Chiefs football (hasn't won a home playoff game since I was 16 ... and I'll be 42 on Wild Card Weekend this year!), Royals baseball (two playoff berths in 32 years!), Rickie Fowler (he'll never win a major!), Kasey Kahne (can't get credible sponsorship or a credible team!), Sebastien Bourdais (having a sneaky good season for once!), Coors Light (the cheap domestic no credible sporting event sells!) ...

Yeah, I think you get the picture.

(***: in order, I've voted for Clinton, Gore, Bush, McCain, Romney, Clinton.  The only one I hate and regret, is Bush.  Not because I truly wanted Kerry ... but because Bush's second term was such a f*cking catastrophe, it made Barry unbeatable in 2008.)

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4a. My Drinking Team Has a Football Problem!

4b. You Can't Drink All Day Unless You Start In The Morning!

4c. I'm Not Drunk; I Was Overserved!

4d. I'm Making America Great Again One Drink At a Time!

Those are our last four tailgating group t-shirt slogans, for Chiefs football, in order from 2014 through 2017.

I can't wait to see what we come up with, for 2018.

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3. I Have No Doubt There Is a God.  I Just Question Whether or Not He Actually Gives a Sh*t About Me.

Spare me your preaching.  There isn't a person who has ever drawn breath, that hasn't believed in this rule, at least once in their lives.

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2. Most Of The Time, One Person Really Can't Make a Difference.  Sorry, But It's True.

Even Jesus needed twelve disciples, people.  When the Son of God needs help to make things work?  I guarantee you "House of Wings" can't solve everything on his own.

But mostly -- and if you (and/or I) forget every other rule in this condensed listing?

It's what used to be Rule Thirty Four ... and is now without question -- (allard baird voice) without question! -- Rule One ... that you should always adhere to.

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1. If You Ever Make a Decision, And Find That Everyone's Reaction To That Decision Is "You Have To Be A Level Of Dumb F*ck Retard Or Named Stevo" To Have Made That Decision?  Just Assume You Really F*cked Up.

Say what you want ... this one only gets truer, as the decades roll on.

At least for me.

#gamblingaddictsbestfriend #neverwageronwhatido

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Thirteen and Twelve are done.

Next Up?  Is Eleven ... and this one has potential.

It is my look back at what, in hindsight, wound up being my favorite year of the last ten years ... even if damned near nothing about that year, as it unfolded, made a single bit of sense to me, or a lot of you reading this.

Yup, we're going back five years in time, to a year that saw me and my best friend (at the time) decide to (as of now) never speak to each other again ... a year that saw my dad drop dead twice inside of an hour ... saw not one, not two, but three!, of my four favorite co-workers at "former employer" let go in a six day stretch ... a (technical) year that forced me to endure, the single most painful Chiefs defeat of my life (to say nothing of the trip home, from said defeat)...

But a year that saw the theme to this post, truly take hold:

"Oh life?  Is waiting for you!
It's all messed up!
But we're alive!

Oh life?  Is waiting for you!
It's all messed up!
But we'll survive! ..."

The year known ... as Two Thousand and Thirteen.

week twelve picks

The Statisticals. Last Week SU: 8-6-0. Season to Date SU: 98-62-1. Last Week ATS: 7-7-0. Season to Date ATS: 75-80-6. Last Week Upset / ...