The Arrogance of Massachusetts Democrats

Within the last couple of weeks, I've been told that through my status updates on Facebook, I've insulted the voters of Massachusetts and gloated in the aftermath of the Scott Brown Senate victory. I'm too negative - that if I really want to make my point, calling people "lemmings" is not the way to do it. I should focus on communicating my point of view, rather than kicking people while they are down.

Arighty then. Here goes:

I am registered as unenrolled, but characterize myself as fiscally conservative and socially moderate. Because fiscal issues are the most important to me, I tend to vote Republican. I find the Democrats' "tax and spend" philosophy to be absurd. Now, consider these facts:

• There has not been a Republican U.S. Senator from Massachusetts in 31 years.
• There has not been a Republican in the U.S. House of Representatives from Massachusetts in 14 years. There were two from 1993-1997. Before that, the most recent one was in 1983.
• The Massachusetts legislature has been controlled by the Democrats for more than 40 years (and probably longer...I can't find the exact date online)
  
• While there have been Republican governors in Massachusetts recently, they all faced a legislature where Democrats held a supermajority, meaning little to no chance of advancing their agenda.

Being anything other than Democrat in Massachusetts has meant that your voice has been irrelevant for decades. For myself, it has been this way for the duration of my voting life. For many more, it goes back much longer. When I vote in the Presidential election, I know that from an electoral standpoint, my vote is meaningless. However, I vote to exercise my constitutional right and to honor those that have died to provide democracy.

Pragmatically, I just don't get how/why Massachusetts is so blindly Democratic, especially on the state level. Whether you want to admit it or not, this state is a mess and a national political laughingstock (at least until last week).

One Speaker of the House after another resigns in shame; taxes continue to go up and numerous state agencies demonstrate their incompetence on a daily basis. And yet, Democrats continue to get elected.

Only Louisiana and Illinois rival Massachusetts for the level of corruption by our politicians. And yet, Democrats continue to get elected.

The will of the people through binding referendums (sales tax, tolls,death penalty, etc.) are ignored and dismissed by the state legislature. And yet, Democrats continue to get elected.

This state is broken. There is nobody out there - even Democrats - who will argue otherwise. And yet, Democrats continue to get elected.

And you wonder why I refer to people as lemmings.

But I get it. People vote along party lines. Democrats blindly vote from Democrats. And to be fair, Republicans do the same. But when you are in Massachusetts, voting for Republican is not a mindless activity...it is a vote for change. It is a plea for something different. Another direction.

Because after a while, when one group of people just aren't getting the job done, you usually give the other guys a chance. Except in Massachusetts.

To be sure, this has happened on the national level. And I am completely OK with it. The Republicans deserved their ass-kicking in 2008. People wanted to give the other guys a chance. Hell, even I almost voted for Obama. I didn't, but I thought long and hard about it - not because I believed in his policies - I don't - but because a new voice was needed.

Which takes us back to last week. The prevailing theory is that Martha Coakley's loss wasn't necessarily about her, but about the dissatisfaction with Obama's agenda. I am sure part of that is true. If you ask me, Obama and the Democrats screwed up - they took on too much too soon. The focus in the first year or two should have been on the economy, not advocating for a trillion dollar health care package with no discernible benefits to the average consumer. They needed to prove to the public that they could fix problems, not create them. And so far, they failed.

But let's not forget that after the primaries, Coakley had a 30 point lead over Brown. That lead was still in the double digits by Christmas. And here is where I finally get to make my point. I believe that political arrogance played a large role in Coakley's defeat. Put simply, she and her campaign team took the voters for granted. "Hey, I am a Democrat, Teddy was a democrat, Massachusetts is a blue state...therefore, I have this one in the bag."

So while Brown was out there campaigning nonstop, doing all of the right things, Coakley was in the Caribbean catching some rays. She famously scoffed at the notion of shaking hands outside of Fenway Park on New Year's Day before the Bruins game because it was too cold. Less than two weeks before the election, instead of pressing the flesh, she was in DC meeting with lobbyists. And then, when it was apparent she was in real trouble, the negative ads started. And they kept going. And then Clinton came to town. And then Obama. Where were they in November and December?

I think this arrogance was the tipping point. Voter anger with Washington had been building, but I believe it was this sense of entitlement on behalf of the Democrats that finally moved the needle. After decades and decades of being taken for granted, the voters had enough. The same towns that carried Obama in a landslide were voting for Brown by a rate of 2-to-1.

And when it was over, I was pleased that the people of this state finally grew a pair. By the time I got home on election night, the race had been decided. I was in a good mood. Finally Massachusetts allowed a different voice to be heard. Who knows, maybe there is hope after all...

And then I checked Facebook. Here is a sampling of what I saw:

"Teddy must be rolling over in his grave."
"I am ashamed of my state."
"What is wrong with you people?"

I realized that this arrogance wasn't confined just to Coakley and her team. Nope, many diehard Dems also felt slighted by the outcome. They also believed that it was divine right that Coakley would win. That the Democrats would win.

Forget about change. Disregard the fact that, in just one year, the Dems have squandered 8 years worth of goodwill. Ignore the fact that there simply is no money to pay for what Obama wants to do.

And to these people, I ask: "What will it take?" Your arrogance and sense of entitlement is indeed appalling. I am man enough to admit that the GOP deserved their beating 15 months ago. I am man enough to admit that George Bush made mistake upon mistake. I am man enough to admit that the Republicans completely lost touch with the people.

When will you do the same? Especially in Massachusetts?

I am not calling out every single Democrat. Some sensible ones have acknowledged that Coakley lost because she ran a terrible campaign and Brown ran a very good one. To these folks, of course I agree.

Of course, Republicans are just as capable of screwing up a state as Democrats. Political scandals and corruption are not confined to one party. But, the fact remains that Massachusetts is controlled by the Dems and as such, they need to bear responsibility for the mess our state is in.

Someone marginally smarter than I made a good point when he told me that all politics are local. The Republicans have failed in this state because they haven't made the commitment. Make a name for yourself on the board of selectman or the school committee...and then try and move up. Don't come out of nowhere and expect people to vote for you. This person is right. Maybe last week's election result will give the state GOP party the kick in the pants it needs to start on a grassroots level and grow from there.

But either way, I'm hoping that the voters in this state will lose their sense of entitlement and look around. Instead of simply looking for the D on the ballot, take stock of what is happening on Beacon Hill...and think about giving the other guys a chance.

Tailgating

Tomorrow marks Week 4 of my 16th season as a New England Patriots season ticket holder. By my very rough calculations - using a bean bag, silly putty and an abacus - I have attended approximately 130 or so games.

Being a season ticket holder to an NFL team is a pretty neat experience. Unlike folks who watch the games on TV, season ticket holders have a unique and close relationship with their team. After all, we don't just invest money for tickets, we invest time to attend the games and energy to cheer. For those who tailgate, the time and monetary commitment are even higher. Although I root for all of the Boston teams, the Patriots will always remain my priority because I am not just a fan, I am a participant in the experience. Boston will always be considered a Red Sox town, but I would suspect that many of the 68,000 fans who attend the Pats' games share my perspective.

My dad, who procured the tickets back in 1994 and went to the games until 2000, was not exactly the tailgate type. However, since he retired to The Place Where People Go to Die, Florida (zip code: 25, which is also the average driving speed on the highways), I take every opportunity to tailgate.

Why? Because going to a football game without tailgating is like being a vegetarian. Sure, you could do it, but why on earth would you want to? And if you are a vegetarian who tailgates, then please stop reading this and just go away. And take your tofu burgers. You disgust me.

While there are some obvious benefits to tailgating - such as bonding with pals while drinking beer and eating grilled meat - I have come to appreciate the hidden benefits. For instance, being outside in December for approximately 7.5 hours builds character, stamina and endurance. For the record, I am talking to you, Sox fans, who bitch and moan that it is "only" 55 degrees at the game in late September. Wimps. Try sitting - not moving around or exercising - but just sitting, in temps of 10-20 degrees all day. It does a body good. And keeps the outdoor sports stores in business.

Tailgating makes going to the game an all-day experience. For a 1 p.m. kickoff, I am usually out the door at 8 a.m. and pulling into the lot by 9. Eating and drinking quickly commences - usually about 5,000 calories worth - and lasts until around noon, when we pack up and head to the seats. On an average day, we are back in the car by 4:45 and I pull into my driveway by 6 p.m.

If you think tailgating is expensive, you would be mistaken. A decent beer inside the stadium is $10 (this is not a typo), hot dogs are $6 and popcorn is $5. So, if I had 3 beers, a dog and bag of popcorn, I'd spend $41. Most of my pre-game activities average about $50 or so, which buys a 12-pack of beer, a bunch of snacks, an "entree"," sides and a dessert...for two people.

So there you have it. As a Jew, I can't afford not to tailgate. Think of all the money I'd be wasting.

As much fun as tailgating is, the highlight of the day is always the actual game. To me, the worse the weather gets, the more I enjoy the game. I come across lots of folks who would much rather watch football on TV then in person. That is too bad. Watching at home or in a bar is warmer and more convenient (food, bathroom, etc.), but nothing beats being at the stadium.

Not only do I see many components of the game that don't show up on TV, but the energy of 68,000 lunatics, which can simultaneously boost the Pats and stress their opponent, is contagious. On opening night, when the Pats came back to beat the Bills, I can say with absolute certainty that my experience was twice as intense and emotionally fulfilling as someone who was watching from their couch.

Come 9 a.m. tomorrow, the ritual continues. I'll be sitting in my camping chair with a beer in hand, getting ready to fire up the grill. There will be meat in the cooler, snacks on the table and the smell of smoke wafting throughout the lot. And there will be no place I would rather be.

Except Vegas.

Shaved

I just discovered the most wonderful thing. It is a real computer, but it's small enough to be moved around. And, it doesn't always need to be plugged in or connected to a cable modem. In fact, right now, this computer is actually positioned on my lap. Wow. This is going to revolutionize the way that I waste my time. Now, I can surf the net, play poker, screw up my fantasy football team and hell, even blog, from the comfort of my couch. I'm just glad I am among the first of the early adopters to splurge for this new technology.

In other news, here is the actual transcript from an actual conversation between Jenn and myself a couple of weeks ago:

ME: (poking my head out of the bathroom) Honey, I shaved off my goatee...

HER: (loud stomping of feet running down the hall) WHAT!?!?!??!

ME: How does it look?

HER: Um...shouldn't we have discussed this first?

I wonder what her reaction would have been if she wasn't a caring, compassionate minister?

So, this is me, courtesy of the built-in web cam on my shiny new laptop:










Sexy, isn't it? Jesus....what's with the roll below my chin?

(Honest to God, it's a good thing I am married. The average corpse is better looking than I am.)

When I went into the bathroom that night, I didn't intend to come out of it clean shaven. It's not like I thought to myself, "Self? How can I make myself even uglier? Oh, I know. I'll shave off the goatee."

Nope, it was a spur-of-the-moment type of thing. I've had my goatee since college because even back then, I had a round, chubby face and thought the facial hair would create a thinning look. The only thing it created was a round, chubby face with a goatee. That's OK. I liked it. And when I finally went bald the following year, I thought the shaved head, goatee'd look fit me pretty well.

Also, I had never seen myself with absolutely no facial hair - that is, bald and clean shaven - and I was curious as to what it looked like.

Oops. I haven't done anything that stupid since my best man convinced me to grow a beard, despite being bald. Thankfully, there are no pictures of that turbulent period.

The consensus is that the clean shaven look makes me appear younger. Probably. But most of all, I just look weird. When I went into work the next day, about 75% of the folks I interacted with didn't even make a comment, which tells me one of two things: either they were following their mom's advice in not saying anything if they didn't have anything nice to say; or (and more likely), my face is so utterly unremarkable, that anything short of a pierced forehead wouldn't be worth reacting to.

As for me, I promised that I would give my new look one month before I judge. Today marks the halfway point and although I will continue to shave for the next couple of weeks, let's just say that I am looking forward to having my dog come near me again.

Prime Time

God bless the recession.

Ok, so maybe that is not the politically correct thing to say, especially when I have friends that are out of work. But thanks to the Democrats, they will be collecting unemployment benefits until 2819, so I have peace of mind knowing that they are going to be fine. And if it turns out that they aren't going to be fine, then I will be accepting applications for the 2010 Patriots season. Hey, neither life nor football (aren't they one in the same?) stops just because you are broke.

Because I am a glass half-full type of person, I'm always looking to turn a frown upside down. So while the rest of the world bitches and moans about inconsequential things, such as not having any money, I'm taking note of all the great things about the world's economic clusterf&ck:

• Unbelievable deals on cars. Forget cash for clunkers. You want a car? Wait until November, when the dealers are struggling again and have to get rid of the 2009 inventory. In fact, only if you were at a NAMBLA convention the day after Jack-o died would you have seen as many sad faces as you'll see at a dealership come November.
  

• Unbelievable deals on houses. Let's face it, if you don't currently own but are looking to, the market will never get any better. And I know of what I speak, having incurred a loss of more than $30K when I sold my condo. And to the woman who bought my old place: I just want you to know that I jury-rigged the sink in the 2nd bathroom to temporarily stop leaking just long enough so that it would pass inspection. Take that.
  

• Unbelievable deals on Prime steak. In fact, this bullet it so important, I am going to devote the rest of the blog entry to it.

If you know me just a little bit, then you know I am a steak snob. Several times per year, I will visit an incredibly expensive restaurant for the right to drop obscene amounts of money on steak. And why do I do this? Mostly because I have numerous and deep psychological issues. But beyond that, because these restaurants serve the very best quality of steak there is. It is called "Prime" and it is at the top of the USDA's grading scale.

This scale has 8 different grades - which are based on the amount of marbling (speckles of fat) throughout the cut and the age of the animal when it was sent to heaven. But for the purposes of this entry (and to keep you from falling asleep), we'll consider only the top 3.

USDA Prime - the best of the best. Only 2% of all beef in the country is Prime, which is the ultimate in tenderness, juiciness, and flavor. These cuts are quite pricey - usually $40 and above - and found at places such as Ruths' Chris, Smith & Wollensky, The Palm and my personal favorite: Del Friscos.

USDA Choice - Choice beef has less marbling than Prime, but it is still high quality. This is the most popular grade of beef because it contains sufficient marbling for taste and tenderness, while costing less than Prime. Just over half of the beef graded each year earns a grade of Choice. If you order a steak at most decent restaurants (i.e., not Applebees), you're likely getting a Choice cut. Generally, these steaks are $35 and below. However, there are a growing number of "nice" restaurants that are selling Choice cuts at Prime prices. Easy enough to tell, though. Look at the menu - the restaurant will almost always boast that their steaks are USDA Prime on the menu. If you don't see it, you're getting Choice. If this is the case, be sure to complain to the waiter and then kick him in the nuts. Just because.

USDA Select - This is generally a lower-priced grade of beef with less marbling than Choice. Select has the least amount of marbling, making it leaner than, but often not as tender, juicy and flavorful as the other two top grades. About a third of beef graded falls into this category. Until recently, most of the beef carried at the supermarket was Select grade. And if you order a steak at places such as Friendly's, TGIFriday's or your local coffee shop, you'll almost certainly get Select. You're better off eating a Big Mac.

So what is my point? Well, I don't have one. Except for this. Apparently, all of the doom and gloom about the economy has had quite a negative impact on the top-end restaurants that serve Prime steak. These types of places depend on businesspeople with large expense accounts and schmucks like me who indulge for a special occasion. Today, expense accounts are just enough to pay for Pizza Hut and anyone with even an iota of common sense isn't dropping $200 on dinner, so the Smith & Wollenskys of the world are really struggling.

And because these restaurants are struggling, they aren't buying nearly as many steaks as they used to. So where is all of this excess inventory going?

Costco. For $9.99 per pound.

I haven't been this excited since I was told that Santa Claus doesn't exist. Before the recession, the only place to find Prime steaks was at the aforementioned restaurants or online through the wholesaler (which included a very high markup). That's it. There simply wasn't enough to be sold through traditional retail channels.

But today? I can go over to Costco (a very convenient 3 minute drive from my office) and pick up 4 Prime ribeyes for less money than what I would spend on one steak at Ruths Chris. Crazy. And freaking awesome.

In the interest of full disclosure, you won't get the exact same taste at home with a Costco Prime steak as you would at a high-end restaurant. That is because the restaurant will let the steak age for a few weeks, season it with a few secret ingredients and cook it at a much higher temperature than you can at home. Still, the Costco Prime steak is more tender, more juicy and more flavorful than anything you can buy anywhere else. And did I mention that it's only $9.99 per pound?

So while most of the world is caught up in their "woe is me" attitude, I prefer to look on the bright side. Hopefully, the nation's economic recovery will be slow, affording me the opportunity to tailgate with Prime steaks at every Pats game this fall.

And although my birthday isn't for another 7 months, feel free to head to Costco and send me an early gift. This deal isn't going to be around forever, you know...

Vacation

For only the second time in 7 years, I took a summer vacation (the other trip was for my honeymoon, which is somewhat mandatory). Usually, I am philosophically opposed to summer vacations, which I rationalize thusly: why take time off from my warm weather home so that I can visit another warm weather city? Makes no sense. I'd rather go away when it's cooler in Boston and I can visit friends, family or poker tables in warmer climates.

However, having to clear snow off the windows of a rental car in Vegas last December effectively shot a hole in my carefully crafted theory. Global warming my tuchus. It snowed in the freaking desert. Somebody alert the Sci Fi Channel and David Arquette - sounds like the plot for the next cheesy Saturday night movie.

Anyway, for part one of the trip, Jenn and I climbed into the family truckster - which bore an eerie resemblance to a Boeing 757 - and flew to Colorado to visit my cousin Susan, her husband Evan and their kids, Ben and Ellie.

The first sign of trouble was when we left Boston and arrived in Denver on time. When does that ever happen? If that wasn't bad enough, our luggage came out in a timely fashion. Stop messing with my head, United Airlines.

Susan and family live in Fort Collins, which is about an hour north of Denver. Fort Collins is a very cool town - it is home to Colorado State University, so downtown has a ton of cool bars, restaurants and stores - while the rest of the neighborhood is clean, friendly and chock full of nice houses.

Plus, Fort Collins has a Sonic Drive-In, which alone makes it a city worth visiting. Of course, I would say the same thing about the slums of Detroit if that part of town also had a Sonic ("buy 2 burgers, get a free handgun!") , so my perspective may be a tad jaded.

Perhaps more impressively, Fort Collins is home to the New Belgium brewery, which makes a very popular beer called Fat Tire. Naturally, it isn't available in New England, but if you're ever in a place that has it on the menu, order one and tell them I sent you. Granted, your waitress won't have any idea who I am, but still.

(Side note: the first Sonic in Massachusetts is scheduled to open shortly in Peabody, which according to MapQuest is 21 miles from my office. And if you don't think I will be making at least weekly lunchtime visits, then you don't know me (or Tim) at all.)

Anyway, the time in Colorado was a chance to relive some childhood memories. When I was a kid, my grandparents moved to the Denver area (Susan and her family were already there) and I made annual summertime visits for 8 years. While I'm not much of an outdoorsman, the mountains are amazing and we kept busy visiting some very cool and oftentimes historic places.

One day last week, the six of us climbed into the family truckster - which bore an eerie resemblance to a white minivan - and headed up. While I knew where we were headed, this was Jenn's first trip to the Rockies. I assumed she would like it because she would be that much closer to God. We drove into Rocky Mountain National Park and eventually parked the car at the visitors center, which was about 12,000 feet high. To put that into perspective, if you've ever taken the Boston-to-LaGuardia shuttle, cruising altitude is about 14,000 feet.

The last time I was at the top, the entire place was covered with snow (in the summer). This time, there was a little snow on the mountainside, but none in the parking lot or along the road. Maybe there is something to this global warming thing after all.

From there, we made our way down to Estes Park, a popular tourist town about 7,500 feet up. If you've ever watched The Shining, the hotel featured in the movie is located in Estes Park.

After 3 too-short days in Colorado, we bid my cousin adieu and climbed into the family truckster - which bore an eerie resemblance to a Boeing 757 - and headed to Sunnyvale, Calif. to visit The Stewarts - my college pal A.J., his wife Darienne and their sons Calvin and Finn. Although Jenn and I make this visit at least annually, it never gets old. The Stewarts are some of our favorite people and I absolutely adore the kids.

Again, United Airlines showed their true colors be delivering another flawless travel day between Denver and San Jose. Those bastards.

The trip included our typical California adventures: hanging at beaches, tourist towns and boardwalks along the coast, a day in some neat San Francisco museums (one of which had the impressive King Tut exhibit) and wine tasting in Sonoma.

Wine tasting was particular memorable for me, as I ended the day with a pretty healthy buzz, then proceeded to somehow not embarrass myself at mini-golf (a gift to the kids for behaving themselves while the adults imbibed) and finally, experienced a decent hangover...all before dinner.

As is the case with vacations, before we knew it, it was time to come home. When I booked the trip, I picked a flight that would ensure we would get back to Boston at a reasonable time, as Jenn would have to be at church the next morning. However, the homeless, drunk, strung-out-on-drugs guy at LaGuardia who checked in for a flight with a fake bomb in his luggage first thing that morning clearly had other ideas.

Needless to say, massive delays ensued - which was unfortunate, as the family truckster that was taking us back home started the day at LaGuardia before heading to Chicago and onto San Francisco. Thankfully, Darienne had the foresight to check our flight status before we left the house, so we weren't stuck at the airport all day. As it turns out, our flight which was due to arrive in Boston at 8:30 p.m. did not land until 12:30 a.m. By the time we got home, unpacked the necessities and turned out the lights, it was 2 a.m.

Thanks a lot United. I hate you. Or at least I did, until you sent both Jenn and myself $250 vouchers for the inconvenience. All hail homeless, drunk, strung-out-on-drugs guys with fake bombs in their luggage!

Pics of the trip are on my Facebook page.

I Saw the Sign...

Do you believe in omens? I never used to, until.....

(cue mystical music and dissolve picture)

It was January 2008 and my friend AJ called. We were just days away from the AFC and NFC championship games and both of our teams were playing for the right to go to the Super Bowl (AJ, who lives in Silicon Valley, is a huge Packers fan). The first 5 seconds of the conversation were going well, until he said four words that would forever come back to haunt us:

"I have an idea."

In hindsight, I should have just hung up on him.

'If our teams win on Sunday, we should watch the game together. In Vegas."

Within 3 seconds of hanging up the phone, I was online, looking at airfares and hotels. We were absolutely confident that both the Pats and Pack would be victorious - the Pats hadn't lost a game all season and were playing the Chargers, whose QB and running back were very much banged up. As for the Packers, they were playing the NY Giants. The Giants had a pretty good year, but the Packers had an excellent year and the game was in Green Bay, where the temperature was hovering around zero. And nobody is better in those conditions than Brett Favre.

Of course, the Packers lost, primarily because of Favre.

That should have been the end of it. Had both teams won, it would have been a blast to meet up in Vegas, each of us rooting for our teams amongst the chaos of a sportsbook on Super Sunday. But, it was not meant to be. Oh well, it was probably for the best.

Until we spoke later that week and he said, "I'm thinking we should go anyways."

We should have known better. The Packers lost - wasn't that an omen? And if there is one place in the world where fate should not be tempted, isn't it Vegas?

The Packers losing was omen #1.

Omen #2? Our hotel catching fire 3 days before the trip.

If we had any smarts whatsoever, we would have recognized these signs and called the whole thing off. Instead, we yukked it up and rebooked ourselves at the Luxor, which is the Motel 6 of the Strip...you don't exactly brag about staying there. Neither would Tom Bodett.

Ironically, the days in Vegas leading up to the game were fun and profitable. We made good money at the poker tables, treated ourselves to some pricey meals and took in a Jerry Seinfeld show. On the day of the game, we ended up with front row seats in the Mirage sportsbook, thanks to a favor called in by a friend.

I brought an extra shirt for AJ, so that day, we were both Pats fans...and because we were utterly convinced that they would win handily, we bet on them, in a number of different ways. The tourist money being bet on the game favored the Giants, but that also reflected the fact that Giants fans in Vegas outnumbered Pats fans by about 3-2. The professional gamblers were taking the Pats, so we had that going for us.

Until the game ended.

Actually, by the time the 4th quarter started, AJ & I knew that we were going to lose our bets. The Pats would have had to blow the Giants out in the last 15 minutes and that clearly wasn't going to happen. As the game wound down, I didn't give the money a second thought...I was too nervous about the outcome.

After the game, I was seriously shellshocked. Perhaps having an emotional attachment to a sports team is a bit irrational, but in my incredibly simple (and slightly pathetic) life, the New England Patriots rank pretty high on the list of things that are important to me.

I was crushed. Not because of the money. And not because the Pats simply lost the game.

For most of their existence, the Patriots were the laughingstock of the NFL. Whatever could go wrong usually did. Watching them ascend from the outhouse to the penthouse over the last decade has been a tremendously enjoyable experience for me, even more so as a season ticket holder since 1994.

Had the Pats won, they would have done something no other team had ever done: gone 19-0. Sure, the 1972 Dolphins went undefeated, but their record was 17-0, thanks to a shorter regular season. A victory would have taken the Pats to another level. They wouldn't have just been a dynasty. They wouldn't have just been 1 of only 2 undefeated teams. They would have been immortal. In all likelihood, they would have been known as the best team in the history of the NFL, and who knows, maybe in all of sports.

And it would have been MY team people were talking about.

But they couldn't do it. And that is why it hurt so badly for me. Perhaps they choked. Perhaps it was just karma. Maybe if they play 10 times, the Pats win 8, but it didn't matter. They just couldn't do it.

After the game, which ended around 7 p.m. Vegas time, AJ and I went to dinner.

And then we went to bed. (Um, not together)

Yup, by 9:30, we were in the hotel room and lying in bed (not together). Sure, we could have gone out on what was our last night in town, but had we done so, we probably would have done something stupid, like drink way too much, gamble way too much and in all likelihood, both.

The next day, I flew home in a funk. And I didn't come out of that funk for about a month. That is how much it hurt.

Do I hold Vegas responsible? Of course not. The game would have ended the exact same way if I was home watching it on my couch. But there is an energy and aura in Vegas that makes any game seem infinitely more meaningful...even the Super Bowl. While I can only imagine what it must be like to be on the winning side, I know what it's like to be on the losing side, and it pretty much sucked.

I've always said that even the losing trips to Vegas are fun. And while I don't regret going, maybe we should have paid a little more attention to those omens.

Where the Hell Have I Been?

Wow. It's been 19 days since I last graced the online world (and intruded on yours) with a blog post. And while I could offer up my busy life as an excuse, it's not much of one. I don't really have a life, much less a busy one. I do have a dog, however. As well as a pimple that keeps reappearing on my forehead. However, I digress.

Since my last post:

• The in-laws visited. And, the weekend didn't suck. I seem to recall a nice dinner out that Friday evening (even nicer because they paid), the discovery of a terrific breakfast place on Saturday morning and grilling and dining outside on Saturday night.
  

• I got promoted at work. And while this was generally a good thing, a bit of chaos involving office assignments ensued. Although I "took one for the team," I do have a window again, which helps ease the sting.
  

• I went to Vegas. Yes, again. This time for my buddy Tim's bachelor party. And as I expertly predicted months ago, it did not snow. In fact, it was cloudless and in the 90s for just about the entire trip. All-in-all, a very successful trip: all of Tim's friends got along very well, we engaged in a lot of fun, mostly legal activities, Del Friscos was as good as it's ever been, I won money at the tables...AND took a bump that gave me a voucher for the next flight to Vegas in December. Good times.
  

• Jenn left me. Albeit for a God conference in Grand Rapids. Why God, or anyone else, would want to meet up in Grand Rapids is beyond me - although I suspect it's better than Detroit - but who am I to question the Almighty?
  

• I went to Tim and Lauren's wedding. While it was definitely a good time, I was most impressed by the food. It wasn't just good, it was extremely good. Beef Wellington appetizers? You had me at Beef Wellington. The filet for dinner was tender and actually cooked medium rare and the accompanying risoto was damn fine. Oh, and the open bar was nice.

• Jenn returned home. And subsequently refused to cook dinner. Something about traveling all day and getting in at 7:30 p.m. Whatever.
  

Anyway, I plan to resume a more normal blogging schedule - at least once a week - with the next update coming up in a few days. I am going to use that time to appropriately mourn the passing of Billy Mays and appropriately mock anyone who seriously mourns the passing of Michael Jackson.

And I am going to buy an iPhone.