I built a PC not long ago that’s dedicated to the TV, for streaming and what not.  I was using Media Center to stream Netflix, but have pretty much stopped using MC in favor of just using a web browser to get Netflix content.  The only thing I still find MC useful for is watching ripped movies that are stored locally, but if this enhancement can help then that would make it a much more attractive option.

Despite all I enjoyed the past weekend.  I met the folks in Waxahachie for breakfast and to return Mom’s laptop (now loaded with Unbuntu).  After breakfast we cased the Walmart, and scoped out a little local nursery where they bought a fat frog planter.  When I got back home we went swimming at Mitzy’s sister’s house with two of the little ones on Saturday, and we had a nice time.  The water was cool, and the sun was hot, so it was not a bad combination.

Sunday I went up to the pub to watch FC Dallas play Philly, and despite being the only one there watching the game I enjoyed the match.  FC Dallas won 3-1.  My original plans had been to go watch Mad Men at the Angelika with Mitzy after the match, but while at the pub I got an email from a guy I had been emailing about indoor soccer.  He informed me that they had a game that night, and wondered if I could come out.  Luckily enough, on Saturday, after hanging out with the folks I had stopped by Sports Authority and purchased indoor boots, soccer socks, and shin guards.  This meant I was equipped to go out and play, which had not been the case when he had called me on Thursday about their match that evening.

So that’s how I found myself on a Sunday night at the Inwood Soccer Center playing indoor soccer.   We ended up getting pounded 9-3, but I still had a blast and had some decent touches.  The guys on the team are young, or at least look younger by about 10+ years, but they seemed pleasant enough fellows and were happy to have an extra man on board.  I hung back and played defense, which seems to be my natural inclination.  I roamed up the pitch as far as midfield, but not much further.

Last night, Tuesday, I was back at the pub for the USA v. Brazil Int’l friendly.  I met some really cool people, and enjoyed watching the match even though it was a poor result 0-2.   I discovered while there that there is a national support group for the USMNT, named American Outlaws, and while I couldn’t join that night I did it this morning via their website!  They do a lot of organizing for the US national team, and you get discounts and what-not for game tickets, travel to games, merch, etc, etc.   I ended up hanging out on the balcony with some blokes who were friendly enough.  We talked about football for awhile, and ranged into a bit of politics as well.  It wasn’t a bad cap to the evening.

I have another indoor match on Sunday, and that will be the end of the summer season, but the fall season will start soon, and hopefully I’ll get to keep playing with these guys.  Though I have a backup group if it all falls through.

Chacho can be a little territorial, but he’s a big guy and physical exertion isn’t his thing, meaning that confrontations with him don’t last long.  On this occasion, as Blue the Cat approached and Chacho noticed, I had a feeling that there was going to be an altercation; there was a sense of expectation in the air.  Blue the Cat gave Chacho, and me, the once over, most likely gauging how he could get onto my lap.   After a few moments, in which I’m sure there were complex calculations involved, Blue made his move.  He stepped up onto my leg, and at that moment Chacho lunged, well lazily lunged, and bit Blue on his fore-leg.  It looked to be a pretty significant nip, not enough to do any real damage, but enough to convey a message that the lap was occupied and he’d best be moving on.  Blue’s response wasn’t to retreat, or run away, instead he gazed at Chacho a moment as if to say, “What the hell, dude?”    Now I’m really curious, and I’m wondering what’s going to happen, Blue is our special child, and while he will instigate the other cats to chase him, he’s not overly confrontational.  That’s when he raised a paw, Chacho was still staring at him, then the warning shot came, hitting nothing but air.   In retrospect I imagine that Blue had been testing his range, gauging reaction, because then came two very quick whaps to Chacho’s face.   His eyes closed, he pulled back his head as the blows landed.
Like I said, Chacho isn’t the most energetic fellow, and besides he was already lounging on my lap.  He did nothing, but he looked up at me as if imploring me to do something about this egregious affront to his dignity.  In the meanwhile Blue had already climbed over Chacho and was positioning himself to lay down on the small part of my lap that wasn’t covered in cat already.  I guess they had both made their point, and they both settled in, willing to share.

We won our nation’s independence for $2.4 billion in today’s money, the Congressional Research Service report said. That was good value, considering that we now fritter the same amount every nine days in Afghanistan. Mr. Obama, isn’t it time to rebalance our priorities?

After reading about those that fight wars, and those that want to fight revolutions, it’s important to consider the cost of those things.  The United States already spends almost 60% of its budget on military applications, what I believe is called ‘National Security’.  At what point do we realize that what we are doing isn’t effective or efficient, and then how do we make that change?  There are better ways to spend money, there are better ways to win hearts and minds.

You would never win my heart or mind by blowing up my countrymen.  Even if I didn’t like them much.

All that was to point out that I also found this, somehow: The War Project.  I only read one story there, Sgt. George Zubaty’s story.  It’s compelling stuff, and you begin to understand that there are some hard-core motherfuckers out there, that aren’t showy about it.  They just are.  I had read this story before the one above, and as I read the one above I thought about how mistaken those fellows learning to shoot targets at 500 yards are; though to their credit they seem to be aware of it, at least those interviewed.   I’m not sure that I wanted to make any bold statements, only that I found the juxtaposition of the two stories interesting, and for some reason it seems they are both pointing out something important.  I’m not sure what.

After all that I felt pretty good about doing some googlin’, and I discovered that the world of men’s ameautre soccer is not an easy on to break into.  It would seem that some basic understanding, some base level of knowledge is needed to really understand the information you find on the Internet.  At some point I discover the North Texas Premier Soccer League Association Club Thing’s website and I made a play at it by filling out the little ‘Player looking for team’ form they had secretly placed on the website in an obscure location.  I informed them that I am 36, have no soccer skills or experience, and that I’m terribly out of shape and perhaps a bit over weight.  I didn’t expect much to come of it.  But then I received an email from Texas Arsenal, who is not affiliated with the English Premier League team of the same name, sans Texas.  I learned that by reading the FAQ on their webpage.  I emailed the fellow back who had seemingly sent out the email, though it seemed to be a sort of general announcement that they were holding try-outs/practice.  It seemed interesting, and it was what I was interested in trying, but being a cautious person I emailed him back to make sure that someone like  me would be welcome at what seemed to a fairly athletic group.  He responded to let me know that it would be okay and that they could probably find a place for me.  That’s when I went back and examined the email.  I then realized that the practice time was at 6:30 the next day, and seeing as I was missing some required gear, AND the practice was located at best 40 minutes from me.  I admit that I still considered the logistics of pulling it off, but then figured that this was maybe too much, too soon for me.  So I took a pass, and at the end of the day I’m glad I did if for no other reason than that there was a heat index of around 105 degrees on that day.

So…still kind of wanting to play some soccer I decided to try a new approach.  I emailed Mitzy’s brother, who I know to have played soccer from time-to-time, to see if he knew of a good option for someone in my particular situation.   I hadn’t done this before because I was thinking that he had played somewhat seriously, and that I would just be opening myself up for a good scoffing, or perhaps ridicule.  Mind you, this was in my imagination.   M’s brother is a good chap.  Indeed, he has arranged a sort of tentative possibility for me, as it turns out he has a friend that plays in the ‘F’ Group for an indoor soccer league.  Now, F is as far down as you can go, and while I kind of turn my nose up at indoor soccer, in reality it’s probably the best place for me to start this desired insanity.

So this is all to document that I could be playing some indoor soccer in the relatively near future, and I’m quite jazzed about it.  How fun.

I’m no seasoned footballer, but I completely enjoyed the entire spectacle and fully embraced all of the emotional euphoria and catastrophic heartbreak that the World Cup provides.  I purposefully committed emotionally to the entire concept, and I don’t feel that the effort was wasted.  And having done that I can see why so many people around the world are so enthusiastically enveloped by the sport.  For that entire 90 minutes there’s nothing else in the world going on, and you don’t worry about anything, you don’t think about anything.  If your team wins then you are too overjoyed to care about anything else, and if they lose you’re too heartbroken to care about anything else.   You can say this of almost any other sport, but it’s the concept that there are so many people around the world all joined together in this emotional maelstrom that makes it extra special.  When the U.S. lost to Ghana, as heartbroken as I was, I suddenly had sympathy, perhaps empathy, for all of the other fans out there who’s teams were gone.

This is the third World Cup that I was aware of on any significant level.  I started small with the 2002 Cup, and followed it only distantly.  In 2006 I was able to pay more attention to the matches, and thanks to Univision I was able to watch a good deal of them.  By this time around I was ready to jump in with both feet, and I did so without reservation.  When I wasn’t able to watch a match I listened to it live via an app on the iPhone; it was an eight dollars well spent.  I bought two U.S. jerseys over the period, a cheap shirt from Target to begin, and a more significant replica away team jersey from E&D Deportes.  I was prepared to spend more on regalia, but the defeat against Ghana put the brakes on that…for the moment.    I’ am pleased that more effort was made to make the games accessible to those of us who wanted to be interested in the tournament, especially ESPN 3 that allowed live streaming of every game, and that ABC was willing to show matches on the weekend.  While it doesn’t live up to the great coverage of the Spanish language stations, I was pleased that it was there at all.  As a side note, a very special FU to Time Warner for not signing with ESPN to allow streaming, though for some reason it worked up until the second round.  I’m considering changing providers just for this alone.

With it all over now I’m slowly wading into the soccer world, looking for avenues to feed my desire for more football.  I was thinking earlier that these are my salad days of soccer.  I don’t know enough to be upset by any part of the game, my knowledge not refined to the point where I’m disgusted by various aspects of the game.  Everything is a wonderment and I’m only eager to experience more with the hope of recapturing the elements that I enjoyed during this most recent World Cup.   I’m tentatively excited about the beginning of the U-20 Women’s World Cup tomorrow.  More group play, more knockout stage…I admit I got a little giddy looking at the blank standings table.