The Gospel According To Boyce
Enter the raw, unedited, unadulterated, uncut, undulating mish-mash that is my mind. The views and opinions expressed herein are what they are...my own. Enjoy them or abhor them, you've made it this far. Hang on and enjoy the ride!
 
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Beating the heat...my way
Tell me its hot outside. Go ahead, do it. I want you to...I NEED you to. Tell me how the humidity is so thick you can wave a knife in the air and spread it on a piece of bread. Tell me the projected temperature today, hell give me the week's forecast. Live a little, roll the dice, take a stab at tomorrow's heat index while you're at it. You know you want to. It's too hot not to, you'd be crazy to ignore the conflagration of the air around you.

I can see it in your eyes as you walk in the door, the cool climate controlled breeze engulfing your perspiring skin sending a long awaited chill down your spine. You let out a long cathartic sigh...aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh...as your skin eases back to the cool room temperature it has grown to know and crave. Your eyes roll back into your head with an almost orgasmic release. Your journey is over, your long tedious struggle through the merciless elements of nature has finally drawn to a close. You have bravely endured what was undoubtedly a rogue offshoot of a direct portal to hell. Either that or you have been silently stalked by an industrial grade coal furnace, following your every move like an elusive shadow in your wake. Whatever the root of the intense blaze that has singed your soul, you are now free, you are safe, the chill is on.

Tell me now, how do you feel? What is it like enduring the heat of the sun with it's rays of intense heat that are apparently confined only to the path in which you travel? While I certainly do not envy your thermal struggle, my curiosity is heightened by the glaring intensity of the plight in which you have just endured. Hell, your look of relief and exaltation alone has peaked my interest to the point that I now tinker with the thought of taking this unknown journey myself. Perhaps it's the masochist in me but I am suddenly intrigued by this phenomenon I have just witnessed. Please, do tell...what goes on outside these doors? What lies beyond the comfort and sanctity of this 72 degree safe haven in which I so obliviously dwell?

As you regain your composure, your skin fading from its intense sweat glistening redness back to its fair milky hue, I straighten up in anticipation of the forthcoming tale. You wipe your brow and neck, let out one last sigh of relief, and summon the strength to mutter the words I have longed to hear...

"Boy is it hot outside!"

And there it was. Thank you...thank you brave soul. The wisdom you have imparted, the observation of a world so far removed from my own has enlightened me in ways I will carry with me for a lifetime. This observation shall be passed down to my offspring, and I will emphasize the dire importance for them to carry this message wherever they shall roam, and to whomever they encounter in the journeys of their lives. For the message they possess and the infinite wisdom it beholds shall prove to be immensely useful when striking up general conversation, breaking the ice, eliminating the dreaded 7 seconds of silence, and above all...to display their finely crafted penchant for observing the blatantly obvious.

You my friend are a master of meteorological awareness. Your selfless conveyance of today's temperature, knowing very well that the same information has been spoken by dozens of others within a relatively short time span, is a testament to your attention to detail and tireless effort to ensure all know what truly lies outside these walls. In spite of the fact that everyone has too endured the same travels. But as they say, you can never be too sure.

They say tomorrow will be more of the same. 94 degrees with a heavy, chest compressing 95% humidity. The fruit of observation is ripe for the picking my friend. And you are the gardener of truth. For if there is ever a shred of doubt as to the root of my excessive perspiration, beet red skin, and the excess heat permeating from my pores, it will be you that I turn to in my time of uncertainty. And when you make your proclamation that, "It sure is a hot one today!" I will be the first to extend my hand and bitch-slap the living shit out of you.

And that, my friends, is how I beat the heat.
posted by Boyce 10:27 PM   0 comments
 
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Saturday, June 9, 2007
10,000 Examples of Inpetitude
Since birth I have been a die hard fan of the Philadelphia sports franchises. We are a fiercely passionate bunch who cheer, adore and worship their star players one minute...and then mercilessly boo the hell out of them when they falter. We are known nation wide as the toughest city to play against in all sports. Teams have been polled time and time again asking to name the city they hate playing in most. And time and time again Philadelphia is the clearcut winner.

We are the city that is known for booing Santa and throwing snowballs at him. We threw D-cell batteries at an opposing player who a year prior refused to sign with the Phillies. We booed President Herbert Hoover, chasing him out of the stadium in a release of frustration from a horrible season. We cheered mockingly as a hated player on a rival team lay motionless on the football field with a neck injury that ended his career. We fight anyone who dares to cheer for the opposing team, and anyone crazy enough to enter our stadiums with opposing teams garb is as good as dead. We were the first city to install a court and jail in our stadium to deal with the insane hooligans. We are a passionate...and yes, sometimes too passionate a bunch. Growing up I attended many a game, with the most vivid memories being me as a 10 year old boy hearing 19,000 fans should "ASSSSSSSSS HOOOOOOOOLE, ASSSSSSSS HOOOOOOOLE!!!!" To a referee who made a bad call. If you were oblivious to obscenities going into a game, you earned your wings by the end of it. I was in awe, I was in shock...I was in love.

There are many theories as to why we are the way we are. One of the more logical theories is rooted from the generations upon generations of failure and ineptitude. As the Philadelphia sports franchises have each respectively been around for generations, the opportunity for defeat is frequent and long standing. Year after year we are mounted with frustration, let down, and heart ache. Every time we seem to be in the grasp of glory we squander our chances in mind boggling ways. Thus "The Philly Curse" was born.

Phlladelphia has endured 24 years without a sports championship. 24 years for the basketball 76ers, 26 years for the baseball Phillies, 32 years for the hockey Flyers, and47 grueling years for the city's most beloved football Eagles. With each passing year of futility the hope of the city diminishes. But in spite of the continual disappointment we come back time and time again, filling the stadiums in support. Unless of course you screw up, then you're f**ked.

Within the next few months, our Philadelphia Phillies baseball team will reach a milestone never achieved by any team in any sport in the history of our nation. This team has been in continually in existence longer than any team in sports, with its inception in 1883. As of this blog we are currently 15 games away from this milestone that captures the essence of our struggle. We are a mere 15 losses away from reaching 10,000 losses all-time. TEN THOUSAND DEFEATS FOR ONE SINGLE TEAM!! And what do we have to show for our 124 years of "professional" play? A mere 9...NINE...playoff appearances and 1...ONE...world championship. Sad.

So as this passionate city prepares for this milestone, there is a celebration brewing as we embrace once again our role as the eternally defeated. In some ways it seems we secretly hope for defeat so that the city has something to bitch about. If we finally win one, where will we go from there? When the excitement of the championship finally wanes a year or two later, we will only be a few years removed from glory. Not much leverage to whine and complain there. And a city of raw, uncensored blue collared Philadelphians will be left with nothing more to bitch about than the mere daily shortcomings of individual games. Where's the fun in that? Futility and disappointment have become our identity, a birthright passed down from generations. Its the only explanation as to why we continually come back for more, filling seats and cheering our team on with an intensity unparalleled in any other city in America. We are the masochistic city fueled by failure. And we have 10,000 reasons to back it up.
posted by Boyce 12:06 PM   0 comments
 
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