Thursday, September 30, 2004

Okay, About the Name

Here's the theory. You see, there's this famous guitar player in an Irish rock band whose innovations and style became the soundtrack to the latter days of my youth, and continue to this day, really. I'm not that guy. I do, however, share his given (as opposed to chosen) name. Just so there's no confusion, I wanted to make clear that this isn't written by him. So stop snooping around my garbage cans.

Ironically, I hear that he lives in Malibu now, so actually, I am a little near the Edge, some of the time.

Then, of course, there is the Yes connection. I'm not one of those guys either. I may sing high on occasion, but, c'mon. That's ridiculous.

Also, I'm a pretty cautious, middle-of-the-road sort in many ways. I would not describe myself as being "out there" in most respects. More importantly, nobody I know would describe me that way, even if in my own head I thought I were a wild and crazy guy. See? So it works on multiple levels. I went to college for four years to achieve that level of sophistication.

So, prepare yourself for entry after entry of non-controversial pablum!

Payton Manning's Happy Feet

Sub-par NFL quarterbacks are often criticized for their "happy feet," their inability to stay composed in the pocket. Payton Manning is one of the two or three top quarterbacks in the game today, undoubtedly headed for Canton if he stays healthy and productive for a few more years. He is also a big part of my fantasy league success over the last three years, so I love the guy. But in the name of all that is holy, could he please take a snap under center, just once, without all the wild gesticulations that seem to accompany every play? I know he is a head coach on the field, I know he is successful at what he does. Is it so wrong of me, then, to be driven to distraction by his chicken dance routine on every snap? Isn't it distracting to his teammates? They have to know that whatever was called in the huddle will be changed at the line. I've heard that the Colts actually call three plays in the huddle, then Payton selects one at the line. I find it remarkable that all 11 men can execute their assignments as demonstrably well as they do when they have no more than a couple of seconds to process the orders Manning shouts at them over the roar of the crowd and taunts of the opposition. It's evidently an effective system, but it certainly isn't elegant. The Colt offense always has the appearance of being threatened by imminent chaos, a system that might or might not hold together in time to run the play. Please, Payton, just once, come to the line of scrimmage, look over the defense, give two quick "huts" and be done with it. Is that too much to ask?

Yeah, Me Too

So here I am, several years behind the curve. I was introduced to blogs by Lileks, and had to actually Google the term "blog" to figure out what it meant. That's how long ago it was, long before blogs had become so mainstream that they had become the object of derision, as well as a prominent force in a Presidential election.

I could have been on the vanguard, blogging before anyone knew what it was about. I faced a fundamental problem, however: I really didn't have much to say. So many people say so much about so many things, and some say it so well. Why bother? I get plenty of enjoyment out of reading others' ruminations about the lofty and mundane.

Recently, however, I've had thoughts. Not necessarily profound thoughts, but thoughts that I didn't see expressed elsewhere. And if there's one thing the internet accomplishes, it is that no thought need go unexpressed, for good or ill. So I'll throw my hat in the ring. I'll probably close up shop within three years, which will probably be 18 months after the blog boom will be declared officially over. So be it. If anyone other than me and Andy read this thing, I'll be happy and surprised anyway.