Tuesday, 23 February 2010

A Pair Of Guns To Match My Skis

Sometimes I feel like an old man. Many of you would say, "Yes, you are an old man. You at least act like one!" And now I feel like one. A week after my last rugby game, my shoulder still hurts from time to time. I know it's not serious because it gets better every day. At the same time, I still have some pain when I take my shirt off. (My Chippendale's career is on pause at the moment.) The main reason I feel like an old man, though, is that the pain is the most cumbersome when I wake up. It's barely noticeable by lunchtime. Thank God I have a two week hiatus for rugby. That's all I'm gonna say on that topic.

My pain can only be so amusing and informative.

On a different matter, I am noticing a certain disconnect that has recently emerged between me and folks back home. It's ironic because this disconnect stems from something that usually brings people together: The Olympics.

But, in fact, I know relatively little about the Olympics right now. I know that the U.S. beat the Great White North at their own game in a 5-3 hockey match. (What the hell is "Ice Hockey?" If it's hockey, of course it's on ice, silly Brits!) I also know that my girlfriend Lauren really likes this one guy named Yoko Ohno or something like that. I've never heard of him before, but apparently women want to have his babies. Man, I hope Lauren isn't one of those women...

And that's about all I know. I'm sure Shawn White is doing 900's on the snowboard as usual, but even that is speculation. And yet, I bet plenty of you back home could tell me all sorts of stuff about the Olympics. Hell, you people probably even know where they are. The thing is, I can't even watch the events I want to see unless I stay up till 4:00 a.m. my time. After finally getting back onto a semi-normal sleep schedule, 4:00 a.m. is reserved for sleeping and the occasional old man bout of waking up and suddenly having to pee. What's more, if I try and watch something "as it is shown on television," the British TV police will break down my door, give me a stern talking to and charge me 1000 quid for not having a TV license. Or so the mail they send me every week tells me.

So here I sit
Broken hearted.
Came to... watch the Olympics
And I can't.

I don't feel too bad, though. Other than the hockey and the curling there's not much else that I care to see. Maybe that one where the guys ski around and shoot stuff. What's that called again? Oh yeah... Bad ass!

Also, I took a break from work tonight to go see Up In The Air. I liked the movie for several reasons. The first being the Remote Sensing time trial that appears in the opening credits. You get shots of agricultural fields and cities from above. If you're good, like Remote Sensing prodigy, Taylor Harper, you'll have no problem identifying the locations. Later in the movie they use the same technique as an establishing shot, which gives you roughly 5 seconds before they reveal which city the viewer is seeing. I know my boy Tay can get it in 3. How long will it take you?

I say "will" instead of "would" because you are going to see this movie. You don't know it yet, but you will. It's one of those movies. It's certainly funny, but it's not a comedy. I guess you could call it a drama, but the movie doesn't get extremely dramatic very often. If you've seen Thank You For Smoking, you'll know what I mean. It's not surprising as both movies were directed by Jason Reitman, son of...Frankenstein? No. Close. Son of director Ivan Reitman. You may remember him as Egon from the 1984 classic, Ghostbusters.

I hated E.R. I thought it was contrived and basically General Hospital with a new set of beau hunks. In fact, George Clooney didn't even exist for me until the Ocean's 11 remake. But now the guy's on fire. Definitely works his magic in this movie. Go see it when you got the time. Unless you spread lame sauce on every sandwich you make, you won't be disappointed.

And that's all I got for the moment. So I think I'll go grab my guns, my skis and and chase after the proverbial James Bond of happiness. If it's Roger Moore, I'll probably catch him. If it's Sean Connery... well, let's just hope it's not Connery. For my sake.

May your slopes have ski bunnies.

Seeya.

- Jonathan "Biathlon Buster" Trenary

Saturday, 20 February 2010