It’s been awhile since I last wrote. I’ve been busy writing papers in between bouts of rigorous drinking at the various St. Patrick’s Day celebrations around Chicago over the last week and a half. However, now that I’ve turned in all my papers and the academic quarter is over, I’ve got an abundance of free time on my hands. So now more than ever it is imperative that I find a new and constructive hobby to occupy my time. So I thought I’d take this occasion to sift through and evaluate the various suggestions put forth by the loyal of readers of jc/bot.com:
Ping Pong Tournaments at the Y –
This suggestion seemed promising at first. I had a ping pong table growing up, and I’m sure I could get back into the swing of things rather quickly. The fact that I would be playing in tournaments is an added bonus in that this activity would also satiate my desire to compete. However, this plan hit a snag when a friend here in Chicago announced that he hoped to movie into a room at the local YMCA. Never mind the fact that he owns real estate across the country, he espoused the desire to live in a cheap establishment that was nonetheless rich in camaraderie amongst the boarders. Needless to say it would be exceedingly awkward to run into this ostensibly heterosexual friend while he is hanging out with his fellow Y inhabitants. Every time I turn a corner at in the building I’d be apprehensive about what I might see: a snorkel session in the hot-tub, improper and dangerous use of the pommel horse in the gym, impromptu horseplay in the steam room…
Perform During Amateur Night at a Local Strip Club -
I know what most of you are thinking. “I’ve seen him own the dance floor at ______ (fill in the blank) ‘s wedding. I bet he’d be good at this.” But I’ve been there and done that. For some reason my wedding skills don’t translate to the pole.
Beer Making –
I actually love this idea and it has crossed my mind before. However, I see some potential drawbacks to this plan. For one thing, I was not particularly adept at chemistry in high school. While Mr. Herbert stood in front of the class droning on about moles, my friends and I sat in the back of the class playing word games. I can still see the glimmer of hope flash across his face when one of us would raise our hands. You could tell he was overjoyed by the prospect of one of his students taking enough of an interest to ask a question. However, this countenance of joy would quickly turn sour as we would ask something like “Mr. Herbert, what’s a six letter word for… ” Furthermore, our apathy proved dangerous as our lax attitude toward safety led to some near-death experiences. Who knew you shouldn’t drop a flaming hot crucible into an enormous glass beaker filled with cold water? My lack of chemistry skills notwithstanding, I don’t think I possess the refined palate necessary to brew my own beer. I enjoy a fine micro-brew just as much as the next guy, but I’m just as happy drinking a Busch light can that’s been sitting out in the sun all day (While I generally do not discriminate between micro and mass produced, there is actually one genre of beer where I can skillfully detect the subtle nuances between each blend. Having living in the Bronx for several years, I consider myself a connoisseur of malt liquor. From the stinging bite of King Cobra to the soothing pastoral qualities of Country Club, I am well-versed in the premium malt liquor scene. Unfortunately I don’t think any of the home brewing kits cater to those who prefer their beers malted).
Since I was unable to zero in on one specific suggestion, I was forced to fall back on my one of my old hobbies. Today I spent the afternoon at Hawthorne Race course on the Southside. This lovely venue for horse racing (for you New Yorkers, if you imagine that Yonkers Raceway, pre-Empire City renovations, was situated between Newark airport and the industrial area off of the New Jersey turnpike you have an idea of what Hawthorne is like) proved to be entertaining not just for the handicapping but for the people watching as well. The middle-aged men wearing ill-fitting jumpsuits, chomping on cigars, and yelling at the televisions were pretty much par for the course at any track or OTB. What was particularly interesting was listening to the various children in attendance that seemed to be on their Spring break as well. While some of the kids seemed to enjoy their day at the track, rushing up to the rail to watch the horses gallop past, others seemed to be having a rougher go of it. For one, there were those kids who seemed to be at the mercy of their guardians’ gambling habits. It was sad to hear once such kid ask “Can we get lunch if you win this one?” Still others seemed to be developing the bad habits of those around them. I heard one child begging his father for an advance on his two dollar allowance because he had “a feeling about the next one!”
Listening to these forlorn kids reaffirmed my desire to find a more productive hobby. Whether it’s constructing the perfect plate of nachos (I wonder if OVI has a summer internship program) or becoming a crossword puzzle master (this seems a far way off because I frequently get stumped by the puzzle in my friend’s middle school newspaper. Of course the kids in his school don’t read the newspaper and he creates an impossibly hard crossword filled with esoteric Cleveland sports references to get back at me for beating him at Jeopardy everyday when we lived together), I appreciate the ideas. Keep the suggestions coming as I’ll most likely be trying them all during my time off from school!