Morton Malaise

Cardinals and Mets, Game 7, 7:19 PM tonight. I hope they beat the shit out of each other again tonight and the winner makes it to the Tigers broken and tired. Then again, it would be nice if the team the Tigers play is perfectly healthy so I don’t have to listen to every Cards fan I know saying, “OK, the Tigers were ALRIGHT, but so-and-so wasn’t 100%,” etc, etc, etc.

The Cards…Yadier f’in’ Molina. See you fools in the Series.Hope you’re ready.

Well, after a day of desperate clicks on every BlogPeoria option, we seem to be back from the dead. Thanks to Bill Dennis for his diligence getting us back up and running. We know it’s not your fault, Billy. We just like to give you a little ribbing every once and a while. Gotta keep you on your toes.

Friday night- BWW, Tigers win game 3 and Kenny Rogers is God. Went to bed early because I had to get up at 7 AM on Saturday to work.

Saturday- Worked 8 until noon. Around 115, we headed out to a scavenger hunt that a friend of ours puts on every year. There were about 170 people there. I sure could’ve used some help from a few of the Peoria bloggers, but alas, no way to contact them. I sure as hell didn’t know who the statue of the runner in Lower Glen Oak Park is in memory of, and we only had three hours, so there wasn’t enough time to go look.

The scavenger hunt lasted until around 6 PM, at which time the hosts of the party served up a massive amount of pulled pork, chips, and salads, as well as a bonfire. We were well into the Bud Light when the hosts brought out about 300 jello shots at around 930 PM. Needless to say, things got a bit blurry after that. Using my better judgement, we left around 1030 or 11 before any of us got too drunk.

Incidentally, I missed game 4 of the ALCS to be at said party. If I knew Magglio Ordonez was going to hit a three run walk-off homerun in the bottom of the ninth, I probably would’ve stayed home. However, the 10 phone calls I got when the game ended were welcome, and put me in a great mood for the rest of the night.

On to the Series…

I refuse to write anything about how happy I would be if the Tigers won the first 2 games of the ALCS in dominating fashion. I would fear that if I did, it may jinx them. So I guess all I have to say is THE ATHLETICS ARE GOING DOWN!!!!! We’re goin’ to Oakland, then we’re goin’ to Detroit, then we’re goin’ to St. Louis, then we’re goin’ back to Detroit, then we’re goin’ to the White House!!! YAAAAAH!!!!

Cory Lidle, pitcher for the Yankees, flew his plane into a skyscraper. I hope no one was planning on watching anything on TV for the next 5 days, because I can tell you exactly what’s going to be on:
YANKEESNEWYORKLIDLETORRELIDLETORREJETERSTEINBRENNERYANKEESREDSOXYANKEESNEWYORKCITYSKYSCRAPERLIDLETORRELIDLEPLANELIDLE.

That is all.

The guilt strikes my face like the raindrops strike the street. Cold and wet against the pavement and my heart. I’m so sorry, Beth. I’m so sorry, Ed. Leaves and tears fall in October. Fuck me and my Untouchable Soul.

Never again will I let a friend go without making my peace. Ed Fincannon, rest ye weary soul…

A friend of mine passed recently…A friend I never made my peace with…His Mother and Sister gave him a eulogy that follows:

Eulogies

For those that were unable to attend Ed’s services today I am posting what was read.

Read by Ed’s mom:
Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you, and the old life we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I, be out of mind because I, am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.
All is well.

Said by Beth (his sister): Thank you all for coming. It really means a lot to me and my family to have you all here. Many of you knew my brother as Ed, but to me he has always been my Eddie.
We loved each other as much as it was possible for a brother and sister to love each other. He wasn’t just my big brother, he was my best friend. I know it is so heartbreaking when a young person dies.
We all think about the great life that was ahead of him.
The two of us always dreamed of opening the perfect nightclub and living upstairs in some ridiculous apartment.
He wanted to make so much money that no one in his family or circle of friends would ever have to worry. Eddie was just that guy.

He celebrated life.
He loved to eat good food.
He loved to love beautiful women.
He loved his family – the whole crazy cast of characters we are.
He liked his music loud and he took pride in being the life of the party.

Don’t feel sorry for Eddie.

He experienced things in his short 25 years that some people don’t even experience in a lifetime.

He was an award winning trumpet player.
He learned how to ski & snowboard.
He could play the piano.
He was once run over by a truck.
He went to cullinary school.
He owned his own home.
He went skydiving.
He received a college degree.
He went to bartending school.
He owned his own car.
He co-founded a once popular website.
He swam in a pool of sharks.
He was an awesome DJ.
He was robbed at gunpoint.
He was loved by many women.
He was in love with even more women.

I dunno.

I could go on for hours about the things Eddie was lucky enough to experience.

It is easy for us to only focus on the fact that he will no longer be here…to make a witty comeback or to stand up in someone’s defense, but it doesn’t change any of the times we’ve shared with him.
Eddie wouldn’t want anyone to stay stricken with sorrow. He would want us all to do something crazy and fun in honor of him.

Remember him and laugh. I will miss his hugs and the face he makes when I make him laugh.

Please just keep him in your hearts and remember him as the great guy he was. My brother. My Eddie.”

That was Ed Fincannon. Rest in Peace, Brother. I wish I could’ve said Goodbye.

This just in:

Death Cab for Cutie makes me want to smoke crack and I have a pimple on my neck. Coffee cups run for president in nations of speakerphones and windshields. Don’t cry for me, Argentina. The vestibules are ruining their dresses with ketchup and punch bowls filled with the bile of the innocent bystanders to the death of the American Dream. Cannonball, bitches.

That is all.

I wish my short term memory could describe the things that have happened over the last few weeks…Pumpkin Festival cum Job Offer cum sprained ankle…Well, the sprained ankle is where I’ll start, because that’s what I rememeber the bestest.

Sunday, October 1st. I wake up at my ex’s house, in her bed. I leave her room, wake Brando up to find the E-dub. We start drinking E-dub and cola at 9 AM. We leave her house at 11 AM, head to N’Woods Park in Morton to walk the trails. We walk the trails, then Brandon jumps the fence into the cemetery to see his brother. I attempt to jump the fence and sprain the living fuck out of my ankle. I limp my uncoordinated ass over to the grave, we sit and talk for an hour or so. I’m the first non-family person that he or Unkle has ever brought to Shane’s grave. I’ve never had a friend that brings be to somewhere where they feel so vulnerable.

Monday, 2 October

I wake to go to work, and I can’t walk. The pain and the destruction in my ankle don’t let me use my right foot at all. I have sprained my right ankle before, and it has a lot to do with why I can’t use it today. I did my damnedest to get ready for work, but I couldn’t even turn my body on my right foot.