Minor offenses

Last week I wrote about how I appreciate the little things in life, but consequentially I also am easily irked by seemingly innocuous offenses. I compiled a list of examples of small offenses I tend to blow out of proportion.

• Having to grocery shop twice in one day.
• Drivers who wave to you after nearly running you over ("Oh hi! Didn't see you there! Let me wave to you so you feel better about the fact I nearly ended your life.")
• The winners/losers of the Academy Awards.
• People who believe in Bigfoot.
• Coyotes howling outside my window right before I go to bed.
• Any other noises that disturb my slumber.
• Feeding the goats (why can't I let the coyotes get them?)
• People who walk slowly (I'm a fast walker who takes big steps. Get out of my way when I'm walking down the street or in a hallway).
• People who can't pronounce "Dylan."
• People who yell loudly on their cell phones in public (I don't want to hear about your latest domestic drama while I'm waiting for the bus).
• People who line up early at the ferry.
• People who disrespect The Godfather, The Giants, or The Boss.
• People who argue over the use of the Oxford comma (it honestly doesn't matter, it's a stupid argument to have and one I flip-flop over regarding usage).
• People in general.
• Being asked to clean-up someone else's mess. Especially from the person who made the mess.
• Opposing sports fans at my arena/park/stadium who aren't respectful (there are rules to being a visiting team's fan. Someday I'll probably compile those into a list, too).
• Seahawk fans on Facebook.
• Blake Griffin. Period.
• Being the last one to know something (to be honest, this happens so often it doesn't actually bother me anymore).
• Not being able to tell if the person talking to him/herself in public is insane or just using one of those mobile device ear pieces.

The little things in life

I’m a simple man with simple tastes and simple likes. I don’t expect much out of life, and I usually don’t get much.
 

What I like the most, however, and what I’ve come to expect is the little things in life.

I don’t know why, but I’ve always preferred the simple little things to major events. Not that I didn’t enjoy high school graduation, college graduation, the birth of my sisters, my first kiss, my first car, etc. Those things just don’t come around very often. So I’ve learned to appreciate the little everyday things.

Now that I think about it, I only enjoyed the birth of my second sister. The first one ruined the sweet deal I had going as an only child in which I got all the attention.

A door held open for me, a smile or nod in the street by a passerby, not getting run over in a parking lot. That stuff is surprisingly pleasant. Especially as a city kid where you’re lucky if a stranger doesn’t mug you in the street. Kidding, kidding! That’s only in Oakland. 

On the flip side, I am easily offended by people who don’t do these things. Someone cutting me off, closing a door in front of me, making me rush to the store to buy one thing when I’ve already been to the store, agencies failing to notify me when I owe money (those last couple were oddly specific, wouldn’t you say?) I take little offenses like that rather seriously. 

Which is why I’ve always gone out of my way to do the little things for other people. At home, visiting someone, or in public, the one thing I never want to do is cause an affront – with the exception of religious fundamentalists, Seahawk fans, and anybody from Los Angeles. I always want to insult those people.

Facebook has made this habit simultaneously better and worse. I like wall posts from friends, messages, and I like “likes.” On the other hand, something that gets no response is a bit of a letdown – especially since half my statuses and whatnot are trying to be funny. Luckily I don’t have that same reaction to this blog, because I already know nothing will come of this (he said before becoming a multi-millionaire blogger).

But the stuff I like the most is the little things that happen with friends. I’ve never been one for parties or extravagant events because I’m a loser. No, not that! It’s because I prefer the little things. I prefer the quieter, intimate moments with people (and because I’m a loser). Seeing a movie, a meal together, a small gathering with close friends, someone going the extra mile to give me a ride, or just talking.

I've always tried to help my friends without asking for anything in return. I feel small gestures like that solidify a friendship more than anything.

Just the invitation to do something, like to a party or movie or something, goes a long way for me. Even if I don’t actually go, the thought is greatly appreciated. I like being thought of, I guess. I like having my existence acknowledged, albeit in small ways.

Remember that as you go about your lives. Remember to do the little things – for yourself and for others. You never know how much the simplest gestures might mean to someone. Maybe even to yourself.

Keep your eye on the birdie

Travel back in time with me again to middle school. This is the story of how I suffered my most severe bit of head trauma. It might explain a lot about me.

My good friend “Puma” and I had PE class together during 8^th grade. First thing in the morning, we lined up in the front of the gym to engage in the ritual weeding out of the nerds by the jocks 

Oh, don’t worry; it wasn’t that bad at our school. But needless to say, there were those who excelled and those who were picked last. Being on the pudgier (ok, ok – fat) side, I tended to be picked toward the end when students were allowed to pick their own teams. The exception to this rule was any game that required a goalie. By junior year of high school, I had established myself as a damn tough goalie when it game to handball, speedball, and soccer (aka football if you are European, Hispanic, or one of those douchey American soccer fans. You know the type). I can vividly remember imprints of the patterns on the ball perfectly duplicated on my arms after some PE classes.

But I’m jumping ahead in life. This story has nothing to do with my time as an above average PE class goalie. This story deals with the manly sport of badminton.

Yes, badminton. The one with the mini tennis rackets and the ping-pong ball with feathers on it – humorously referred to as a “shuttlecock.” Certainly humorous to an 8^th grade boy, anyway.

It was badminton week in PE, and as was so often the case, Puma and I were partners – challenging the world! In this case, “world” means “7^th and 8^th graders at our school, in our specific PE class.”

During one particular match, I was playing up front and Puma was playing back. A good back-and-forth was taking place between our team and our opponents. I moved a bit and started raising my racket to return a volley when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head.

The next thing I remember, I was on the ground looking up at the gym lights. And Puma was still playing badminton! It wasn’t until he tripped over me, allowing our opponents to score, that Puma took notice of my condition.

As we called off the game and he escorted me over to the PE teacher, I pieced together the puzzle of what happened. By moving back on the shuttlecock (tee-he, tee-he, says my 8^th grade self) I entered into Puma’s zone. He too had moved to play the shuttlecock (snicker, snicker) and swung at it, somehow simultaneously connecting with the shuttlecock and my head (BAHAHAHAHA!!! That settles it! I’m just calling it a birdie from now on!). I blacked out at that point, albeit for a grand total of three seconds. Just enough time for me to hit the ground. 

Puma had no idea what happened because he was looking up at the birdie (see!) the whole time. He never realized he hit me in the head until after he tripped while still playing! What kind of a partner is that!?!? He went on without me and never even noticed the agony I was in! Sprawled across the floor right next to him!

Puma did admit he thought the birdie felt a bit different when he hit it that time. That was the impact with my head he felt, not the birdie.

I stood/sat (I can’t exactly remember which. I wonder why?) over by the side of the gym for ten minutes before things started swimming in my head. All the students were starting to take amorphous blob shapes, so I asked to go to the nurse’s office. They promptly called my parents and sent me home for the day. My symptoms regressed after that, I never visited the doctor, and was back at school the next day. Health care is for the weak!

To this day, I like to guilt trip Puma by reminding him of the time he gave me a concussion and abandoned me in the middle of the gym. He, in turn, likes to threaten that he’ll pull out a badminton racket if we ever start arguing something. We have a very caring friendship, as you can tell.

And to this day, I have a strong fear of badminton.

Things at 22 I never thought I'd see at 23

I've been 23-years-old for less than a month and I've already seen things I never expected I would at 22.

• Gun control being seriously considered.
• The 49ers in the Super Bowl.
• My 18-year-old minivan still running.
• Scratch that, the fan belt is now gone.

• My little sister gossiping about boys with her friends.
• They grow up so fast. Maybe too fast. Always beware of older brothers.

• People seriously upset the world didn't end in 2012.
• The Warriors with a winning record

Former Knick David Lee can't believe present Warrior David Lee is 5th in the Western Conference right now.

• Paul Wulff in the Super Bowl.
• A Korean pop star riding a giant pistachio.
• The start of the NHL season.
• A hip hop star performing in the Super Bowl halftime show again.
• Sooooo many old white guys. Which, admittedly, is my preferred brand of music.

• A power outage at the Super Bowl.
• Clearly the Super Bowl is on my mind. I'm sorry! It was just yesterday, and it was so thrilling to have my team in it this year! And so heartbreaking to watch them lose. 
• Can I go ahead and take this time to mention I'm tired of all the talk about the commercials? I don't care where babies come from, who got to the Coke, why Bar Rafaeli was making out with a geek, or what God made on the 8th day. I just watched a helluva football game, what were you paying attention to? Rant over.

• Andres Torres back in a Giants uniform.

• My other little sister successfully complete a homework assignment...on time no less!
• The Rock holding the WWE Championship again.
• I told you pro wrestling is a guilty pleasure of mine.

Finally...