The Three Amigos (The Ibiza Chronicles, Part I)
It's déjà vu all over again. I had finally recovered from my recent "birth v. berth" fiasco (see "If They Call It Football, I Will Watch It (Part 2)"), when yet another literary snafu was discovered by one of my diligent (and grammatically gifted) readers. In the "Stay Off The Sidewalk" entry, I referred to a wall of desk chairs that I discovered at IKEA as "the mother load," when they should have been referred to as "the mother lode." The latter expression would accurately depict them as a major or profitable source of chairs, while the former would incorrectly tab them as a pile of chairs that one would expect a mother to carry. There may be a mother out there who could carry all of those chairs, but I wouldn't want her to, and I wasn't implying that she should try. A brief educational note on the heels of this second error: while both this error and the 'birth v. berth' error were reported to me as homonym errors, my research on this matter reveals that in the strictest technical sense, they are not homonyms, but are actually homophones. According to dictionary.com, homonyms are words that are alike in spelling and pronunciation, but differ in meaning ('bear', meaning to carry, and 'bear', meaning a big furry thing that runs around the woods - or the arctic, depending on what kind we are talking about). Homophones, on the other hand, are words that sound alike, whether or not they are spelled the same ('pare' and 'pair'). What I find most interesting is that the term 'Homophone' could actually be considered a homonym ('homophone', a slang term referring to the phone located at your primary residence, and 'homophone', meaning whatever I wrote it means in the previous sentence.)
Anybody still there? If so, I commend your resilience. And you thought you were just going to get random pictures from Ibiza in today's entry.
When we last talked, I shared some of my outstanding birthday presents with The SportDork Nation. (You know you want a pair of those flip flops.) Shortly after publishing Tuesday's entry, I received yet another shipment of SportDork birthday presents - this time, from my sister Jules. When it comes to gift giving, Jules has earned the moniker "The Master," which is in recognition of her ability to identify and select only the gaudiest, most ridiculous gifts. The highest compliment I can pay to Jules' gift giving ability is that she typically gives me things that, before receiving them, I did not know existed. But I'm not talking about artifacts or rare items of considerable value - I'm talking about things that you can't believe anyone would a) think to make and b) take the time and effort to produce.
Well, once again, Jules out-did herself. It gives me great pleasure to announce that after our trip to Ibiza and receipt of my most recent birthday present, The SportDork Writing Center is now officially complete. Here is the top of my desk - where I draw my inspiration:
From left to right: The Florida Gators back-to-back NCAA Basketball Champions Christmas tree ornament - in the shape of a basketball. It's still in the box, because as my loyal readers know (see "Who's The Idiot With The Desk"), that's how the SportDork rolls. This ornament reminds me that just because I've put together a great entry on Tuesday doesn't mean I can't do it again on Friday. Thanks for the inspiration, Jules. Next, in the middle, we have the Buddha I bought in Ibiza. What better place to buy a Buddha - the symbol of a religion that believes that craving desire for the pleasure of the senses is the cause of suffering and therefore we must eliminate passion and desire - than in Ibiza? There are so many rich layers of irony in buying a Buddha in Ibiza that I just couldn't pass it up. Plus, as Mrs. SportDork will attest to, I'm a Buddha junkie. I can't stop buying them. I love 'em. I actually velcroed (not sure if that's a word) one that Jules got me (go figure) to the dashboard of my '83 Cadillac. Here is a close up of the one I got in Ibiza:
Sorry for the blur. Buddhas are fat, but surprisingly shifty. This one is for health and luck (I'm assuming good luck and good health, but I couldn't get the Spanish street-vendor to confirm. I don't think he understood the subtlety of my inquiry.)
Did you know that until a few years ago, I thought Budapest was in India? Was perfectly logical to me. Buddhism is an Indian religion that was founded in north India, so of course they'd have a city named Budapest. Then I found out it is in Hungary. I only found out because my sister went to Budapest on business, and I asked her how India was. I still find this very puzzling. Why would an Eastern-European country name one of their cities Budapest? They're not Buddhist, right? I think they just have the same fascination with little wooden Buddha's that I do. I'll let you know when Mrs. SportDork and I visit. That place could be the mother lode for Buddha's. (See how I did that?)
Moving on from the Buddha - because frankly, I could talk for days about Buddha's, but that's no fun for anybody - we have the 2006 Florida Gators NCAA Football Championship Christmas Ornament!! Thanks again, Jules. This has got to be the best ornament EVER:
Look at the ease with which the Gator hoists the crystal National Championship Trophy - at the same time as giving the "Number 1" sign with his left hand. I had no idea reptiles had that kind of dexterity. The best part of this ornament is the plaque at the base of his left leg. It actually has an inscription, but it is so small that you can only read it with a magnifying glass. This ornament also provides me great inspiration, but in a different way than the basketball ornament. This one reminds me, "People will spend their hard-earned money on ridiculous things. Your book might just sell after all. Keep writing." I have affectionately named my trio of motivational figures "The Three Amigos," even though it is highly improbable that such characters would ever forge a friendship. Not because of the Buddha - he's all about peace and love. It's the Gator I'm worried about. Anyway, I'm confident that they will take me to new heights.
Drawing great inspiration from the Three Amigos, I am now ready to present The Ibiza Chronicles. But before I do - How about that Michael Vick? I tried my best to let it go, but when a guy tests positive for marijuana after he has pleaded guilty to a felony, he deserves a shout-out. Well played, sir. You clearly find jail an intriguing place and want to ensure you get to spend as much time there as possible. Here's a link to the story:
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2007/football/nfl/09/26/vick.drug.test.ap/index.html
I'm just curious - how exactly does this happen? Did he come home from announcing his guilty plea and think, "Man, that was stressful. Where's the bong?" How do you not know that you're going to be drug tested? It's not that the crime itself is such a big deal - if a guy wants to enjoy a little kind bud every once in a while, so be it - it's the unbelievable lack of judgment. For God's sake, man - show some discretion!! At this point, I wouldn't be surprised to pull up ESPN on-line next week and find out that he got pulled over for a DUI on his way home from a strip club. What a train-wreck. And to think I took his public apology to heart.
And since it's Gator related, I don't think I can avoid a couple remarks on the Andrew "Don't Taser Me, Bro" Meyer incident that occurred at a University of Florida campus meeting with John Kerry a few weeks ago. First, here are a couple links to videos that show his Golden Globe-worthy antics at the microphone before it was cut off, as well as the ensuing chaos caused by Mr. Meyer, which culminates with said tasering. Shockingly (pun-intended), after the tasering he fully cooperates with law enforcement and exits the building in a calm and orderly manner, as law enforcement had requested him to do five minutes earlier. If I remember my undergraduate psychology class correctly, I believe that's what they call negative reinforcement. Sure seems to elicit the desired behavior in this case!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqAVvlyVbag
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CheY0jYXJjY
I will try and keep this short. What do you get when you mix a U.S. Senator and former presidential candidate, an overly dramatic journalism student who repeatedly resists arrest and the Florida Department of Law Enforcement? If you guessed, "A tasering?," you are correct!! I only have three words to express my feelings for the Florida Department of Law Enforcement: job well done. My only complaint is that they didn't let him stand up at the microphone for a few more minutes before removing him, because he was doing a great job of looking like a ranting fool without the assistance of law enforcement. What's interesting is that because his microphone was cut off and he was asked to leave (which ironically probably helped his cause because he was spiraling downhill quickly), there has been a lot of talk surrounding Mr. Meyer's right to express his viewpoints. But what I don't hear a lot of talk about is the fact that Senator Kerry, and the other individuals who attended the meeting, have the right to attend a meeting that is free from a disruptive, and potentially dangerous individual whose only interest was clearly to make a mockery of the entire proceeding and create a chaotic scene. I don't know - maybe I'm wrong. Maybe they should have pulled up a chair on-stage for Mr. Meyer so he could sit next to Sen. Kerry and shout his accusations - I mean, questions - at Kerry from a foot away. Go Gators!!!
So what about Ibiza? I knew I'd get there eventually. I can tell you this much - nobody got tasered.
The day of our departure, I started packing by assembling the most important item of all. You've seen the Intestinal Distress Sports Kit, as displayed in the "If They Call It Football, I Will Watch It (Part 2)" entry. But that was small potatoes. Now, I proudly present my patented Medical Emergency Vacation Kit:
As you can see from the picture above, the Medical Emergency Vacation Kit contains all of the intestinal staples of the Intestinal Distress Sports Kit, but expands its coverage to include remedies for a variety of other potentially vacation-debilitating illnesses. In addition to the week's supply of Prilosec, Immodium and Gas-X (regular (green) and maximum (red) strength) that are shown in the lower right hand corner, this kit kicks it up a notch with a variety of prescription drugs. Three different types of antibiotics (the other "Three Amigos") are on deck and poised to do battle with the toughest bacterial infections that foreign territories can dish out. Ambien is standing at attention to make sure that I am not doing the same at 3 am in Ibiza, and Zanaflex is there to relax the massive kink in my neck that I will get from sleeping in the same position all night because I was so knocked out by the Ambien. Allegra is a minor-leaguer, but let's face it - you never know when pollen will rear its ugly head. I'm not sure how the Chapstick got in there. I think it got jealous it was missing out on the party. All of these goodies, which, I should add, have been legally obtained through licensed medical professionals for the treatment of actual ailments, are placed in a one-gallon Ziploc bag which takes up roughly 75% of the room in my new "I'm a writer" messenger bag that comes on the plane with me. (You're nuts if you think I'm going to check that stuff.)
We had a 9:50 pm flight to Ibiza on Easy Jet, a popular low-cost European airline. And by "low-cost," I mean it was 14 GBP per person one-way from Gatwick to Ibiza. That's low cost. Of course, low cost comes with low frills. Mrs. SportDork and I had seen the Easy Jet check-in line snaking through the airport on multiple previous trips to Gatwick Airport. We were prepared for the worst. We got to the airport about two and a half hours early - about a half hour before check in opened - and braced ourselves for the long wait. I had even planned on taking a picture of the line for my SportDork readers. Here's what we saw when we got to the airport:
Is it wrong that I was disappointed? A situation like this always makes me nervous - like I must have missed something. I was convinced that we must have been at the Airport on the wrong day or that Easy Jet had suddenly shut down their operations, but Mrs. SportDork talked me down. We approached the desk and checked in for our flight without incident.
One of the other ways that Easy Jet keeps costs down is that they don't issue seat numbers. It is first come, first served. One would think that since we were one of the first groups to check-in, we would be assured of getting on the plane first. That's where you would be wrong. One of the endearing qualities of Gatwick Airport is that for many flights, they don't announce what terminal your flight will be leaving from until about ten minutes before it is scheduled to board. This results in a bizarre scene where most of the people in the airport spend their time staring at the flight update screens until their gate is displayed, and then they race to the terminal to get on the flight. Obviously, this behavior is exacerbated in the case of Easy Jet, because no one has an assigned seat, leaving those who checked in two hours before the flight on equal footing with those who checked in thirty minutes before the flight. Fortunately for the SportDorks, I had the foresight to purchase "Speedy Board," an Easy Jet option that allegedly guarantees you priority boarding in exchange for a small fee. I don't know why I thought Speedy Board would be some kind of high tech mechanism that would assure The SportDorks priority seating, but I have to say that it was a little bit of a let-down. When we got to the gate and showed the gate agent our boarding cards and itinerary, she took out a pen, wrote a big "SB" on our boarding passes, and told us to make sure we stood near the boarding door so we would be able to get on the plane first. That's it? Remind me to bring a pen with me to Gatwick next time. After muscling through the crowd and yelling "Speedy Board!" in the same tone that one might use to announce, "Federal Agents - Coming Through!," we were able to board the plane first, but I'm fairly confident it could have been accomplished without paying the 4 GBP per person online.
Would we make it to Ibiza? What seats would we choose on our flight and why? How many mini-bottles of vodka can one group of passengers drink on a two hour flight? I know I have left you with many unanswered questions in today's entry. I also realize that I have failed today in my promise to deliver much of the Ibiza Chronicles, and that you may be ready to see actual pictures of Ibiza. That said, I can assure you that as long as a) I haven't screwed up another homophone in today's entry, b) nobody else gets tasered at the University of Florida, and c) Michael Vick doesn't do something else moronic over the weekend (which I realize is highly likely), Tuesday's entry will be nothing but Ibiza. You have The SportDork's word!
I regret to inform the SportDork of another error. A common error, but a pet peeve of mine: the use of an apostrophe in an attempt to pluralize a proper noun. You have more than one Buddha, so you have several Buddhas. Not several Buddha's. Buddha's would be for the possession by your Buddha of something. Like "Buddha's neighbor on the writing desk is a handsome alligator." This grammatical error is most commonly seen when people refer to a family name. For example, you might hear "We invited the Blackmon's over for dinner." Wrong. It should be "We invited the Blackmons over for dinner."
I point this out not to mock or scold, but because it appears you want to be a pinnacle of grammatical and spelling superiority.
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You know, this will sound crazy, but I'm ok with that one. But it's not because I don't think it is an egregious error. It is every bit as serious as my homophone issues. This is a lame excuse, but I actually blame MS Word for this one. I can't believe I'm saying that, since I hate it when people blame spell check for getting "their" and "there" screwed up, but in this case it is true. Here's the issue: any time you don't put an apostrophe after a proper noun in Word, it flags it for spell/grammar check. I actually knew Word was wrong, but I got so tired of fighting with it over that issue that I finally just gave up. Now that I'm thinking about it, maybe it's even worse than the homophone errors, because I knew it was wrong, and yet I didn't change it. Is laziness worse than ignorance? I'll have to think about that one.
When did you have the Blackmons over for dinner?
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Spell check always tries to make me change "tortious" to "tortuous." Which would only serve to make opposing counsel laugh. Say it with me: "I am smarter than my computer. I am smarter than my computer. I am smarter than my computer."
"We invited the Blackmons over for dinner." Doesn't mean they actually showed up.....
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I know that I am smarter than my computer. The problem is that I am also lazier.
I hope they at least RSVP'd.
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