David vs Goliath

This is an account of the battle between David and Goliath given in the book of Samuel, chapter 17 (more or less). In this tale Altenburg and the Qualcommites are facing off in battle against the Philistines on field 1 in the land of Mira Mesa.

Once a week for 12 weeks Goliath, the Amazon champion of the Philistines, comes out into the diamond shaped field of battle and steps into the place of honour referred to a 'short stop', and challenges all assembled to send out a soldier to fight her and her fellow Philistines and decide the outcome of the battle in a primitive combat that over the years has come to be known as 'softball'. But Altenburg and all the people are afraid. They cower in their dugouts and scrawl the letter 'L' many times in scorebook before the challenge has even been rejoined.

But on one fateful day a young accountant named David is present, wandering onto the field of battle while searching for an area upon which he could toss croquet balls at one another and daydream about a world in which there are no late accounting entries. He hears Goliath and hears also that Altenburg has promised to reward any man who will defeat the Philistine champion with a Tshirt and two comely young maidens with a personalized victory banner to sing his praises, and he is not afraid. Altenburg hears of David's words of confidence and sends for him, and David offers to fight the Philistines. Altenburg reluctantly agrees and offers his armour and weapons and knee high socks, which David declines in favor of his Easton single-wall bat, extra dura-hold grip, shining silver in the light, with but a small dent denoting battles past, and a host of spherical projectiles of the red dot variety.

David and Goliath confront one other, Goliath with her Under Armour body wrap boldly proclaiming 'Muscle Milk!' across her chest, and 'Balco Babe' on the backside, her harem of aging servant men in tow. David with only his humble club, and wits.. "And the Philistines cursed David by his gods", but David replies: "This day the softball gods will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down, and cut off your head; and I will give the dead bodies of the host of the Philistines this day to the birds of the air and to the wild beasts of the earth; that all the earth may know that there is a new champion in Mira Mesa, and that all this assembly may know that Yahweh saves not with sword and spear; for the battle is Yahweh's, and he will give you into our hand"….

...David was a quiet lad by nature, but when he did talk he tended a bit to the dramatic.

David's compatriots looked at one another quizzically and shuffled their feet in an embarrassed manner…..but they were emboldened by his words. And Altenburg took out the scorebook, and scrawled the lineup without feeling the urge to write down a single letter 'L'…instead the letter 'W' was foremost in his thoughts. Which unfortunately resulted 'Angewa' penciled in at RF, and 'Kewwy' at rover.

David then boldly stepped onto the field of battle to face off against his foes. His gaze was steady as he took full measure of Goliath. He winced but a bit as she smiled and gave him an inviting wink. David dispatched his trusty servant Randy onto the field to serve up his projectiles. He stretched his powerful accounting muscles and casually waved his club. The tension in the air was high as Randy served up the first projectile. David took a mighty swing as Goliath and her fellow Philistines couldn't help but step back onto their heels. Alas David's fury and power were beyond measure, but his aim kinda sucked. And so he did strike and kill his trusty servant Randy with the projectile.

"Dead ball" proclaimed the ump.

David was not to be deterred in his quest, and was not one given to sentimentality…so he had Randy dragged from the field of battle and propped up against a tree to be honored at a more convenient moment, and then he rejoined the battle. His other humble servant Nate was then sent out onto the field of battle (at spear point)….to take up where Randy had failed.

Nate bravely hurled a projectile toward David, and once again David uncoiled a mighty swing. But once again his aim was not true. The projectile flew on line with Goliath, but it passed well above her head. And she let loose with a mocking laugh as the sphere flew into the darkness….

….but Goliath had not taken into account David's profession as a purveyor of the numeric arts. She was not aware of his experience with redirection and creativity (also known as professional judgment). She was taken aback when the projectile sailed into the distance and struck her chariot (a brand new silver Honda Accord four door…a definite chick magnet if you will) with a resounding THUD! In her arrogant overconfidence she had parked her new chariot just beyond the battlefield wall. Goliath shrieked (almost like a girl) and fled toward her chariot stammering something about a $500 dollar deductible…

And thus ends the tale of David vs Goliath.

Prologue:

Goliath was never heard from again, her name only invoked late at night by mothers to put fear into the hearts of their young children. She abandoned her chariot which was salvaged by Nate, and used to ferry about special young ladies who were taken with his bravery.

The remaining Philistines were vanquished to the town of Sportsplex in the land of Poway.

In their haste to celebrate at the local tavern the Qualcommites forgot to retrieve the servant named Randy. He was left propped against the tree. The local constable mistook him for a drunkard and placed his body in lockup for several days. No one knows exactly what became of his remains, but to this day there are stories of his ghost streaking through field # 1 late at night screaming 'I can't believe those a$$holes forgot me!!!!'

Young 'AngeWa' punished ALtenburg greatly for his carelessness with letters. To make up for the slight she was named the 'new' ALtenburg (leader of the Qualcommites) and all rejoiced. AngeWa promptly named George Clooney the 'new' Carlos….alas George never actually attended a Qualcommite event, but AngeWa insisted he was there in spirit.

Young David went on to lead his people into many more battles, and it is rumored he was able to retire to a life of leisure replete with croquet balls and banner bearing maidens, with the kickbacks he received from the local chariot insurance salesman and chariot body shop owner….

One o f the simple pleasures in life that I enjoy....is discovering a song that I truley connect with. It doesn't happen often.

I hear many songs that I enjoy, and there are hundreds of songs on my iPod that I enjoy at times.

Every once in a while, a song comes along that fits me. A song that lifts my mood every time I hear it. A song that quickly goes to my 'most played' list on my iPod. A song that I play for the people I care about (usually to their annoyance).

I'm facinated by the factors that go into falling for a song. I'm certain that there is some connection between the rhythm and beat of a song, and some more base part of a persons makeup and nature. Some connection to your mothers heart beat, or the cadance of a the road in your parents car....perhaps the sound of the waves on the shore or your friends laughter. Something basic, something core. There must be some reason that certain beats draw the attention....and that when they are matched by the correct tone of voice, a certain melody and/or poetic lyrics... a song results that can increase your pulse and raise your energy level and lift your mood... every time you hear it....

I also find it interesting when I find a 'new' song that connects, and yet it really isn't a new song. In fact in many cases it is a very OLD song. I wonder if I should regret missing years of enjoying this song... because I wasn't aware. I wonder if I would have appreciated it as much if I had heard it when it first was released. If it is a song of any populatiry or which in any way reflects or defines a period in an artists history...I wonder if it would have the same impact if it was created today...

As I get older....I find my tastes are not maturing (much). If anything I am more and more accepting an immature connection to a basic sound that combines an intense beat with simple yet poetic lyrics.... The most recent example that I really, really like is a song by the Clash called 'Death or Glory'.

"Now every cheap hood strikes a bargain with the world,
Ends up making payments on a sofa or a girl.
Love 'n hate tattooed across the knuckles of his hands,
Hands that slap his kids around, 'cause they don't understand how,

Death or glory, becomes just another story.
Death or glory, becomes just another story.

'n every gimmick hungry yob digging gold from rock 'n roll,
Grabs the mike to tell us he'll die before he's sold,
But I believe in this and it's been tested by research,
He, who fucks nuns, will later join the church..."

I discovered it as a sound track to a YouTube video (YouTube is also something I've found myself really really liking) about a workout fad called 300 (something else I've found myself really really liking). It combines a sound from my youth (The Clash), with a beat that gets my heart beating and provides energy with a simple poetic theme that resonates. And I never knew it existed. I wonder what else is out there.

So I'm getting my caps replaced today.

I broke my two front teeth when I was very young. My mom likes to say 'pretending to be Evil Keneivel'. Actually I had seen some skateboarder on TV going through a cone course....and the back and forth looked fun. I didn't have any cones...or a skateboard. I had a bike and some rocks. So I set out the rocks on the street in front of our house around 8 ft apart and went through at a conservative pace. Easy....not fun. So I rode a ways up the hill and got the bike up to cruising speed. Made the first couple....then took out a rock with the front tire...mid swerve... and here comes the road. I remember sitting in the bathtub washing off the road rash...while spitting out pieces of tooth. It wasn't about glory or daredevil rushes... as much as it was about boredom, and really poor 8 year old judgement. This was way before putting a helmet or seat belt on your child occurred to anyone...so I guess I should feel lucky just to be here.

There was of course a downside. Your parents ever buy you shoes or pants a little (or a lot) too big so you would 'grow into them'? Try that concept on your two front teeth.

For someone that has never had a cavity I've spent an unfortunate amount of time in a dentist chair. First the Seabiscuit caps. Then a few years later one of the underlying teeth suffered further trama. I think my little brother smacked me in the mouth during one of our 'boys will be boys' moments. So I got a root canal. I don't recall all the specifics.... I do recall that getting a shot in the gums is zero fun, and that the numbing process includes hot pain shooting through your sinuses.... but after feeling the sensation of breathing through a semi exposed nerve in your tooth...and seeing the drill... there was no complaining about the shot. In fact after it was numb from the first one I was suggesting a few follow up shots and making toasts. Well maybe not... I do also recall a small wire file, and that the smell of buring enamel is not pleasant.

Eventually a second tooth had a similar issue and I enjoyed a replay of that experience.

Then when I was 18 my dentist informed me that I had 3 impacted wisdom teeth and they needed to come out. Relatively speaking this turned out to be a fairly enjoyable visit. The bad news was that I'd be left awake during the procedure, and impacted means they were pointing the wrong direction beneath the gum line, and there would be 'surgery' involved. The good news is the aenesthetic would not be 'local' in this case. More of the 'global' nature. So I was awake, but I was also exploring the more positive side of narcotics. I have no idea what they gave me, but the result was: I was fully awake, and watching the surgery in the googles worn by the oral surgeon. It involved cutting into my gums, drilling my wisdom teeth into small pieces, then picking the small bloody pieces out bit by bit. And I'm laying there thinking... 'wow this is kinda cool'. I think I kept trying to tell him I thought he missed a peice in the lower left...but I don't think he was in a chatty mood...and I likely wasn't able to really enunciate my thoughts at the time. I remember when it was over my dad and my best friend Kenyon each had an arm and walked me out to the waiting room. Kenyon was to drive me home (in my car). I wasn't too fond of Kenyon's driving so the fact that this seemed like a good idea shows how sad the situation was. I remember asking them why they were holding my arms. They let go and I abruptly sat down (not so much on purpose). My first experience that someone on drugs really shouldn't be sharing their opinions. My second was later that night when I insisted to my parents that I was fine to attend an Oktoberfest party with some buddies. My parents were fairly insistent that I spend some time on the couch and postpone my social schedule for a day or so. A few hours later as I was learning what pain medication and a few hours of swallowing blood do to a lightweight's stomach I was tending to appreciate their judgement. Oh my god!!! I have never suffered so much without lots of alcohol and a few really bad judgement calls involved.

Much later in my 30s I decided to get braces. I had some genetic issues to begin with, and the XL fakes caused the overbite to get worse. So I finally decided to address the situation. This process involved metal bands, spacers, rubber bands, 4 years of duration, and countless hours in a dentist chair. Apparently its more difficult to shuffle teeth around once they've been in place for a number of years. I do NOT recommend the adult brace experience. True you are more emotionally prepared, and diciplined to follow a treatment plan, but it is PAINFUL. Not physically painful...that was the one pleasant surprise. All the stories I had heard of vice like treatments and inability to eat on tightening day...were not the case for me. Technology had improved...I didn't feel like I had a mouth full of metal...the brackets were tooth colored, and tightening was only mildly unpleasant. But I was definitely a fish out of water. Waiting rooms full of Highlights magazine. Some of the moms were cute.... but its difficult to be suave seated in a dentist chair next to their 8 year old, drooling, speaking with a brace addled mumble, and discussing how consistently I applied rubber bands to my teeth. In an orthodontist office you don't get a 1 on 1 experience with the dentist. There are like 5 chairs lined up in a semi circle, and the dentist rolls his chair between patients. Cute assistants would take care of some busy work with you while you listened to an 8 year old on one side picking between a bright yellow or faded blue color for their retainer...and a 10 year old on the other side being talked off the ledge after finding out it would be yet another month before he gets the wire cut (assuming all goes well.... which it rarely did). The cute assistants were a distraction for a short time...till you realized you were on the 3rd generation of office staff, and your teeth still weren't straight...and depression set in....

Anyway...enough about that... let it suffice to say they are GONE FOREVER...yey! And I now wear my retainers on a fairly regular basis at night (and probably will forever). I actually sleep better with them now.

Which brings us to today. Back in the chair. Home again. I naively thought the dentist was going to spinkle my caps with some magical chemical that was going to gently disolve the adhesive and he could just pop out my caps. Turns out it involved a drill...and lots of 'locals'. A forgotten pleasure. On the bright side the dental assistant was again cute and friendly and her tenure lasted for the entire experience. It didn't get off to a good start. I bit her. She went to take an impression and told me to NOT bite down. In ALL my many hours in a chair...no one ever told me NOT to bite them before. I think it was just assumed. So when someone put something in my mouth...especially to take an impression.... the word 'bite' was usually mentioned in context of a vote for...rather than against. So I was predisposed to expect it and when I got it...I did it. I felt bad...but I can only hope I helped encourage her to communicate more clearly in the future... the dentist himself seemed to think it was funny...which leads me to believe that he thought it might be a training/communication issue as well. Anyway I was reminded of the shooting pain of a local, and the smell a drill makes, and how quickly a local wears off...and how stupid the question 'did you feel that' is shortly after you almost jump out of the seat when a drill is applied after a 30 minute discussion on what shade of whitish yellow your # 7 and # 9 teeth are....

But in 3 weeks I get shiney new caps. Height weight proportional one can hope... and if the cute assistant hasn't moved on in the meantime...so much the better.