Opening the Sixth Seal.

Perhaps you are aware that I am not a big football fan. This is a longstanding condition for me, and one that puts me at odds with the majority of Americans. Still it is not an essential discordance because (subjectively) I have a lot of opinions and preferences that nudge me well outside of the mainstream. So I likely wouldn't fixate on my avoidance of watching the NFL (and the college and high school equivalents) if I didn't live in Pittsburgh. Admitting that you don't care about the Steelers is like claiming you don't care about the availability of clean water. It's the kind of statement that invites a combination of disdain, disbelief, and/or outright confusion. I'm well used to it.

One might assume that such a position would be wholly inconvenient. But actually I have found it quite useful as a convenient excuse to screen people completely from my personal life. Whether or not there is common ground to be found elsewhere, our incompatibility is made quite obvious by my almost total lack of concern for the outcome of the preeminent Sunday sporting event. I use this like a defensive barrier, the way that others employ religion (or the lack of it) for similar reasons. I have become quite satisfied over the years with my lack of alignment with this group. It is only occasionally that it becomes any sort of social problem for me, and even in these cases a negotiation is quickly struck.

When the Steelers won the Super Bowl a few years ago, I was overwhelmed by a sense of disgust in humanity. I considered it personally offensive that Burghers would prioritize something that had so little real significance (at least to me). I didn't understand yet how indelibly the team's success was wrapped into the self-identity of its fan base, and (as an extension) the region. Like virtually everyone I have ever met, I'm sometimes willfully ignorant of others, and consumed with myself. I put myself above such "irrational" loyalties, and I suppose I even adopted a condescending attitude toward those that (to borrow a term from a good friend) bought into "the construct".

The truth is that I've come to reconsider my views. I haven't yet decided to actively participate in following this team... but I will admit to having rooted for the Steelers for the first time in my entire life. They represent something to many of my closest friends, and to shit on their love for the team seems flagrantly disrespectful. I want to see my city happy, and if this is what it takes... well then so be it. It doesn't hurt that I have a newfound esteem for individual members of the Rooney family, who unaccountably turned out to share my political leanings. I'll happily disclose that their relationship with Barack Obama over the past year has been something I've appreciated substantially.

When I told one Terrible Towel-wielding fanatic about my change-of heart vis-a-vis the Steeler Nation, he responded that my reason was perhaps the worst he had ever heard. Although I stand by the original justification, I decided that it might be time to expand my rationalizations. Here's what I came up with: each Super Bowl victory the Pittsburgh Steelers win earns them one ring. Each ring opens up another seal. I'm sure you can follow the logic from there. In the mythology of this region, one more victory (by the year 2012) will allow a transmutation of the consciousness along the Three Rivers. I see this in something other than apocalyptic terms. The playing field has been expanded infinitely.

Sunday Football?! On Serendipity?!

It would definitely come as a surprise to anyone who knows me that I did indeed make a point of watching the Pittsburgh Steeler game on Sunday. Did I suddenly discover a hidden joy in football? Have I decided that I don't have enough light entertainment in my life? Do I need yet another distraction? The answer to all of those questions is "no". I haven't had any revelations that compel me to direct my attention to sports on television. Sure, I remain open to playing games that might entail me to run around a bit, but I don't intend to shift my energies in any voyeuristic way. You won't catch me dropping the names of the "local" professional athletes anytime soon.

Of course I realize that explaining my lack of interest in the pigskin opens me to charges of hypocrisy. Yes, I have admitted to watching hockey in the past. I've even described my allegiance to a specific team, and have kept abreast of player transactions and salary cap management. Still the truth is that I haven't watched more than a few periods of the game over the last couple of years. I simply can't justify the expenditure of time any more. However, I do have an interest in keeping my "blue team-American male" card, so I make it a point to remain minimally knowledgeable about hockey. At least that way I can fall into conversation with strangers in bars if need be.

When I got a text message from a friend who owns an area restaurant inviting me to watch the Steelers/Patriots showdown on his new big-screen, I decided that it was worth the trip. After all, he promised that there would be food and libation provided gratis. I invited some guys that I knew were Steeler fans, and that had never been to my buddy's business before. I knew I'd get the opportunity to see a lot of people that I'm close with, but haven't seen in awhile. The stars were aligned... what can I say? I wasn't at all disappointed, as I did indeed see folks that I've been missing recently. Between the rounds the waitress brought by, and the spread of food laid out for the occasion, I was pretty happy.

I can't tell you what the final score was. I know that the home team won. I probably watched about three plays during the entire thing. At one point, some lumbering guy was breaking for the end zone in what looked like a slow motion replay. I guess there was a turnover of some kind. Everyone was happy, as if we had just won the war on terror. There was definitely a sense of camaraderie as one might expect whenever a room full of people are in accord about rooting for a particular side. I can understand folks getting swept away by that kind of energy, but if one steps back to take a clear look at the phenomenon, it becomes surreal very quickly. Why does anyone care what happens on that field?

One of my friends was taken aback by my professed reason for rooting for the Steelers after a virtual lifetime of disinterest. I told him that I was making an exception because the club's owner Dan Rooney had officially endorsed Barack Obama in the presidential election. He replied that

this was the single worst justification he had ever heard for caring about the team. I didn't press him to explain his opinion, but in retrospect I wish I had followed that up. After all, American sports are all about business. Why shouldn't I take whatever political positions they advocate into account? I'm pretty sure that if I were boycotting a company based upon practices I disagreed with, my friend would understand. So anyway... Go Steelers.

Paddles and Laughs.

It's remarkable how completely off-track I can get over a period of a week. I've built a lot of structure into my life, and make efforts to follow my routine with discipline and focus. Still one or two external factors can throw me, and the next thing I know I'm struggling with the basics. Such is the story of the last seven (or more) days. It started with the digestive malaise suffered by both Baby E. and I. I took off two days, alternating with M. Obviously his patterns differ from mine, and they aren't especially well known to me either. It was difficult for me to adapt to them. I was ready for a vacation, and when the holidays hit, I tried to take full advantage. Predictably this late-year cycle of observances carry with them their own traditions as well.

I spent a lot of time with a group of friends that are relatively new to me. There are challenges that come with getting to know new people, and I especially enjoy the novelty of engaging with them. It's fascinating to glimpse windows into personal histories and events that you have never been part of. Along with those discoveries comes an entire set of proclivities and interests that make up an individual. And then an entirely new dimension of association slowly develops, and you begin to form an understanding of the qualities of a developing relationship. What was once a stranger, a mere anonymous human being, slowly comes into focus. Those are invaluable experiences that sometimes reinforce existing neural pathways, and at other times burn new ones.

So the celebrations pass and new connections are formed under circumstances that encourage the conviviality of loosened inhibitions and a vague sense of a broadened community. Along the way you may very well find yourself doing things you had not anticipated. I went to a comedy show at Garfield Artworks, and supported the art of a new friend. I watched other folks performing for the sake of doing the thing they love. The conditions of the event did not suggest the pursuit of glory or adulation, but instead an intense commitment to participating in something altogether chosen, rather than required. They gave out free cupcakes. The audience voluntarily offered itself to the whims of the comedians on-stage. Fascinating.

And then a couple of nights ago I played a sport I hadn't even known existed- paddle tennis. The game has its roots in lower Manhattan, where an Episcopalian minister named Frank Peer Beal wanted to come up with new recreational activities for neighborhood children. He convinced the Parks and Recreations Department to erect courts in Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village (1915). Paddle Tennis was played with a de-pressurized tennis ball and a solid wooden racquet. Unlike regular tennis, serves are traditionally delivered underhand, the net is lower, and the court smaller. The fence surrounding the play is like chicken wire, and you can play the ball legally off its walls. It is most often played in doubles.

Technically the version that I tried was "platform tennis", which was invented in 1928 in Scarsdale, NY by James Cogswell and Fessenden Blanchard. Instead of being constructed on typical materials, its base is a raised platform made from corrugated aluminum. Underneath its surface is a heating mechanism that allows all-weather play. The heat melts any ice on the court and dries condensation. Because of this unique feature, the traditional season lasts from Fall through Winter. It's a game that emphasizes ball placement over sheer strength and speed. Still it gives you a pretty good workout, especially if you start at 10:45 on a Saturday night. It was at once frustrating and fun, and an altogether unexpected holiday diversion.

The Competitive Spirit.

Sometime within the last several years I gradually came to an informal resolution to minimize competition in my life. Obviously I understand that I live in a society driven by a tradition of competitiveness, and that it's impossible to entirely avoid- but I just wanted to tamp down my natural competitive drive. I don't know whether it's some sort of genetically inherited trait, or whether I picked it up somehow during my upbringing. But the fact is that I always want to win at everything I participate in, and I have a history of getting distraught when I lose. It's a trait that I find fairly unattractive whenever I am objective enough to catch a glimpse of it. On top of that, I realize that I no longer enjoy the stress that comes with wanting so badly to win.

So I quit participating in the activity that carried the most personal baggage for me. When I was a kid, my father and brother played a lot of chess together. They are both highly analytical people, and that trait along with the benefit of age made them virtually unbeatable for me. It bothered me that I couldn't win, so I gave up trying to learn the game. In my thirties I started playing again, and continued to do so for several years. But there came a crucial point when I realized that I couldn't hang with a certain level of player. I had reached a plateau that I couldn't transcend without a significant commitment to studying the game. And I wondered why that bothered me. I couldn't just relax and continue losing.

When I decided to stop playing chess, I extended my resolve to anything with a clearly defined winner and loser. I started thinking about the philosophical ramifications of those terms. I wanted to broaden myself and become more balanced. There were a lot of things that I was decent at that I only really liked participating in if won- Scrabble, darts, pool, team sports, etc. I just refused to engage in any of those contests. I threw my energy into creation and self-expression instead. I even tried to excise any voyeuristic forms of competition. This wasn't much of a sacrifice since I only watched one sport. But I even stopped following hockey for a year (which was easy because the season was canceled due to a player's strike).

For the most part I have been happy with my new focus. I have an improved self-regard, and feel like I've become a more nuanced and patient person. I came to the realization that any satisfaction I ever got from winning only lasted to the next time I lost at something. That's an extremely frustrating way to live. Now I'm more concerned with self-actualization. Yet I still have moments when I realize that my competitive spirit has not entirely disappeared. I throw myself at challenges as if beating them is more important than engaging in the process of confronting them. However, it's becoming more clear to me that life is more about the journey than the attainment of any specific objective.

Once in awhile I give in, and try to have a sense of humor about my attitude. Last night I played soccer, which is a sport for which I lack the necessary experience and ability to excel. Because my expectations are so low, I don't suffer much due to my lackluster performance. It was actually a lot of fun because no one cared who won. I could honestly appreciate the play of my teammates and my "opponents". Still there was a part of me that wanted to keep score, and to root for my side to prevail. Old habits evidently die hard. This point was further advanced when I beat all of my friends at ping-pong at the bar after soccer. I was crowing and strutting like a bantam rooster. It was self-parody, which always seems to contain a seed of inconvenient truth.

Act as if you wanted to stay forever.

Like most people, I generally find myself socializing with people that are interested in the same things as me. For that reason it's easy to lose perspective on the broader issues around town. I had a chance to sit down with a couple of work colleagues the other night after seeing a great music performance. We got talking about the cultural strengths and weaknesses of Pittsburgh. We all agreed that there's a certain provincialism that prevails in town. Anybody who has lived here for more than a year realizes just how insulated 'Burghers get within their own neighborhoods. You'd think that crossing a bridge was a death-defying act. It's easy to believe that you have the finger on the city's pulse without even leaving your block. But that's a mistake.

As much whining as I hear among my artist friends, there's very little understanding of what other folks in Pittsburgh go through. We may lament that there are only 50-100 collectors in the entire city, yet we gloss over the fact that art events are generally well attended. This point was brought home to me in my discussion with my colleagues. One of them is a musician in a band that has been playing around town for years. As he is also involved in the visual arts, he is in a good position to compare and contrast milieus. He estimates that the art community is a full four years ahead of the music community in terms of involvement and promotion. Simply go out to almost any local band's show, and you'll confirm his contention.

It's really a shame that we can't get our act together and build a broader cultural scene. I'm as much to blame as anyone else, as I rarely socialize with musicians (let alone dancers, theater actors, etc.). Hell, I hardly ever go out to see local music anymore. I'm not exempting myself from criticism. But I'd be likely to do so if an event married local artists to musicians. Remember how much fun the FLUX series was? That was the best example of what I'm talking about. What happened to that? Was it only last year that they returned with a FLUX in Braddock, and plans to hold three each year? I haven't heard anything lately from the organizers. If anyone has any information on it, please chime in with a comment.

We still have the Three Rivers Arts Festival. Yet that mostly appeals to mainstream suburban tourists. They want to come downtown, buy a hot dog and a Coors Light draft, look at crafts, and see a national act. How many of them even know that there's a juried show of regional artists? How many of them care? No... I'm talking about more grassroots efforts. As much as I slag the Cultural Trust, I have to give them credit- at least for the SPACE Gallery downtown. Not only do they show Pittsburgh artists, but they often have a local band or deejay playing at their openings. There are also a few bars and venues that make an effort- check out the Garfield Artworks and the Brillo Box along Penn Avenue, for example. These places seem to "get it".

Maybe there aren't a lot of people in Western Pennsylvania that know that culture extends beyond sports. There's no lack of enthusiasm for the Steelers, the Penguins, and the Pirates (well, perhaps I'm stretching the case a bit with the Bucs). Still, what are we supposed to do, as fans of music and the arts? We can continue to sit around and complain about how Pittsburgh is a third rate city. Or we can get involved. You don't have to join a band, or make artwork yourself. It's a good start just to go out and participate in enjoying it. Tell your friends about cool things that are going on. Start a blog to publicize happenings. After awhile you might be inspired to organize something yourself. If you are going to stay in Pittsburgh, you might as well try to make it a place where you'd want to live.

Biting Off a Thick Chunk of Obvious.

Indulgence is a strange thing. It has addictive properties that sneak up on you, especially if you grow up with means in the United States. In third world nations citizens rarely get to indulge themselves- so it's likely such a practice would be entirely a conscious decision. You'd have to save up for weeks for something that we in America take for granted. Certainly you wouldn't have to worry about becoming addicted. To actually get addicted to one of the things we use too much of, it would require effort similar to holding down a full-time job. The problem is that much of the world's population already has to work overtime just to acquire the basic necessities. Even then they often fall short.

So what sort of things do our citizens overindulge in? Well, we definitely use more than our share of the world's nonrenewable energy resources. If you spend five minutes on the net, you can find some reasonable estimates. We make up about 3% of the Earth's population, and use about 25% of the energy. That shouldn't be a surprise. Take a jaunt on the US Highway system, and head out to the exurbs. You'll see that a majority of the vehicles on the road are minivans and SUV's. Many of these drivers will justify their extravagance by explaining that they want to keep their kids safe. Even if you do an analysis of the safety ratings, and their particular model performs well- it's beside the point. Because 9 out of 10 drivers that you pass are riding alone.

Of course we find ways of wasting energy at home too. We leave lights on in rooms we aren't currently occupying. The television emits its mind-numbing waves even as we fall asleep on the couch. In Winter we heat our homes all day, even at the times when everyone is at work or school. Folks turn on their central A/C as soon as the first drops of sweat bead at the crests of their brows. People get in their cars and drive 300 yards to the corner store. And other energy-consuming resources get wasted as well. Homeowners water their lawns, and then expend more electric units mowing them. Food is prepared one portion at a time, and packaged in layers of plastic and cardboard. Most of the food itself is made from corn- the most inefficient crop there is.

We also divert our resources into meaningless contests of sport. Instead of participating directly, we do so from at least one remove. This is merely another indulgence. If sports aren't our thing, we while away our leisure hours shopping for unnecessary items. There must surely be more collectors in the US than in any other country. We collect everything- sports memorabilia, porcelain trinkets, guns, holiday decorations, fashions, video games, dolls, trophies... pretty much anything we can stow in our cars and fit in our living spaces. Sometimes we even exceed our physical limitations, and rent lockers or other storage capacity for the overflow. Imagine how all of this excess is perceived abroad.

Or don't worry about it. Because that's another one of our indulgences. We have an infinite amount of justifications for our greed. In fact we are told that "greed is good". Consumption is next to Godliness. It's the American Way. This sounds like satire, but it's difficult to overstate the role that indulgence plays in our society. Consider this with me as I try to digest the donuts, corn chips, Coca-Cola, meat sticks, fried chicken and buffalo chicken dip I consumed today (before noon)- if we stop indulging ourselves our economy will enter a crisis. Capitalism requires perpetual growth, which requires increased consumption. No wonder concepts like 'sustainability' are so roundly rejected. It is indeed a threat to the system. Quit thinking about it.

Youth and the Cult of Competition.

I heard on the news this morning that the top American figure skater is not allowed to compete in the 2008 world championships in Sweden. Mirai Nagasu is a 14-year old from California, and has already proven herself to be one of the BEST at her sport by winning the US National Championship in St. Paul, Minnesota. Although she qualifies for the senior level here in her home-country, she is still considered a 'junior' worldwide. So she'll have to put the greater glory on hold for another year. For some reason, the rest of the world doesn't seem to want to embrace the US agenda of producing the youngest elite athletes. Are other countries simply proving themselves to be the "nanny states" that Americans regularly accuse them of being, or is there a valid reason to encourage patience in our children?

It's not uncommon here in the States for parents to sign their kids up for a competitive sport at age 5 or 6. After all, if the young ones are going to eventually become the very best, then they need to start early. At stake are limited college scholarships and even more rare slots in the pro ranks. For some people the goal of winning eventually eclipses all of the other reasons for participating in sports. The overzealous father who screams from the sidelines at the coach or referees is now a cliche. There is a quality of desperation in the expectations such parents have for the performance of their offspring. It really is as if they are trying to live through their kids. Projecting one's own inner dreams on one's brood can be more than just creepy- it can actually be physically harmful to the child.

The nature of childhood is development. Growth during this initial period of one's life can set the tone for adult health. Putting young people at risk for serious injuries that may affect them for the rest of their lives does not seem especially prudent. There is much evidence that intense physical conditioning (even without injury) can stunt growth. That's because nutrients and energy that would ordinarily be used for bone development is diverted to the muscles. Additionally, unnatural amounts of chemicals produced in the process of working out can interfere with the natural levels of hormones associated with nascent maturity. Have you ever wondered why so many short adults were intense wrestlers or gymnasts in their youths?

Aside from whatever physical maturation problems can arise from a hyper-competitive drive, there are psychological concerns that must be taken into account. No matter how good your little one ever gets at a sport, there is always someone better. If self-worth is determined by rank, then one learns to never be satisfied. While perpetual dissatisfaction is actually encouraged as a positive value in American culture, it can be devastating to one's perception of "quality of life". Do you really want to teach your son or daughter that they can never be quite good enough? By putting an inordinate emphasis on the competitive quality of sports, that's exactly what you are doing. And even if they do become elite, they will have to accept that time itself is against them. In many world-class athletic events, you are washed up by the time you are in your mid-20's (if not before).

Given the American way of approaching competitive athletics, I have absolutely no inclination to encourage my children to pursue such goals. Not only would I not want them to feel over-the-hill before they even reach full adulthood, but I also wouldn't want them looking back on their high school years as the "best times of their lives"- because that's simply pathetic. Additionally, I don't want to see them enter the cult of worship that makes watching televised sports a lifelong obsession. These athletes (professional or otherwise) are not heroes, at least not simply by virtue of them being the best at some conglomeration of physical feats. In most cases they are merely people who have such limited focus that they excel at a single thing. Apparently that's what passes for a role model in our narrow-minded society. It's a shame.

Performance Enhancement.

Today I had a delay before work, and had an opportunity to stop on my way and pick up some performance enhancing drugs at the local coffee chain. It's no secret that I am not a morning person. Every person who deals with me during the first half of the day is no doubt effected. I'd love to make caffeine a part of my everyday morning ritual, but unfortunately my digestive system can't bear up under the acid in standardly-brewed coffee. For some reason, espresso doesn't have the same ill effects on my stomach lining. Would that I could process that dark and bitter sludge the convenience stores serve up- that would make a lot of folks very happy. So anyway, there's a little extra treat for those in my presence today.

The whole idea of this legal stimulant makes me think a lot about the current hubbub affecting major league baseball. I wonder what would happen if employers throughout our nation suspended and/or fined their employees for chemically "enhancing" their job performance. I imagine there would probably be a revolution the likes of which our good old forefather Jefferson called for when he talked of the blood that nourishes the tree of liberty. It seems to me rather hypocritical to pick on these multimillionaire heroes basking in the public spotlight. Our society demands extremes- run faster, get stronger, and work harder. Is it really any surprise that professional sports figures look for that extra edge? There is so much (not the least of it huge sums of money) riding on the outcomes of these games.

I think it's important to remember that these contests are games. Yet at the same time, they serve a very crucial role in our particular society. They condition us for war. It may seem flippant to make a comparison between an amusement played with a ball, and the blood-drenched activities of war. Obviously warfare has a greater power to change lives permanently. But our sports obsession grounds young people in the concepts of militarism, and without sports I think it would be more difficult to conduct our special form of international diplomacy. How do we get our populace to understand the idea of "us versus them"? In what ways can we illuminate the importance of victory for its own sake and at any cost... or for no discernible purpose at all? For such answers- simply attend a high school football game on Friday night, or go over to your friend's house on any Sunday during Autumn or Winter.

Clearly then, if winning is the important thing... we must do everything we can to meet that goal. There used to be something called "good sportsmanship", which included elaborate structures and the threat of peer disapproval as a response to violations of this informal code. There also (not coincidentally) used to be "rules of engagement" in war. The time when "will to power" was tempered by such attitudes is long gone. The tragedies of the Twentieth Century made them obsolete. We have finally and completely accepted "total war", and this means the only acceptable outcome is victory at any cost. Try suggesting that our soldiers should limit their means for winning on the battlefield- you will risk being called a defeatist, or even worse- a traitor.

Given the current state of things- when I heard President Bush's comments on the George Mitchell report concerning doping among baseball players, I was appalled by the (admittedly customary) hypocrisy. Dubya's actions in the War on Terror have not been mitigated by international law nor the guarantees of the Bill of Rights. He will go to any lengths to achieve his objectives (whatever they may actually be). If you think the US military would stop short of administering performance-enhancing drugs to our armed forces, then you are hopelessly naive. I know that the latest revelations about athletes "cheating" with steroids sets a bad example for our children, but there is nothing novel about this in the world of sports today... nor in the sphere of actual militarism. Of course (as usual) the mainstream media has missed the "real story". Our sports are a reflection of our nation's values, and unfortunately this entire controversy is woefully consistent with our times.