The Deathtrap: An Ode to My 2014 Jeep Cherokee

All my life I've always wanted a Jeep.  My brother had two, my father had two, we used them for work, and I've driven and loved them all.  In April of 2014 I finally decided to spring for a new Jeep, a Jeep that, after all these years, I could call my own.  I saved up for all the bells and whistles (GPS, huge sun roof, heated, leather seats, etc).  It set me back a pretty penny, but I thought to myself: "Hey, it's a Jeep.  It'll keep me safe and last forever!".  So I dropped the money, signed the papers, and drove off the lot in a brand new 2014 Jeep Cherokee Limited.  All was well, until about four months into my ownership.

As I sit here writing this today, about a year and a half since I bought it, I curse the day I ever laid eyes on my Jeep.  I look at it now like an evil ex-wife who stole all my money, my time, my energy, and left me high and dry with a half-ass sorry note and a bunch of lawyer bills.  Essentially, that is exactly whats happening.  Grab some popcorn and get ready to feel my pain.

In the beginning of April, 2014 I purchased a brand new Jeep Cherokee Limited with all the accoutrements I wanted.  I was enthralled, ecstatic, utterly elated.  After all these years and hard work I finally had enough to purchase my dream vehicle.  I drove it off the lot and proceeded to drive it everywhere; even taking it on a cross country road trip.  Even then I noticed the transmission was a little uneven, but I told myself it was the new fancy 9-speed engine and didn't think much about it.  Upon my return from the trip was when my first engine light came on, and I noticed the transmission was a little more than uneven as my car began to sputter a lot.  Knowing it was a new car I only took it to Jeep dealers to be worked on.  I took it in, was informed it was "a computer issue" and that they updated it, changed the oil, and all was well.  Which was true for about a week or two.

One night while driving home from work on the Taconic State Parkway at about ten at night my Jeep freaked the hell out.  I lost power steering, I lost control of the gas, the windshield wipers went on, the lights flickered, and my dashboard lit up like the fucking 4th of July, minus any and all enjoyment.  Luckily it was pretty empty at that time of night so I was able to coast off the side of the highway and managed to restart the Jeep and, very, very, carefully get it home.  The next morning I took it to a "certified Jeep dealer" and, lo and behold, it was another computer problem.  So they updated it, changed the oil, and sent me on my merry way, again. 

Two weeks later, and this has happened ever since, my car sputters violently as I drive and shuts off randomly, and to reiterate, WHILE DRIVING IT.  Ever since then I've been taking it to "certified Jeep technicians" to diagnose (between a recall every other week it seems) this problem every time it happens.  So I decided to go to the source and call Chrysler, who opened a case on my Jeep and told me to take it in for service and that they would pay, or rather reimburse me, for the tests and my rental car.  When I took it they found out my Jeep was 3 qts low on oil and is burning it at a rate of about 1qt every 800 miles.  Allow me to repeat.  My brand new, 4 cylinder, 2.4 L engine, Jeep with it's magical synthetic oil that I was told I must use, that I was also told I would not have to change until every 5,000 to 7,000 miles (I was at just about 5,000 at this time), was almost 3 ENTIRE QUARTS LOW ON OIL.  That's half of what should be in there, and there was not a single indication that the oil was that low....well other than my car turning off mid drive, or so they said.  So they "fixed" it once again and sent me on my way, once again, only to have the same thing happen within two weeks of me leaving the dealer, once a-fucking-gain.  This time, however, I was driving down a windy road, at night, in the rain.  The car turned off out of nowhere and I careened off the road, managed to avoid a tree, and landed in a ditch full of boulders.  I blew a tire and destroyed my under carriage.

The next day I called Chrysler, again, to voice my concern and was forced to drive the car for another two weeks until I could get it into yet another "certified Jeep dealer".  Thankfully nothing happened between the time I called and the time I brought it in, but I was driving as little as possible.  Same song and dance, we'll pay for this we'll pay for that, just send us the receipts.  For a week and a half they had my car, found the power steering column was bad (probably from flying off the road), there was ANOTHER recall that had to be addressed, and nothing about the oil.  Since my car is now out of warranty, the power steering column was going to run me $2,000 but they "good willed" it to me and only charged me a $150 deductible. OK, I say to myself, I'm going to get reimbursed for this anyway. I asked Chrysler if they could cover a car payment for me as well considering all the time the car has spent in the shop and all the work I missed with all the appointments and things I had to do for them to "solve" the issue, and they said "Sure, we'll see what we can do."  And since the oil issue (the main issue I brought it in) was somehow overlooked, I now have to take the car in every 500 miles so they can check the oil and see if they can actually, for real this time, fix the problem.  Chrysler's solution: Drive the car around a lot, even though its obviously unsafe, so we can test the oil consumption.   In my head all I hear is: "Drive the car around so hopefully you crash and kill yourself and since there's no indication in the computer as to why the car shuts off we will chalk it up to driver error when they scrape you off the road and close the case instead of doing the responsible and human thing and give you a car that wont kill you or anyone else on the road."

After all was said and done I had just short of $2,000 tied up in limbo.  When I went to close my case, with all my receipts and visits all well documented I was told that I would not be able to be reimbursed for everything in full.  Their reasoning: Any reimbursements that they offer are out of the goodness of their hearts since my deathtrap is out of warranty.  Mind you, once again, I have been bringing my Jeep into the "certified Jeep dealer" for this problem since there were 7,000 miles on it; so because of their lack of doing anything remotely fucking helpful, it has now become my fault that they couldn't find the problem within the warranty time.  Brilliant, Chrysler.  Oh and not to mention they comically suggested that they would extend my warranty for me in lieu of reimbursement.  Ha fucking ha; there's no way I'm taking adding insult to injury over money I was promised.

I wish I could say I was surprised, but from how things were handled up to this point, it was a less surprising feeling and more like a beyond pissed rage.  Now, I work in service, I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of an annoyed customer, whether its your fault or not.  So I always started my calls with "Listen, I know it's not you, but you're going to hear it.", and off I would go expressing my distaste for the situation, trying to keep it as cordial as possible.  Suppressing an F-bomb isn't easy for me on a normal day, especially when I'm that aggravated, but I did my best out of respect for the poor people on the other end of the line who are bound by the tyranny of Chrysler, as they all repeated the same lines from the script they're undoubtedly reading from.  I kept going from apologizing for my bluntness to telling them that their bosses are huge, money grubbing, assholes who would rather put their customers lives in danger than shell out some money for a car that could potentially kill one or several people, in the Holiday Season no less.

At the writing of this article I'm still forced to drive around Christine (Stephen King reference right there, if you missed it) and I have the Rosary on repeat on my MP3 as well as St. Christopher imagery adorning my car.  I guess the only positives that came out of this situation are I finally named my car and I found God and I pray he/she can guide me on my journey and keep Christine at bay.  All joking aside, Chrysler is literally making me drive a deathtrap just so they can be sure that there's something wrong with it.  I work in heating and air conditioning.  What they're doing is the equivalent of us telling a customer with a gas leak to run the boiler until something blows up, so then we'll know for sure that there is a problem.  That's moronic, irresponsible, and most importantly completely unsafe in every way.

Before I punch a hole in my computer screen I'm gonna wrap this up.  It's an ongoing ordeal and there will be a follow post when I get this resolved.  I will say this though: I am NOT going to be taken advantage of by a bunch of scumbags in business suits.  I will not lay down and eat this shit sandwich no matter how hard they try to brush me under the rug.  And God forbid I get hurt in this Jeep dubbed Christine, I will drive it straight into the office (even if it's on a flatbed in a ball of mangled metal) of the Chrysler people and shove both sets of keys up someones ass...sideways.

Happy Chrismakwanzukah

Chrismakwanzukah: A term used by retailers to celebrate all three holidays: Christmas, Kwanza, and Hanukkah; thereby including most of demographics they are selling to.

For the past week or so my Facebook has been overloaded with the usual holiday fanfare: People complaining about the stores putting up Holiday decorations on top of the Halloween decorations, people complaining about big business taking the Christ out of Christmas in various ways, people complaining about people complaining about big business taking the Christ out of Christmas in various ways, and some kittens.  Through all the bullshit though, I found a common trend and the big holiday culprit of this season: Starbucks.

Let's talk about this seasons villain.  Starbucks changed their cups red to combat the evil political incorrectness and coddle the sensitive American public.  Hooray for you Starbucks, you get a trophy, and by today's standards in society EVERYONE gets a trophy because everyone is special and doesn't know how to handle disappointment, because in the real world it's all candy and sunshine and no one is ever let down by anything...I'm going off topic but this has to do with it.  In all honesty I really don't give two shits about this and you shouldn't either, it has absolutely no effect on us if their cups are red, purple, or adorned with Menorahs and Crucifixes.  Rarely can I spare a car payment to drink coffee there anyway, but it amazes me how, on both sides of the argument, people are sooooo upset Starbucks is pulling the same stunt at least one or two big companies have been pulling every year for the past decade or two.  

Oh...the outrage.  Oh...the humanity.  Oh...the soap boxes.

People are calling for boycotts and petitions and crying, but why, what does it really do that changes your day.  I boycott them normally because I don't usually have fifty bucks laying around for a thimble full of burnt coffee with a pound of sugar in it.  The people who think its a good idea will show support by buying from them, the people who don't will stop buying from them, and then nothing will change, literally nothing; at least on the consumer end of things.  I did see a video of one guy who was telling the baristas that his name was Merry Christmas so they had to write it on the cup, which is hilarious.  Agree or disagree, any way to stick it to big business is okay in my books.

So why do people care so much?  I don't recall a Christmas where I collected coffee cups to decorate my house.  Nor have I ever suffered any mental anguish because there was a Menorah painted on the window as I sipped my Cup o' Joe.  And I know for damn sure seeing religious or semi religious symbolism on display anywhere never caused my or anyone's head to explode.  Of all the thought to be put into it there really is no clear reason why it's a big deal to either side other than because people like to bitch and moan into the fray with the other bitchers (yes I just made bitchers a word, I'm an Enlgish major, I have the power) and moaners; the chorus of complainers gets louder every year.  It really wouldn't be that big of a deal if they didn't do it for the reason they did and then announce it like they're some leader of the "progressive" movement.  Wake the hell up people (coffee pun right there), we are all part of the only "progressive" movement in history that actually works in reverse.  Censorship, coddling, appeasement, and melodrama don't make for progression, it makes for bickering and lets the people pulling the strings take advantage of all the stupidity.  Appeasement didn't work during WWII and it will work just about as well today.

If you lose sleep over coffee cups then who wins? Not you.  If you get your way and have the symbols back on/removed from the cups, who wins?  Still not you.  Do you honestly think the CEO's of Starbucks give a flying fuck about any of this?  I'm sure they wrestle with their conscience as they lay out cash for their third private jet.  It's all free advertising, that's it.  Hell, just me saying their name as much as I did in this piece will probably boost their revenue in some way.  That's what everyone should be angry at, that they're taking advantage of all the bullshit and winning while the world squabbles.  That is Starbucks Chrismakwanzukah gift to everyone, causing grief and profiting from it.  Not because they can, but because we let them.  Don't you think it's time to stop being led around like fools, getting all up in arms about what some corporation decorates their cups with?  If you're answer is a firm no then stop reading.  But if its a yes, or even a maybe, how about this: Why not support local coffee shops?  Yeah, this isn't a revolutionary idea, but really, why not? Why not take your money into town and find the coffee shop with the hand painted murals by the local school kids, the one's that support local music, the one's where the money you spend stays within the community?  I would bet anything their coffee is ten times better than the mass produced stuff in any Starbucks.  Just this passed weekend the lady and I found out that the best coffee ever is located in town at a local shop and you can be damn sure we're gonna be going back there..a lot.  And instead of announcing their coffee cups outerwear for the holiday season, they will be announcing all the new cool flavors of coffee and food that they will be making available, because THAT'S how a business should be run, not by causing a frenzy with all the sheeple and collecting off of it.  C'mon people STAAHHHHPPP.

It's the holiday season, it's supposed to be happy, about giving, about being with those you love and hold dear.  Here we are fighting over "hot" items, pummeling each other to death, literally, for a discount TV, robbing the youth of all the possible joy they can experience during the season because we all of the sudden decided that other traditions are dangerous, like a holiday Red Scare.  Think about it; what message are we sending kids by barring these things from them.  What do you say? How do you explain to an innocent kid why things they're used to seeing and experiencing are no longer available to them?  Because a bunch of assholes decided they didn't like it anymore so everyone suffers?  That would be the honest answer, but you cant say that to a kid and expect them to understand, they haven't been exposed to the real world yet; why ruin it?  It's not like they have representatives of each religion handing out propaganda, trying to convert everyone who looks their way.  I think people just need something to cry about.

The area I grew up in was a big mix of Catholic and Jewish families.  Every year in elementary school we would ALL make Christmas decorations, spin the dreidel, learn about each others traditions and it was so much fun, especially at that young of an age.  No one was offended, no one felt imposed on, no one had a bad time, but then one day the Scouts weren't allowed to sell Christmas Wreaths at the school anymore and there were no more dreidel games.  Just like that it stopped and it was probably around the same time this PC age started picking up speed.  I would bet money that after all the fun we had in school was done and then everyone went home and told their parents, that was when the problems started; because like racism, intolerance is taught (YES IT'S INTOLERANCE), and it starts at home.  And yes, barring Santa from the mall, denying children the fun of playing Hanukkah games, trying to ignore the fact that other people don't all do the same thing you do, that's intolerance; and a big part of the backwards progressive age we're in right now.  The funniest part is the same people trying to put up a wall around anything and everything are the same assholes who are the loudest voices for "equality", and ALL of them are hypocrites.

As for the definition in the beginning, about the meaning of "Chrismakwanzukah".  Did you catch the running theme in all of this, other than idiocy?  It's money (*GASP*).  I know, keep seated, it's pretty unexpected.  The same retailers and businesses that are "progressing" are using the combination of names of the holidays they are "offended" by to label all the insanity and bullshit to make money off of the same people they're protecting from the "evils" of religious imagery.  Basically, they're laughing in our faces..and...WE...LET...THEM.  Hell, we pretty much encourage it.  Every time you go on social media and post something in support or against their schemes you are supporting them, every time you buy from them, you're telling them it's okay for them to manipulate you; every..damn...time.  Sure, it's hard to completely avoid big business since the small business and mom and pop shops are going under faster every day because of them, but lets start somewhere.  It won't happen overnight, but it can happen.

Not to be morbid, but think of slavery through the ages.  A big reason why slavery lasted as long as it did is because those in control kept those under control in the dark.  If they only knew the power THEY had, how much they outnumbered those with "power", they could have risen up and overthrown with little to no issue.  Now here we are, fully aware of the situation and fully able to do something, and we resort to social media to whine, post quotes and pictures and sit back like we accomplished something, all the while we only make the problem worse.  Wait a minute...Holy shit how did I end up here, I'm talking about slavery and it all started with drinking coffee from a red cup.  Before this turns into something else all together, I want to wrap it up on a high note.

Everything herein is valid.  Agree or disagree, the facts stand (facts used to be important when arguing, look up that definition if you don't believe me).  People, it's the holiday season.  It's Hanukkah, followed by Christmas, followed by Kwanzaa, and the only thing those all have in common is that they're about love, family, giving, and not being a miserable jerk for a few days out of your year.  Even if you celebrate none of them, it's still not a reason not be part of the joy that was, that can be again, what the holiday season is all about.  Stop fighting, stop complaining, stop murdering each other for electronics and toys, go to the core of the season and appreciate it for what it is, because no matter how hard anyone tries they will never rob the world of the goodness that comes from these days and the times surrounding them.  Let those in "power" mess around with designs and policing the fragile public if they feel the need to, it's not going to stop any time soon, so don't be part of it.  Don't even be part of the fight against it, just be part of the happy, of the good times, the laughing, smiling, the togetherness.  Relish in the joy of seeing someones face light up when you give them an unexpected gift or wish them a Happy Holiday, or Merry Christmas, or Happy Hanukkah or Kwanzaa.  One act of kindness this holiday season will go a lot further than any amount of internet preaching you can do, and those are the differences that matter.  Gandhi once said "Be the change you want to see in the world."  It's a simple and powerful statement, so start today. Don't be bitter, don't be resentful, start the change inside yourself and throw it out into the world tenfold.  Kiss under a mistletoe, donate to a charity, shovel your neighbors driveway without asking, do something nice despite what you see around you, BE THE CHANGE, you'll love it, I promise you.

After all that's been said, I beg you one last time to consider buying locally, whether its coffee or a candle or a box of cookies from a Scout troop, it will make a difference.  Put down your pitchforks and torches and don't be bothered by the petty nonsense.  Instead of leaving your family and friends on Thanksgiving to shop and wait in line, focus on the things that are actually important in the month to come; the very things you're leaving for a sale. I guess what I'm really asking is for everyone to take off the blinders and think about what matters, what really matters.  So to everyone reading this and everyone in general, I bid you all a Happy Holiday Season, a very Merry Christmas, a wonderfully Happy Hanukkah, and a warm and Happy Kwanzaa, and remember even the smallest change could be the start to something bigger.

Love Fool

Everyone who writes has to touch on the topic of love at least once, if not several dozen times. Whether it's in your diary/journal or in some sort of public forum, it's one of the main driving forces for a lot of people; it's a mix of pleasure and pain that almost all can relate to, even though that tumultuous sensation can never really be captured with words.  I know I've tried it in the past, to tackle the topic of love, and, lo and behold, the question of what exactly it is has popped into my head once again.

Firstly, I'm a hopeless romantic, always have been.  Few (very few) have been privy to it, but it's always been a part of who I am.  As far back as I can remember I devoured books (not the cheesy, sleazy kind but the fantasy adventure kind) saturated with all sorts of exotic romantic aspects; became lost in movie upon movie; even got a little too attached to lot of video game stories; each were rich with their own unique characters and romances. Based off all that, I designed my dream girl in my head, the one who would fulfill the fantasy.  I always forgot though, that it was never instant in the books, movies, and games, it always took work.  It took a fear, a vulnerability, a chance that one or both characters needed to take for it to become something, for it to last.  You didn't just walk into a dungeon and walk out with the princess.  We, or maybe it's just I, forget that in real life.  It's easy to get discouraged when things get hard, when your feelings are on the line, when you keep thinking there's so much else out there that you'll find that person who'll fit the fantasy without any trouble, that there's someone out there it'll "just work" with.  Yet at the same time, when nothing is at risk, when it's easy, when nothing has the potential to rip you out of your comfort zone and break you down, to make you look yourself in the mirror and reevaluate yourself, your life, your everything, is it really worth it?

To be in real, unabashed love is to bet it all on a chance and walk away a millionaire, so to speak.  It's the greatest feeling in the world; but then there's the out of comfort love, the love you hold onto after it's been loooooong gone or after your significant other did something reprehensible like cheat on, or steal from, you, yet you let them stick around; it's like throwing down a buck and walking away with two; it doesn't really do that much for you, does it?  The risk is gone because you already know they can and will hurt you, therefore the payoff is going to be minimal at best, and just enough to get by, and that's not fair to anyone.

The best way I've ever heard love described was recently, by one of my favorite writers Jamie Varon.  In her article "How To Keep Loving Someone" she said that "Love is being acutely aware of how quickly someone can ruin you."  Let me just say that that line was like a sucker punch to the gut. In one second my entire perfect world view of what love is was changed.

It wasn't a bad change, and I don't mean to be dramatic, but the change was significant.  It made so much sense. It made me realize the integral flaw in what my fantasy was: there lacked a looming possibility of it not working flawlessly, it was too perfect. There was no fear of letting go of any inhibition for the sake of someone else before yourself, it was a magic thing that just happened.  I thought of it as an instant connection that never faded, that never needed to be tweaked and analyzed.  The reality of love was nowhere near that, that was only a fantasy, and nothing else.  For the first time I thought about it more realistically.  I resolved that maybe love is the syncing of two people's most internal selves with each other where both are willing to risk that the other person could, at any moment, choose to back out. That maybe you needed to focus on yourself as much as the both of you to make it truly work.  That maybe to be one with another, you had to be one with yourself.  The funny thing is, I've heard it all before and paid it no mind, until I realized it was affecting my own relationships and well being.

I had a bad habit of putting my life on hold when getting involved with someone I ended up deeply caring about, trying to fit into my own derived theory of love.  I would go out of my way and bend over backwards to the point where I wasn't myself anymore, and a resentment would begin to build.  It happened again recently, but with this one, she called me out on it.  She's a smart one, this one; a keeper if you will.  Long story short we took some time to work on things, which is when I came to this conclusion.  In the time we took, I regained myself.  Not so much the bachelor lifestyle I was living prior to her, but the doing things for myself life style that I needed to keep sane, that I sacrificed because I thought it would make her life easier not worrying about me and the things I was involving myself in (don't get me wrong, there are still plenty of things I don't do because they just aren't conducive to being in a trusting relationship, but I'm better for not doing them anyway). I started staying home all the time, which is NOT good for me, but that's another story, and not doing things I would normally do.  That doesn't mean hooking up with other women, but eliminating any possibility to even be put in such a position, which in turn, eliminated quite a bit, but I okay'd it in my head because that's what love is, right?  Listen, I'm a big boy, I've never cheated and never would no matter what the temptation, but in my head I just thought that's what you're supposed to do in a relationship, all the while realizing, but discounting, that that shot my personal life to shit, and left me going stir crazy, only getting out momentarily at times too few and far between.  I felt myself dying on the inside and subsequently damaging what we had, which is far from my fantasy, so how the hell did it fit?  Sure there were other things on my end as well as hers, but this was my biggest issue, the thing I needed to figure out in order to get my head screwed on straight, to be me again.  And I'm happy to say I'm back, and we're rebuilding with the right foot forward this time.

The "finding of oneself" is a sappy, melodramatic, nauseating thing and I always hated hearing it, but I guess I did it; I had to.  At the chance of losing something amazing, I really buckled down, stopped being an asshole, and thought about things without my rose colored glasses.  After that was accomplished, though, I still kept thinking about what love is since it almost seemed brand new; like I was getting a second chance and I didn't want to fuck it up. The first thing that clicked was the reason why I held on so hard to my fantasy; because it worked before...in high school.  You remember high school, the first love, the puppy dog phase, where you had your kids names picked out ten minutes after the first kiss.  Also, that was the reason why that relationship ultimately failed: because the fantasy stuck.  There was little to no evolution of the relationship, of the love, it was quite the opposite, it broke things down.  It wasn't terrible, but over time it wasn't what it used to be, it was just comfort because we were both scared to be on our own after almost four years, and although the relationship didn't change, we, as people, definitely did. So I spent the next five years loveless, not searching, just playing, never giving it much thought, until recently, and here I sit.

Being older, wiser (debatable) it's plain as day now; how love undoubtedly changes with time, maturity, circumstance. How love is different from one to the next.  That I love the girl I'm with in the same capacity as always, but differently than others, with a different intensity, because she's different and so am I since my last foray into the amour.  All that being said, I really cant answer the question of what love is, because there is no one answer.  And since there really isn't a textbook definition of love, how can you really put it into words?

GIVE ME FOOTBALL OR GIVE ME DEATH!!!

I am a New York Football Giants Fan.

As I write this I'm shaking from all the booze and greasy shit food I consumed yesterday slowly working its way out of my system, as I have most Mondays since football season started.

For those of you who understand, and are reading this in the same state I'm writing it, I know you feel my pain and appreciate the struggle.  For those of you who do not, who spent yesterday in Church or being productive human beings, I want to explain Sunday Funday to you, through the eyes of a die hard football fan.

The first day of football season is equivalent to Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, the birth of your first born child, what have you, to us fans.  It's a glorious, magical day when you don your favorite jersey and resume rituals that have laid dormant since that bitter, sad, last day of football in January (or February depending on how far your team made it...remember I'm a Giants fan, I'm used to the January pity party).  It's a game of inches, a game of pride, a game of screaming at the TV like a fucking lunatic for both the good and the bad.  For every person or group of people its different.  So here's what Sunday Funday is for myself and my football family, as we call ourselves.

For at least 16 weeks out of every year we try and take it easy on Saturday nights in order to fully enjoy our Sundays.  For years we've all been gathering at the same place, South Side Inn in our town (although recently renamed The Mahopac Inn, it's still the same home away from home on Sundays and will always be South Side to us, deal with it). One or two of us will get there early and procure our section, move together a handful of tables, and wait patiently for the family to trickle in.  Our family is a diverse group, made up of men and women, fans from all over the league, and every gathering is worth it's weight in liquid gold.  The bar knows us, they know what to expect, they know we will be the loudest, most disruptive, and most fun group of assholes in jerseys at the bar on Sunday.  About halfway into the first quarter almost everyone is there and the insanity begins.

From the first kickoff to the end of the last game the bar air is filled with a chorus of four letter words and screaming, high fives and clapping, the clinking of glasses, slamming of tables, an occasional chair gets tossed (Rachel, I'm looking at you on this one), friendly and not so friendly shit talking, and the blaring commentary of the announcers; it's the unmistakable mating call of the football fan.  Every game we go hard, we milk every minute for as much as we can.  We average a pitcher a quarter, if the Giants are doing well, we'll take a shot or two, if they are doing shitty, a shot or two, if the game is over, a shot or two, because reasons, a shot or two.  The wing and shrimp cocktail specials soak up the alcohol along with pretzels, burgers, the newly added, and fucking delicious, buffalo calamari. Keep your gourmet food and your organic bullshit, on Sunday Funday it's all about the loading up on as many calories and fried food as we can handle before heading home.

Our family is a good one, and a welcoming one.  Even if your an awful Cowboys fan, we will allow you sit with us, or maybe the better word is tolerate.  Also, I finally found a girlfriend who can hang and get into the psychosis that is our family's gathering, which she got to see in full swing yesterday. Instead of running out screaming, she joined in on the fuckery, it warmed my blue blooded little heart.  That being said there have been a plethora of significant others from everyone who make an appearance once and only once, some people just cant handle the awesomeness, and that's their loss.  I guess I can't really blame them, like I said it does get pretty crazy more often than not and it takes a special type of person to appreciate it. For example: the year we beat the 49er's and got into the Superbowl (where we beat the empire of evil, The Patriots, for the SECOND time) I jumped up, fists in the air in celebration and punched a running ceiling fan, spraying the bar with pieces of wood and dust that has probably been there since they opened.  Thankfully everyone was too happy to care and thought it was hilarious.  It hurt like a bitch but fuck it, that was an EPIC win, the victory shots numbed pain.  They completely removed it after that, one less fan moving around the smells of beer breath and wings, oh well;  RIP ceiling fan.

It's not just about football though, and what a lot of anti-sports fans fail to see is that its a reason to get together with a bunch of fun and awesome people for a few hours each week and enjoy each others company.  We call ourselves a family because deep down it really feels that way.  I'm talking years, people, years we've gathered to watch these games.  Sure some have come and gone, I was even absent for almost an entire season because other obligations; and I felt guilty every Sunday, like I missed my weekly visit to see my illegitimate child to let him know I'm here for him as I slipped him a twenty so he liked me better than his mom.  But seriously, it's part of who I am, it gives me something to look forward to every week, something to talk about, a place to go, a reason to get together with friends, and win or lose, we always have a blast.  I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.  South Side really is my home away from home on Sundays.  The only game we watch elsewhere is the Superbowl, where we all gather at my buddy Greg's house and watch the game and go completely fucking ape shit.  There's catering, beer, liquor and huge TV, and a goddamn awesome time.  We literally move the bar to his house for just that one game, a big part of our family tradition. A perfect way to wrap up the football season.  But, even though we move the party for a night, somehow we always end up stopping by South Side at the end of the game.  Whether half of us remember it or not we do it; for one last drink in our family's favorite retreat, one last hoorah, before we close the curtains on another season, and anxiously anticipate September, to start the fuckery all over again.

OK I think I'm going to cry just thinking about it...

GO GIANTS!!!