Why We Watch Soccer

There are many reasons to take the United States versus England way too seriously, but I am not taking it WAY too seriously. I'm only taking it TOO seriously. I don't have a soccer jersey, so I'm wearing a Montana State Cup T-shirt from 1998, and my boxers featuring Snoopy and Woodstock, because who or what is more American than Snoopy and Woodstock? I'm also wearing shorts and socks, so don't get the wrong image.

It is possible to push all sorts of nationalistic implications on top of the soccer; for instance, British politicians--Tories, naturally--are criticizing President Obama for going after BP. Never mind that BP, while being so good at extracting oil, apparently never spent any time considering how to prevent oil extraction in the case something went wrong.

Or one could talk about the Revolutionary War, and how no one expected the colonies to win that either. Of course, in those days, we had help from the French, and judging by France's tie with Uruguay yesterday, the French would be no help this time around.

Or one could talk about our national inferiority complex in terms of soccer. We want to belong. I, for instance, have always tried to talk about soccer a lot so that my friends from Britain would think I am pretty cool for a Yank.

All of these options would be stupid. The reason why I write about soccer, the reason why I look forward to these games so much, is to have fun despite the many problems in the world.

(I just saw a brilliant, funny skit on ABC featuring Will Ferrell, Mark Wahlberg, and Russell Brand, talking smack about the game. That's what I'm talking about. Faux-serious rivalry.)

Of course, all of those stupid options? They will be chosen, stupid or not.

Game on. All the pressure is on England to win. We have everything to gain.

A Day At The Edge Of The World, Part Two

When you look at the choppy expanse of the ocean, stretching past the horizon, undulations of blue and white and shifting shades of color, breakers crashing over rocks, a peregrine falcon circling and swooping along the face of the cliff, it is to be in touch with a sense of the sublime, regardless of your views on the existence of god or the marvels of a self-generated and self-sustaining universe.

Point Reyes combines this ocean boundary with wildflowers and the earthquake fence, where two sections of a fence that was once continuous but which straddled the fault line in 1906 are now 16 feet apart.

We are very lucky to have access to this landscape.

A Day At The Edge Of The World, Part One

The motto of the crew at the lifeboat station at Point Reyes was "Ye have to go out, but ye don't have to come in." It's an appropriately wry outlook for a life spent rescuing those caught by disaster where the land ends and the sea begins. A majority of the people who go to Point Reyes Seashore and crowd the parking lot for the lighthouse probably aren't thinking about that sort of encounter. They just think it is pretty, which it is.

For me, I've always wanted to go to the edge of a cliff to watch the ocean, but not that close to the edge, because I'm scared of heights. I still remember the day at when I was 6 or 7 and saw a pod of whales far out to sea. I've always wanted to see more whales. I haven't yet, but I will keep trying.

This last weekend was the first time I've been to Point Reyes. Rather than trying to describe it, I'm going to share some of my favorite pictures. It is not just about the sea; there were glorious wildflowers as well. I have so many pictures I really like that I'm going to split this into a couple entries.