Freedom Of Speech
So something happened yesterday that really made me mad. Something that happened on Fannation, and to me. Well, really, to be more precise, to my user account. My first reaction was "whatever". Just do what they say. But as the morning wore on, a plan hatched in my mind. Because of my job duties, I had to be out on the road, and that's where some of my best blog ideas formulate. So I'm out driving around and the blog really begins to take shape. Paragraphs form, an outline populates my brain. Yes, this is the reaction I need to take in this instance, I think. This will get my point across. Why, I think to myself, I won't even put any pictures in this one. Nope just words and sentences. Hard-hitting stuff, and when people read it they will take me seriously. Oh yeah, I even came up with the title "Freedom of Speech". It was going to be good.
When I was 19 years old, for six weeks I lived in a homeless shelter. It wasn't really one of those harsh, inner-city shelters that you think about when you think of homeless shelters. However, it was certainly no Ritz-Carlton. Located in a Bay Area suburb, one might think it may be hardly a "shelter" at all, but it was. The town it was in was at that time at the end of the BART tracks (they have since extended past this city), so many an inner city hobo/bum/vagrant whatever you want to call them, would bum enough spare change to ride the BART out at night to stay there. So it had its moments. It's rough, scary, too much reality for one day moments. But in general, it felt pretty safe. Run out of a National Guard Amory, it was typical of the late 80's Reagan Era homeless digs. (Want to know my political leanings? Like my father, and like his father, the word Reagan is not uttered in our household unless first proceeded by the phrase "That ****". But I digress.) It was a big open room, something like a gymnasium, the bull room or revelry room or whatever the Guardsmen called it. One hundred sleeping pads laid out on the floor, a big partition with 20 or so cots for the women "guests". Another front part where dinner was served, a couple of tables for socializing, and benches set up around a 21-inch TV. Perhaps this scene is why Super Bowl XXIII stands out as the most memorable Super Bowl I have ever witnessed. Then again, maybe it was because it was just an incredible game.
NFL Training Camps
