did you know it was legal to kill people in la grande, oregon?

First off, a small detail of Superbowl picks needs to be addressed. I keep getting asked about it, so here it is( I would have posted the pick in a Questions of the Weak, but that won't be until well after the game is over and it would be cheating on my part). Before I do this, I would like to say that I am torn about this pick as I am a lifelong AFC fan, so I must stay with the Steelers, but I have been both a former fan and foe of Seattle and I live in Washington state and feel a need to pull for them as they have never been to the Superbowl before. I want to be fair, and I would like to think that I have some kind of prognostication (love that word) ability..

Seattle 20 - Pittsburgh 13

That's how I see it. If I'm right, then I am leaving this writing thing to others and I am gambling full time. I don't really care too much who wins as I have lost my taste for football. I can watch about ten minutes of my beloved Chiefs play, but then I get bored and have to move on to other things. Perhaps it's because players my age are starting to think about retiring and that makes me feel old. I still love sports, but y love for sports is stronger in Boxing, Kansas Basketball and Futbol. In these sports you find more heart, passion, talent and heroes, as the term can be used here. Professional sports like baseball, football, basketball and hockey are filled with people that play for the money which is not why sports were invented. In fact, if you want to make me a fan of the "big four" sports, then make the contests a matter of life or death like the Aztecs used to do it. If you win, you live. You lose, we use your head as a ball. I'm pretty sure you would see more dedication and drive if the stakes were that high. Fewer members of the hall of fame, fewer older players, but a lot more dynamic, and thankful, athletes( I would be willing to believe their "I would like to thank god" comments under these circumstances).

Or, as I have said before, make the pay relative to your win-loss record. You win, you get paid. You lose, tough shit. AND NO ENDORSEMENT DEALS FOR ANYONE!!! I think we would see more genuine appreciation from all sides if this were the case. More players playing with injuries, more aggressive play, more spouse involvement and more emotion.

But before we can get to the big super Sunday holiday, I have to let you in what's going on with my little tour. It started in La Grande, Oregon a few nights ago and I must say that since that first show, everything has gotten a little twisted. People are scaring me and nature is taunting me. I am being pulled between insane women that claim that you can kill people and get away with it, and the majestic beauty of forgotten America. For those of you that don't know where that is, that's why it's forgotten.

It's a patch of land that is stuck between Pendleton, Oregon to the north and Las Vegas, Nevada to the south. It stretches from Salt Lake City, Utah to Redding, California. It's just a glorious, barren, mountainous, desert. Snow lives here, animals do not. Wind is made here, people die here. On any given day, this part of the country might see four people. I have been fortunate to have been one of those four people twice in my life.

It's a beauty that exists because it has been left alone. There are no fences, no buildings, no strip malls, and no plans for the "space" whatsoever. In America, that can only mean that economic terrorism hasn't been seen here and that makes it the Xanadu in my mind. It's fresh and clean and one of those spots on the earth that you can't believe went unnoticed. You feel like you might be one of a dozen people that has ever seen it in person.

I am driving through all this beauty and instead of taking it all in, I have the echoes of a rather insane woman from the night before, cackling in my head. She attended the show in La Grande and made a huge impression on me in a way that few women that haven't slept with me have ever done. There was barely twenty people at the show, but there could have been twenty thousand and I still would have noticed her. She had a laugh that would scare demons and she was filled with commentary about my act that had me afraid for my eternal soul. At some point she mentioned that she engaged in some sex act that involved vaseline and a wall mirror. Another comment had her climbing trees. But it was that laugh along with the comment about being able to kill someone and get away with it, that had me uneasy as I drove through the high desert.

I made it into Winnemucca, Nevada a few hours before show time and the memory of the night before prevented me from relaxing before the show. By the time the show started I was hoping that this performance would erase her memory and I could go on with my life. Sadly, this show wouldn't prove to be my salvation, instead it would only add to my misery.

I don't know this woman's name, I can only remember that she was wearing a coat that looked like it had been made of carpet remnants. Her voice was loud, but her comments were direct and much like the lady from the night before, I had her memory staining my mind for much of the next day. Her comments were somewhat coherent for a sloppy drunk, but the words had no logic, which makes them somewhat more dangerous. Everyone has heard a drunk say things that seem important but are really gibberish when you think about them.

"Hey, those pants are the kind of pants that people in 1973 wear. (long pause) I should know!"

It could make sense, if it was used in the right context, but not on it's own.

So I am sitting in a hotel in Medford, Oregon and I can't say that I remember any of the imagery that I passed on my way here. Instead of those glorious California pines, all I remember of the day is images of slimy mirrors and drunk old women.

Go Hawks. Please be the eraser that I so desperately need right now.