Jason Kendall Ray

It took me an hour and a half to read this article...

____Ray of Hope____
about Jason Kendall Ray
aka Rameses, the UNC mascot,
aka youth leader,
aka front man for Nine PM Traffic,
aka etc, etc, etc...

Recently,
as we were discussing how I believe some people I am close to look to me expecting to see pride or strength or success,
a friend asked me who it is that I look up to.

While one may expect some obvious well-known professionals,
directors or artists or writers,
I had never deeply considered the individuals that inspire me to be who I am.

I have never truly kept track of the people and their stories whom,
when I hear of or read of or meet or get to know them,
I am affected, moved, shaped, changed.

I think this record begins today
with Jason Kendall Ray.

Better Than Me

I love playing basketball with people who are better than me. They make me want to work harder to earn what I want. And playing ball with them makes me want to be a better player. They make me want to be more fit. They make me want to play more ball.

And not just basketball. I want to play more sports. It's good for me. It makes me feel healthier. It makes me feel confident and accomplished, at least in terms of sports.

Fun is healthy.

Battle Scar Make Me Proud

I like my shiner. It is too bad it is only temporary. It makes me feel tough. Sometimes I squint my eye just to make it hurt because it makes me feel tough. Behold, my battle scar.

Only Two Certainties

Right now there are only two certainties in my life.

One is the necessity for a glass of milk each morning. I simply cannot function properly if I do not drink a glass of milk when I wake up. It's like a cup of coffee. Or if I don't have it, I may as well have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

The other is basketball, which is the only extracurricular thing (aside from searching for employment) that I do with any regularity. Well I don't do basketball, I play it, but... it is... it gives me some kind of routine to attach on to for now. And it's good exercise to boot.

Basketball Vs. Face

I have the prettiest shiner. I earned it playing basketball on Tuesday when I caught a 230-pound elbow on the cheek.

You can barely see it under my right eye, but I can feel it.
And it - well, it barely hurts, and only when I squint...
or smile.

I read the news like it's my job.

Really. I wake up every morning and feel like my day cannot begin without checking up on the world. Perhaps I need to make sure it is taking good care of itself. Do I need to save the day? Or do I just need to know it is safe to go outside?

The News is like my 'Good Morning' cup of coffee... although I hate coffee. It's usually a glass of milk I can't go without. Erases that parched feeling, you know.

In the morning, I always look at (in this order):
** the "Headlines" RSS feed in the Firefox toolbar - usually links to BBC
** CNN.com for straight-to-the-point fact-based news
** NYTimes.com for creative stories I more enjoy reading - if I were biased this is all I would read
** ESPN.com for sports news obviously
Then I link or search to wherever the stories I have read might lead me. Whether it's some new technology, a big game recap, discoveries in space or on Mars (my favorite,) or - what I expect myself to keep up on - art/film news, I always seem to look for something extra to read... especially if what I've read so far seems boring. I wouldn't want to start my day off feeling like the world is going to be boring today.

Today's topics of interest:
** a plastic plane - well... mostly
** the case of the missing lake
** “The Case Against Perfection”
** homeruns bound for "the drink" - I have no idea where I got that from. "The drink?"
** and the biggest annual bicycle race in the world

Naturally I am drawn to the articles with the most photos, or sometimes the prettiest photos. Some of which are just photo essays. Others are friends' blogs, especially when they keep them up-to-date. And sometimes... sometimes it's the facebook that has the best photos of the day. I usually don't even read a story if there isn't at least one picture.

Movie trailers are good to keep up on. I have a special place in my heart for talking robots. Not the lame-ass fictional kind, but more realistic ones.

And often enough, I have a soft place.

Oh. And I always check the weather too. Ann Arbor's, not Westland's, regardless of where I'll be. Dangerously hot today...

I think I'll go play some basketball before I get back to job searching... and law fighting.

Am I Not Dreaming?

I have not had - or I don't remember having - a dream since the last time I played basketball... last Sunday, nearly a week ago.

Before then, I had been getting exercise pretty regularly, something intense every other day and at least stretching every day. I had also been dreaming. I wrote about a couple of them here. They were obviously decent vivid memorable dreams. But now I have been very busy sitting on my ass for five straight days. Mostly at the computer trying to get some photography favors done and feeling more and more pressured to find for work... (so they can get me outta the house. They could not want this more than I do.)

I cannot help but think that this lack of exercise is somehow related to my lack of dreams, and probably lack of imagination lately. But why? Is it simply because I haven't exercised and kept my body healthy? Is it because I've been cramming on things that "need" to get done, and stressing about them? Is it because I haven't played and released some of this stress? Is it because the blood circulating through my brain is stagnant?

I went swimming yesterday. I went out to the bar last night. Still I do not remember dreaming before I woke this morning. Maybe I need to do something that makes me sweat and think. Maybe I just really need to exercise both my body and my brain if I want to dream. From the sound of it, I think I do.

Basketball Vs. Fear

I leave my shoes - my basketball shoes that get damp with sweat - outside after I come home from an afternoon on the court. Sometimes I forget they are out there. Other times I just don't want to bring them in. My family appreciates this, though they've never had to realize how much so.

Today I went to get them. They were lying outside the garage door, and had been so since Saturday. In the shade, one sat on its sole with my ankle brace peaking out of it. The other rested on its side in the grass near some small bushes and the brick wall. As I leaned over to pick them up, I noticed a spider web... but no spider.

Where was this spider?, I wondered.
Could it have climbed in my shoe?
What kind of spider is it? Could it be poisonous? Aren't there poisonous spiders around here? Of course, there are, especially in summer. Remembering one of those stories - the ones your parents tell you when you're young to scare you into behaving or being safe - about how spiders, mostly Black Widows, like to hide in cool damp places in the summer, I was careful to pick up my shoes by their soles.

Stretching my arms out as far as I could push the shoes away from my body, I circled the house to the back patio, and threw them at the concrete. I picked one up by the toe and shook the brace out of it. No spider yet. I picked the other up. Still pushing the shoes away, I tried smacking them together.
I clicked their heels.
I banged the soles.
I turned each upside down smacking it against the concrete, but still no spider.

Determined to get it out of my shoe - or both shoes?! - I found a stick. The stick jabbed around for a minute in one shoe, then the other, and back to the other shoe for a moment. Still it came up with nothing.

The shoes are black on the outside with a white stripe, and black on the inside. They are very dark. I cannot see into the toe part of them.

I put the shoes inside the house at the front door. I think I'll wait an hour, or more, before I try sticking my feet in there.
But I'm ready to play basketball now.

...