What would RTH do?

That is the question.

If I were in a highschool yearbook, they would vote me most likely to die of a lynch mob. That does not prevent me from opening my mouth and serving a warm hearty cup of STFU to people who deserve it. My dark scathing humor will leave no matter of existence untouched. My innocence will touch your soul.

Welcome to a warped world turned inside out and upside down. All sorts of discretion advised.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

An American Odyssey - Part Ten

Part One
Part Two
Part Three 
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine

This is the final and concluding chapter of our American Odyssey. Who knows when our next travels will be. The next most promising trip on my horizon is my business school trip to Brazil (Rio and Sao Paolo) in January 2012. Until then there maybe some odd one off weekend trips or day trips within the United States. Over a lifetime there are plenty of other trips to be planned. There is a goal to visit every continent, and several other cross country US road trip over scenic routes. Some of those would have to be without family whose of the beaten path record is abysmal and sense of adventure lacking. Not to mention the issue of multiple bladder control.

Last year, I managed a week of heathen fasting to commemorate Ramadan. This year I've been hoping to up the ante and do the entire month of fasting. At this time chances are looking bleak though. After all I'm a heathen. It is pretty hard to come up with the motivation to do it with full due diligence. Moreover, it has been a brutal summer. With temperatures reaching 100+ up here in the frigid North. I'm not sure if I'm cut out for fasting in the wet hot August summers. I'm too weak for that. There are days with family and work commitments too. We will see what pans out.

Until then I am going to enjoy being in Madison, WI. It truly is one of the best places to live in. The more I travel, the more I realize how lucky we are to be living in this wonderful city. Madison is not a huge metropolis like Chicago or New York. It is a modest sized Midwestern city. But in terms of arts, entertainment, food and culture it is no less than any world city. To boot it boasts of a liberal and welcoming culture where people from all walks of life can come and live together. Other places may boast of diversity, but it truly comes together naturally in Madison, WI.

Madison combines metropolitan lifestyle with country living as well. You don't have to drive a few miles out of Madison to be in the American heartland, the landscape of dairy farms and cultivation fields. Here in Wisconsin everyone takes their blue collar, working class, farm worker, son of the soul roots and culture seriously. We appreciate the land of Wisconsin, the people of Wisconsin and the product of Wisconsin and we live and work to give back to Wisconsin. I've not seen any other "city" boast such active involvement and support in local farming, dairy and products.

I'm a born and bred Indian from Bombay, but my American Odyssey, as well as the journey of my adult life begins and ends in Madison (or at least so far)

An American Odyssey - Part Nine

Part One
Part Two
Part Three 
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight


Waking in Oklahoma City

We awoke to a dull and cloudy day in Oklahoma City. It still is kind of a beautiful city though. Even in the gray gloom that had descended upon the city, the city stood out magnificently with its unique charm. This is a city that truly captures the essence of old fashioned southern charm and new age urban development in a happy medium. I actually felt sad to be leaving Oklahoma City after just one night. I just wanted to be there  a little longer, to soak the ambiance in more. Alas, it was not to be.



The last breakfast

Well it definitely was not a last breakfast. There were plenty more breakfasts after it, and plenty more for years to come I hope. But it really felt like a penultimate last meal I was consuming. After all it was my last southern breakfast. Well probably not the last, but last for the time being at least. Who knows when the opportunity may come again.  It was my last opportunity to awake at a hotel in the south and pile my plate high with biscuits, eggs and sausage gravy. It breaks my heart to know that in order to savor those moments again, I will have to travel to the south and check in at a hotel that serves hot southern breakfast. Until then when the cravings overwhelm me, I shall have to wake up, get dressed and venture out to a joint that serves such far.


K for Kansas, K for Kow

Indians are delusional when they think that they are the only ones who worship the cow. In fact the whole world is a bit loony when they assume the cow is holy only to the Indians. Apparently, they even have some sort of cow belt in India. Well in the eighteen years that I lived there, I probably can count the few dozen cows I've seen. When I moved to the United States, I discovered that a whole lot of people across the world worship le cow. The only difference is that the Indians share a platonic bond with le cow, the reverence other people have for le cow is more visceral and driven of pure carnal and carnivorous human instincts.

For the longest time, I thought the holy shrine of le cow in the States was Wisconsin. After all we are America's dairyland. We take our cows pretty seriously in Wisconsin. Almost everywhere you go there is a cow representation of some sort a statue, a poster, a painting, a Spotted Cow deer or just cow on the menu. However, when you get to Kansas you realize that Wisconsin is just as delusional in its cow love like India.

For the long hours we drove in Kansas there were barely a few urban stretches and spots here and there that were cow free. Otherwise every bit of the state is just rolling lush carpets of green pastures dotted with an unlimited amount of cows. If you looked at the landscape from a height the cows would appear like a million stars against the night sky, except stars that move and moo and a night sky that is green. Even my grandmother who usually makes it a point to point out a field of cows or horses, eventually gave up figuring it was an endless field of cows. Idaho grows potatoes, Iowa grows corn, seems like Kansas sprouts cows from its earth.

In the few patches that were cow free there were odd looking pumps placed all over that slowly churned up and down in a steady rhythm. We wondered what these pumps were drilling for. On the surface they looked like water pumps, but usually one or two in the field suffices. Later we discovered that these were oil pumps drilling into the depths of Kansas for Texas tea,

Cows and black gold, what do you make of that. Everything is big in Texas, but it looks like Kansas can have a chicken fried steak in crude oil and eat it too. In my book Kansas pwns Texas. Nuff said.


Toto, We're not in Kansas anymore

I'll confess. The only reason I planned the second leg of our route through Kansas simply because I wanted to say that. Call me a book nerd, but I like to do stuff like that. If feasible, I like to include literary references, movie references or other nerd like stuff in our travels. When we went to London, we made it a point to visit Platform 9 & 3/4 to satiate our Harry Potter mania. We even went to Baker street to the bank that fictionally is the home of Sherlock Holmes and we passed by the Sherlock Holmes pub popularized by stage actors like Basil Rathbone. We would have gone in for a few pints if we were not due back home to relatives.

We had lunch in Missouri close to Kansas City. After a week with our family we were frustrated and argumentative. That meant we were not relying on trip advisor for directions to a delicious gourmet meal or a highly rated diner or dive. Essentially when frustrated with the drive, we pulled off the highway and looked for a fast food place where we would fancy eating. McDonalds and most other cliche places were already ruled out. Eventually we settled for Waffle House since we do not have one in our neck of the woods.

Our server was a nice Puerto Rican guy who initially mistook us for Hispanics of some sort. Then with our accents he was curious on where we were from. Turned out he was from Wisconsin as well but was working there. It is an interesting cultural phenomenon, minorities always tend to flock together and seek each other out. However, the further south you go, the more defined this phenomenon is leading to almost a sense of cultural separation. In the Midwest the phenomenon is less pronounced as for some reason cultures seem to mesh more easily. At least the way we perceive the Midwest.

Midwest Sweet Midwest

Excessive traffic and rainy weather meant we did not make much time or distance. In fact we were desperately lagging behind. On the bright side of it all, we were at home in the Midwest now. The border of Iowa and Missouri is miles away from Wisconsin, and more miles away from Madison. However, there is a sense of familiarity and contentment when you are in a Midwestern state. We are Midwestern hicks and the Midwest is our home. There was a certain sense of bliss seeping through our souls as entered the Midwest, the same sort of bliss that I felt when I had gone back to India for the first time.

Dinner was fast food again. This time though it was familiar fare at Culvers. It was some small town off the highway in Iowa and I don't even recollect the name. The most important thing though is that we filled gas and found a Culvers there for dinner. At Culvers we enjoyed our favorite fare of greasy butter burgers, fries, cheese curds and other Culvers delights.

Then at Culvers we experienced a moment that makes us realize why we love the Midwest so much. The manager like a good manager was doing the rounds and meeting the folks. This was a very small town, a predominantly white small town and obviously we were new people, new colored people who had never been there before. As she was doing rounds  the manager came up to our table, asked us how we were doing, smile, laughed and told us to enjoy. People may speak of southern hospitality, and I'm sure all the tales are true. To me however, there is a warmth and homeliness that goes beyond southern hospitality and that is Midwestern hospitality driven by the same principles that drive good old fashioned Midwestern common sense.

Home Sweet Home

Initially we had planned on taking a break in Des Moines for the night and then completing the last leg on Sunday the 15th. However, we were so close to home that we decided that we just wanted to plow our way home and make it. More importantly, we had spent way too much time together as a family. When you are five years old, you can spend days with your parents on trips and still be fine. Granted your parents probably want to gag you and dump you out somewhere, but you are in pure bliss. Unfortunately, once you get to older more conscious ages everyone wants to kill each other and dump the body somewhere. We were not sure if we would be able to sustain our sanity for another night with each other. All we wanted to do was get back to our own rooms in solitude.

In retrospect I am not sure if that was a good idea. We far exceeded our twelve hour cap with each other in the car. Stewing in a tin can with relative had reached dangerous critical mass, and we were just one disaster away from nuclear meltdown in the car. There were tons of heated arguments dangerously close to igniting weapons of mass destruction. To make matters worse the weather was not cooperative either making it a dangerous and difficult ride in bleak darkness and pouring rain. It was such a gray night that even the gorgeous Dubuque lost its beauty and sheen in the wet gloom that prevailed. Eventually like desperate Japanese scientists we were able to steer away from disaster and make it back home. We braved darkness, rain, night blindness, bad driving and made it home.

Home Sweet Home!


Sunday, July 10, 2011

An American Odyssey - Part Eight

Part One
Part Two
Part Three 
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven

The Road To Dallas

On our return journey to Madison we will be pretty much following the same roads in the Texas stretch. However, instead of bearing North East to Arkansas, we would bear North West towards Oklahoma and make our way home through the prairies.

We had till Sunday night to get home and the early drive time traffic in Houston is a bear. So we slept in a little on Friday the 13th and headed out late morning closer to 10 AM. By then drive time rush would be all done and over. Although we beat the Houston traffic, we could not beat the stupidity known as Texas roads. Their entire system is shoddy, incoherent, senseless and poorly marked. Yes the loop system is a nice idea, but you could fucking let us know where its looping to and clearly let me know how to exit the loop to where I want to go. Chicago and St. Louis maybe a bit confusing to country bumpkins like us, but at least its not stupid and incoherent. If a Texan were to spend some time driving in the Midwest, they would discover the hallelujah known as ease of navigation. Needless to say, we took a wrong exit off the loop. We could not figure the take exit on the left on the right and stay in the middle. All was not lost, it rendered us a lovely tour of downtown Houston before we were off on Highway 45 towards Dallas. 

Maximo

This day was special. My sister and I had meticulously planned it to be special and fruitful. After spending almost a week in Texas without trying a lick of Tex-Mex, Mexican or Barbecue, despite everyone telling us thats what we must do; we were done with it. We grabbed the bull by the horns and decided that as we exit from the South, we will nibble on at least a few southern delights.

Our first top was Maximo an upscale elegant Mexican restaurant in Dallas. Maximo is situated in a nice looking neighborhood. The massive wooden doors to enter the restaurant and its regal atmosphere would deem it out of the budget of middle class folks. Indeed lunch time had business men and women in expensive suits, wining and dining while they were wheeling and dealing. It would have scared most scrappy people away, but we did our research.

The first thing to note is that food is relatively cheaper in the South. Dinners in the South cost what a lunch would cost up here in the Midwest. Secondly, when you consider that lunch always means lighter low cost lunch portions you have a winner - a very affordable lunch at an upscale restaurant. Maximo for sure was worth the cost of every economical penny we spent. The food was authentic, spicy and delicious. If you are ever in Dallas check out Maximo.

Everyone is nuts in Texas

In civilized society we would call them jackasses, but we know that Texas is special. Its a state with very special people who feel the desperate need to drive giant trucks on giant highways. Thank God there are no Texans in civilized society like Wisconsin. Those cowboys would be driving military tanks in winter. So I'll be polite and call them nuts instead of asses and dicks.

I'd heard the story before. Texans have big cars, but tiny brains and even less patience. So if there is a traffic jam that is taking forever to move, Texans don't have it in them to endure the wait. They don't have it in them to think about traffic rules, safety and consequences. They might as well be crazed Italians or Indians. They drive off the road and make their own exit/intersection/path or whatever they need in the grass.

So as we waited in an endless traffic jam one Texan nut just steered his car of the road onto the carpet of grass. A few more cars followed and then some more. Now there was a nice flat patch of grass indicating an alternate dirt path. Every now and then some driver would see that path and follow it.

Kansas Sucks

Or not really. I happened to come across a license plate that screamed the obvious - "Cancer Sucks". Why of course cancer sucks! So I state aloud, why one would drive about with a plate screaming the obvious that Cancer sucks. The drivers must have a very strong opinion about Kansas my sister explains. Why does Kansas sucks wonders my mom. My dad is probably wondering if we should drive through Kansas. My grandma probably has a tangent only God can guess in her mind. I shrug hopelessly and explain, Toto not Kansas, Cancer, Cancer sucks.

Jamming in Oklahoma

There was a lot of construction on Highway 35 when we were in the South. We spent hours stuck in a traffic jam. We should have reached Oklahoma city by six PM, but were instead stuck bumper to bumper due to this construction. Just a week after we were on Highway 35 heading to Oklahoma city, one of the many summer tornadoes swept across highway 35 at the same time and place we were. One week later....and we would have witnessed the mayhem of a tornado. As much as I am fascinated by tornadoes and eager to see one, 2011 has been humbling and I'd rather bow down to nature than try to chase it with bravado. Maybe someday I'll find my tornado fascinated spunk back.

Bricktown

We had mapped out a barbecue place for dinner in Oklahoma City. As we drove into the part of the city where the joint was we found ourselves in a very hip and bustling part of town. There was a lot of traffic, and the parking lots everywhere were full. We soon realized that it was due to the ballpark next door and the Oklahoma RedHawks were playing.



This part of town is known as Bricktown and is the entertainment district of the city. Initially a warehouse district, this completely redesigned part of town boasts of top notch eateries, the Sonic headquarters, a massive movie theater complex, some upscale hotels all nestle around the gorgeous Bricktown canal and the meandering walkways around it. At the end of it all, the bad traffic and delays had somehow worked out. Initially we had planned on just eating and moving on into Kansas before calling it a night. At the end of a long day though, we were somewhat tired. However, we were more enamored by the charm and beauty of Bricktown in Oklahoma City. Who knew Oklahoma City would be so endearing. It had a twinge of Madison, WI appeal to it. So after a very quick vote on changing plans we checked ourselves into the Marriot Residence Inn at Bricktown. There were no cheaper hotels in sight and we splurged for the beauty of Bricktown.



Earl's Rib Palace

Our second southern meal of the day was barbecue at a casual joint known as Earl's Rib Palace. Reviews all over said they had some might fine and low cost barbecue. The ambiance of the joint is more fast food and laid back. In fact at lunch time it is a McDonald's style self service place. Dinner is a nice sit down deal though, the place was packed with tourists and locals. Usually, I avoid beef unless its ground up like burgers and sloppy joes. I avoid steaks and large cuts of beef, it never agrees with me and the flavor punch does not satisfy the desi in me. The south must have made me bolder, the thought of good barbecue must have tempted me with flavor. For the first time in my life I had a beef brisket, not whole brisket but a barbecue sandwich of beef brisket. It was juicy, meaty and packed with tons of barbecue flavor. My craving for barbecue in the south had finally been satisfied. I could now go back to Madison, or even hell if you will.

Enjoying Bricktown

Before retiring for the night we ambled back from the restaurant savoring the precious little we had to enjoy of Bricktown. Maybe someday, maybe someday we would have to come back here again. For now I enjoyed the lovely bright night, the gentle warm summer breeze and the walk along the canal. Gosh, I do love Oklahoma City.




Saturday, July 9, 2011

An American Odyssey - Part Seven

Part One
Part Two
Part Three 
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six

Chaat it up

Thursday May 12th was our last day in Houston. As a farewell our host planned to treat us to chaat for breakfast. There were a couple of well known chaat cafes close by. So around mid morning we piled into our Rendezvous and headed out. It was about 10:30 in the morning, so this was more like a brunch than breakfast. I've never had chaat for brunch, so this would be an interesting experience.

When we entered the joint we were kind of pleasantly surprised to see Mexicans manning the joint. (Alright, I am being somewhat stereotypical here. I'm not really sure of their ethnicity. It could be of any Latin/Hispanic heritage. But you get the gist. I'm not racist or such. I like them more than most other Americans) You get used to a lot of Mexicans in the United States, they are everywhere busing tables, flipping burgers, mowing lawns, cleaning offices and more. In a border state like Texas their numbers are even larger. However, no one in the world would have ever imagined Hispanics cooking it up in a desi joint.

Then again why not. There are many similarities in our cuisines. We have rotis and naans, they have tortillas. We have rice and lentils, they have rice and beans. They love spicy hot food, we love spicy hot food. There are common ingredients like cilantro, cumin, lime, garlic, peppers and more. A lot of Indians enjoy Mexican fare because it has curry like textures and flavors, and has a wider range of vegetarian options. So we were curious to taste Indian chaat prepared by Mexican line cooks.

I cant remember everything we ordered but it was a plethora of various chaats. Dahi batata puri, sev poori, aloo chaat, aloo tikki, vegetable cutlet, masala poori along with Mysore coffee and falooda. It was yet another desi meal in the south, but it was still delicious. The best comparison for chaats is tapas. Just like tapas, it is a small plate dish like an appetizer or snack. Chaat is usually vegetarian utilizing fare like puffed rice & other crunchy delights, vegetables like , potatoes, tomatoes, onions & cilantro, plenty of relishes and chutneys. There is a lot of flavor packed into one tiny bite really. Despite being tiny, it is surprising at how filling chaats can get. Looking at it you would plan on downing two or three plates at least, maybe more. Especially, in a heavy meal like brunch you plan to pack it in. However, this stuff really fills you up.

When it rains, it pours

Texas is experiencing a drought this year. The state is usually known for its hot scorching weather, but this year is exceptionally worse. Usually, it is hot and humid with the Gulf sea bringing in some storms and heavy rains. This year the storms have kept away. For some reason the heavens have decided to pound the Mississippi river and its tributaries, flooding the region into calamity but refusing respite to Texas with even a trickle. On the whole it sucks for the south. Some states are living in water world while Texas begs for water with parched lips.

We visited Texas in the cusp of summer. The weather was hot and arid. It had been dry for days, water was scarce and they were hoping for some showers. The mercurial heat was indeed troublesome for us Midwesterners visiting from the frigid state of Wisconsin, but we did not mind it. It meant nice dry days for us to go about our things. So that afternoon of Thursday May 12th, we had planned to go to the Galleria Mall and cool of some sort.

Unfortunately we failed to realize that we are the unsung rain Gods of the world. Somewhere way back in our families history, the Gods gifted our ancestors with the power of rain. We never really learned to control that power. Rain clouds just perpetually hang out and follow us, engorging on the moisture and spontaneously bursting into precipitation every now and then. My childhood was spent in the monsoon ridden wetlands known as the Konkan coast of India. The clouds followed us across the continents and now give Wisconsin a monsoon season every other year. So as custom goes the clouds had followed us to Texas, and on this our last day in Texas exploded magnificently on Houston, confining us to a lazy afternoon indoors reading books. As a youthful rain God the outpouring of the skies does not bother me. I've been known to tear down the highways of Mississippi at 85 mph pounded by massive columns of rain. However, the elders in the family somehow always seem lethargic after having torn open the skies and prefer to loll around, insisting that I be unproductive and loll around as well for safety reasons.

I've heard the Governor of Texas Rick Perry, has organized prayers for rain. As an unofficial rain god, I proclaim it ain't gonna work - The Gods don't like Texas much. For a nominal fee, return tickets and righteous living arrangements I'd be happy to fly more frequently down to Houston and let it pour. Mississippi, I don't blame you for sharpening the pitchforks for my arrival. But hey Rickie Boy, give our Pagan Gods a chance - we sure can make it rain.

Violent Games


On our final day in Houston, we visited our uncle and his family for dinner. While the ladies in the prepared for the meal, caught up on television or did whatever lady stuff they do, the dads and kids went to the playroom over the garage.

Before I go into the actual gaming, let me lay some foundational background. When it comes to sports, I'm highly competitive. Whether it is a competitive sports game or just a game of cards to wind down, winning is the only think I know and play for. There is absolutely no difference between recreation and competition in my world. Not a natural athlete, I've always relied on other strengths, or rather muscle strength to gain the competitive advantage. Playing cricket meant playing what they called "Hanuman Power" shots and badminton meant barrages of body smashes. I'm also a terribly sore loser. While I might vehemently deny the allegations, as a teen I was sort of a flamboyant and cranky John McEnroe of badminton. Cocky and exuberant on my on days and very pissed and irritable on my off days.

I'm a much more mellowed person now. Its been ages since I seriously played a sport. When your nearing thirty something, you really don't have as much drive in you. I'm a lot more lethargic and lazy now. But every now and then something sparks a competitive edge.

First my dad and uncle played some friendly rounds of table tennis. Then they decided to hand it over to the kids and I found myself facing against my little cousin in a game of table tennis. I'll tell you right now that I lost to my twelve year old cousin. Since I am a sore loser, I'm going to make excuses for myself. I've played a lot of games, badminton, field hockey, cricket, soccer, volleyball, basketball in my teens but table tennis is a game I never played till I came to the United States. The first time I even touched a paddle was in about 2003. I've only played the game when I visit relatives who have table tennis equipment. This game probably was only the eight or ninth game in my entire lifetime. In between these games my lifestyle is table tennis free, never even caught a game on television. In contrast my cousin plays and practices regularly. Just a few more games, and I would have been set playing.

After our grueling game of table tennis, we handed the reigns back to the parental units so they could have their competitive game and turned our attention to the air hockey table. Now this is a sport I've played even less, if you could call it a sport. My last recollection of air hockey is at Niagara falls eons ago, my sister introduced me to the game. I started playing easy in my lazy lackadaisical manner. My cousin though apparently has my competitive spirit and began whacking and slamming that puck like bullets into my goal. I lost my first game and that was it. I know grown ups are supposed to be easy with kids, but I ain't taking a beating in two sports one after another. Besides air hockey is a game that requires absolutely no skill sets or learning curve. If he wanted to bring it, I could bring it to. These arms that have wielded cricket bats and hockey sticks have a lot more strength than a twelve year old table tennis arm.

Bang! Crash! Whack! Boom! I violently pounded the puck as it flew across the table and disappeared into the goal. Bang! Crash! Whack! Boom! My cousin responded with as much might as we could, and my arms flew around magically defending my goal. Bang! Crash! Whack! Boom! There were plenty of defensive and offensive collisions. Bang! Crash! Whack! Boom! Every now and then the puck would fly across the room threatening to decapitate any innocent bystanders. Bang! Crash! Whack! Boom! I'd won two straight games with ease and flair. To give due credit the kid played brilliantly, responding with a lot of gusto and vigor. I see a fiery spark there, I love a competitor.

Dinner

Finally after getting worn out with some extremely violent games, we retired for the evening to enjoy dinner. It was another nice home cooked Indian meal. There was a refreshing avocado salad that was a medley of some Tex-Mex and Indian kitchen flavors, citrus with a slight kick to it. I never knew avocados could taste so light, not their usual dense creamy texture. There was also an Indian carrot and cabbage slaw of sorts. You have to give Indians credit when it comes to salads, with citrus, spices, yogurt, chillies, we manage to conjure up delicious flavor combinations and elevate salads to a whole new level.

Not so Violent Games

After dinner we settled indoors to play Xbox Kinect. We have had the Nintendo Wii for a long time now and were curious to see how the Kinect works. I am a Nintendo fan girl, but I must admit Kinect is a very cool concept and has a pretty decent motion sensor. It renders itself well to many family friendly games. It could be a big threat to the Wii. However, the Wii has marketed itself very well and I think Microsoft is full of sharp brains but lacks the creative genius to appeal to a market.

We played an athletics game that involved running, long jump, shot put, javelin, hurdles etc. Now I'm not lean like a track star, but I've run my 400k races, done my shot puts and javelins (never hurdles, I jump like a white kid). If this were a real track and field game, I'd have given it my all. When it comes to computer games, I might as well roll over and die. Whether it is old school controllers or motion sensors, my hand and eye coordination is like a drunken monkey on LSD. I'm so ungainly and unbalanced that it would be fair to wonder how I play a sport or even manage to exist. Needless to say I sucked at it big time. Just like I suck at every other video game. Thats why I'm not addicted, I love playing video games, they are fun, but after some time of hard scrabbled playing I give up. The only game I play is Super Smash Bros. where I have mastered my homeboy Link. Maybe, I was not meant for non violent games (Video games are fictional violence). I'm cut out for real world violent sports.

Whatever I'm cut out for, tomorrow is a long day as we head back home.