Sorry... this isn't the feel-good post of the year

When did I get so old?

I know, I know... everybody feels that way on their birthday, right?  Well, my problem is that I feel it on days that aren't my birthday.  And almost without exception, on the days after basketball.

And I'm not old, really.  But I feel old.  And I think that's much worse.  It's nice to see someone that is old acting and feeling young.  I'm the pitiful opposite though.  My knees have always been bad, but ever since I did in both my ankles, they've been really bad.  Still though, nothing new.  Sore knees.  But in the last year or so I've gotten a bad hip.  A bad hip... at 28.  Yup, I feel old.

And as much as I've gone downhill physically, it's the effect that it's had on my psyche that gets to me more than anything.  You see, I've always heard that an athlete's prime is 27.  My problem is that 27 was one of the worst years for me from an athletic standpoint, so not only did I squander my athletic peak, but in theory it's all going to be even more downhill from here.

I guess my litmus test has always been dunking.  And, I know, dunking isn't the end-all-be-all of basketball.  But if you asked me to remember my 20th birthday, I don't think I could tell you a single detail about that evening - and not just because of the drinking.  But, if you asked me to tell you about the best dunk I ever had, I would instantly remember being on the U of A outdoor courts, heading towards the hoop with only one lone defender foolishly standing in the way.  I would remember it as if it just happened.  My mind would be instantaneously transported to that exact moment in time.  So as much as the ability to dunk doesn't matter, it still embodies everything good or bad in terms of how I'm feeling these days.

So, a little history.  Coming from a small school, being a 6'0" tall kid that could dunk a volleyball in grade 9 got me noticed.  When you're a skinny kid in junior high school, having the best players on the high school team knowing who you were felt good.

I started getting real balls to go down in grade 10, and by grade 11 I was able to do more than just basic finger tip dunks.  I could get 2 handed dunks pretty consistently, and even the occasional reverse dunk.  Sure, I was never going to win a dunk contest, but it was something kind of unique to me, being the only guy on our team that could, for all three years of high school.

(Circa 2002)

The problem is, as much as I liked being able to dunk, at the time I didn't want that to be all I was known for.  I wanted that to just be a small faucet of an overall complete game.  And as such, I kind of grew to resent dunking.  Or at least, I didn't embrace it as much as I could have.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I loved dunking - I think everyone does.  But I don't think I appreciated it as much as I could have.  Maybe because I figured I'd always be able to.

And now that I can't...

I guess I just don't know if I have anything to be proud of anymore.  And it bothers me.  Back in the day I could always say 'well, at least I'm a decent basketball player, and in terms of the world's population, one of only a few that can dunk.'  But now, I don't know.  There's just nothing that makes me feel special anymore.  Is that a product of age?  The realization that not a lot of people are that special?  I mean, being able to dunk doesn't mean a whole lot to many of the people that occupy this planet.  If I walked up to Ghandi and was like 'dude, I can dunk.'  He'd look at me like I was an idiot.  And then probably ask me to hand him some food.  Why? Because in the grand scheme of life, it didn't really make me that special.  And yet, every time I step on a basketball court, I can't help but wish that I still could.

The Proof is in the Pudding

Ok, I know I've been on a bit of a Tegan and Sara kick as of late, and I know you probably couldn't care less... But I still had to post this, because if you read my travel blog, you know that I'm a big advocate of a picture being worth a thousand words.  So, without further adieu, the holy trinity of awesomeness:

I mean, look how happy Ewan is to be there, and Tegan (who posted the pic) captioned it as 'Ewan we love you!'

'Nuff Said.

Live vs Album

So that big long post about Tegan and Sara last week wasn't just to express my undying love for them (although, until now, I always thought that the expression 'the good ones are always either gay or married' only applied to single women lamenting the lack of quality men out there...)  The whole mindset came about because they recently released a new album.  And, much like every album they've released since my sister got me hooked way back in 2002 by playing 'If It Was You' on a never ending loop in the car, I was very excited for this one.  So much so that I ripped the audio from a live performance they did in Victoria of all their new material, just so that I wouldn't get too antsy waiting for the actual album to be released.  This audio was taken from a camera in the crowd, off of a YouTube video no less.  And all things considered, the quality wasn't that bad.  So, the new stuff went into heavy rotation on my iPod, and all was right in the world again.

Or was it?

You see, I absolutely fell in love with the song Alligator from that performance.  Which, should be a good thing, right?  Well, unfortunately... the album version kind of let me down.  It's still good, don't get me wrong.  But it's not epic like I was hoping. 

And despite the poor audio quality, I still prefer the live version.

Have you ever had someone quote you a joke or something from a TV show that you've never seen, and it sounds absolutely hilarious, and then you go watch that scene, and it wasn't nearly as funny as the way the person had told it to you earlier?  That's happened to me a few times.  And, staying on the topic of music, it's happened to me many other times as well - not just on the new Tegan and Sara album.  I remember enjoying a local band live many times before I finally bought their album, only to discover that my favorite song was not only no where near as good on the album, but they also had different lyrics that were way worse too.  Same with seeing a band I sort of liked on a late night talk show one evening.  They played a song I'd never heard before, I thought it sounded awesome, so I went out and got it, only to discover that the album version wasn't as good.

I only bring this up, because historically I'm very much the other way around.  I'll have heard the album version so much that when I see the band live, the songs aren't always as good.  Is this a product of over-producing the album in the studio such that it's so polished that it could never be that good live?  Or are some bands just not as talented when they're out of the studio?  Because a lot of bands have bowled me over at live shows.  So does that mean the ones that don't, maybe aren't as talented?

I think the best and probably most famous example of this is Dream On by Aerosmith.  Since it's inception, the question has always been: 'did Steven Tyler actually sing it?'  And although he vehemently stands by his assertion that he did, the fact remains that it's probably one of the most debated recordings in the history of music for that reason alone.  And the reason it's even up for debate (besides the fact that it doesn't sound like any of their other songs...) is because they can't recreate it live.  It just doesn't stack up to the album version that won the hearts of so many fans back in the 70's.  Regardless of what side of the arguement you stand on - I lean towards thinking that he actually did record it - it does serve as the embodiment of the entire point that I'm trying to make.

Anyways, I just thought I would throw that out there.  Maybe it's just me.  Regardless, thus ends my random musing for the day.