This morning I woke up at 5:30 AM (which is actually sleeping in for me, as I am usually up around 4:45 to try and drag myself into work by 6:30) and headed down the stairs, fired up the ol' computer and started watching Breaking Bad on Netflix. As one hour passed into the next and no one else in the family stirred I realized that I might be able to finally finish the series.
I have been watching Breaking Bad for years. I began watching it when it first came on and I decided I didn't like it, but when I gave it a second chance after the back episodes were Netflix I decided I liked it after all. At the time I was able to get up through the end of Season 4, and shortly thereafter the first eight episodes of season 5.
Then the long wait began. The second half of season 5 didn't start until 2013, and while I was aware of it I never got to watch it, despite the recently required DVR. I could just never remember to record the show.
At last, at the beginning of this year, season 5 episodes 9 - 16 were available on Netflix. I couldn't wait. I started episode 9 and....
...And it slowly dawned on me that I had no idea what was going on. So I went back to a place that made sense to me, about halfway through season 3 when Walter White starts working with Gustavo Fring, and started from there.
It's been a long road. My wife won't watch it with me, so I have to watch it early on the weekends or in the evening on my own computer. I have fallen asleep during many episodes and had to watch them over again. I began to despair that I would never finish the series. Indeed, when I recently went out to sea on a newly repaired submarine and contemplated the remote possibility that we might submerge to crush depth and become a soda can in Davy Jones' Locker, the thought that I would never really know what finally happened on Breaking Bad neslted up umcomfortably against the idea that I might not see my family ever again.
With 5 minutes to go this morning in the series finale, the call came from up on high (my wife stamping her foot on the floor to let me know that the baby was awake). I protested, I pleaded, but to no avail; I was reminded that all hobbies are subject to the requirements of the service. So, I would have to watch Walter White die another day.
Oh yeah...spoiler spoiler. Sorry.
Then, this evening, there was the USA - Portugal match.
I chose to watch the match at Hampton's Park Lane Tavern, which has always been a hub for good beer, bangin' fish and chips, and waitresses wearing short kilts; during the USA's competitive matches it becomes a small operating station for Sam's Army.
I had never watched a World Cup game in a bar before, and I wanted the experience. My wife and 5 month old (5 MONTH OLD) daughter came with me, and things went about as I expected; 5 month old was a little spooked out by the noise, the people, the new place, and bummed out by the lack of ceiling fans (which she loves). My wife seemed happy enough though. It was the closest thing we have had to a date in ages.
The game was certainly exciting, and the Tavern was full and raucous especially after the USA equalized 1-1 in the 64th minute; When Demepsy made it 2-1 in the 81st all hell broke loose. But then, right at the death, a perfect cross from Christiano Ronaldo found Varela in the box and ended the game in an unsatisfactory draw that probably wasn't deserved. A US victory would have made that game one of the greatest in US National Team history.
Ah, but take heart my fellow soccer fans! The US control their own destiny in the group, and it was a good game. I thought they played very well, much better than I honestly expected. I remember Klinsmann saying that his goal was to show that this team can go toe to toe and more with anyone, and though a major test against Germany beckons so far they have not been found wanting in that regard.
So there you have it. Two events which were good, but oh so close to being great.
At last, at the beginning of this year, season 5 episodes 9 - 16 were available on Netflix. I couldn't wait. I started episode 9 and....
...And it slowly dawned on me that I had no idea what was going on. So I went back to a place that made sense to me, about halfway through season 3 when Walter White starts working with Gustavo Fring, and started from there.
It's been a long road. My wife won't watch it with me, so I have to watch it early on the weekends or in the evening on my own computer. I have fallen asleep during many episodes and had to watch them over again. I began to despair that I would never finish the series. Indeed, when I recently went out to sea on a newly repaired submarine and contemplated the remote possibility that we might submerge to crush depth and become a soda can in Davy Jones' Locker, the thought that I would never really know what finally happened on Breaking Bad neslted up umcomfortably against the idea that I might not see my family ever again.
With 5 minutes to go this morning in the series finale, the call came from up on high (my wife stamping her foot on the floor to let me know that the baby was awake). I protested, I pleaded, but to no avail; I was reminded that all hobbies are subject to the requirements of the service. So, I would have to watch Walter White die another day.
Oh yeah...spoiler spoiler. Sorry.
Then, this evening, there was the USA - Portugal match.
I chose to watch the match at Hampton's Park Lane Tavern, which has always been a hub for good beer, bangin' fish and chips, and waitresses wearing short kilts; during the USA's competitive matches it becomes a small operating station for Sam's Army.
I had never watched a World Cup game in a bar before, and I wanted the experience. My wife and 5 month old (5 MONTH OLD) daughter came with me, and things went about as I expected; 5 month old was a little spooked out by the noise, the people, the new place, and bummed out by the lack of ceiling fans (which she loves). My wife seemed happy enough though. It was the closest thing we have had to a date in ages.
The game was certainly exciting, and the Tavern was full and raucous especially after the USA equalized 1-1 in the 64th minute; When Demepsy made it 2-1 in the 81st all hell broke loose. But then, right at the death, a perfect cross from Christiano Ronaldo found Varela in the box and ended the game in an unsatisfactory draw that probably wasn't deserved. A US victory would have made that game one of the greatest in US National Team history.
 |
| Oh no! |
So there you have it. Two events which were good, but oh so close to being great.
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