Cleanin' out my closet

This weekend, my family and I will be hosting a huge yard sale (partly because I'm broke and partly because I have a lot of crap to give away). As I was cleaning out my closet today, it really hit me how quickly time flies by. During my sophomore year of high school, my Spanish teacher spoke to my class about the concept behind a Latin phrase. She spoke to us about the idea of tempus fugit ubi sunt.

The four-worded phrase literally translates to: "Time flies, where has everything gone?" Kinda depressing, yet completely true. As I was rummaging through my room with the hopes of finding worthy clothes to sell to complete strangers, one thing really struck me. Times change.

The 1990s were the heyday of baggy, ill-fitting clothing. People tucked-in their Polo shirts, wore too much flannel, and had the weirdest of hairstyles (where else but the 90s could you see a GROWN man with a mushroom haircut?) People still rented movies at Blockbuster and carried their trusty Walkmans wherever life took them.

The millennium swept through with a force. For starters, it brought the hipster trend to forefront of American society. Vans and Converse made a comeback. The Emo and Goth trends remained afloat. And, in grand fashion, Ed Hardy elevated the status of the graphic tee, giving hundreds and thousands of Guidos in the northeastern United States something to bulk-up at the gym for. I resurrected one of these aforementioned graphic tees today as I cleaned out my closet. I'm not sure what I was thinking in 2008 to be quite honest. I even had the matching shoes to go along with the shirt.


Moral of the story: times change, and so does the world around us. It's funny how things change so quickly. Just as I finished throwing my old Ed Hardy graphic tee into the "I guess this OK to sell" pile, I looked into my closet, saw my beloved pair of Sperrys, and came to the realization that the world around us is abuzz with change. Time really does flee our grasp.

In the words of my boy Ferris Bueller, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." Word.

Clear eyes, full hearts can't lose

There's nothing quite like the thrill of victory. Better yet, there's nothing quite like coming back from behind and upsetting an opponent after the promise of victory seemed only an improbable fantasy. This past Sunday, the United States womens' soccer team did just that: beat the odds.

For those of you who watched the broadcast of the game, you may have noticed that the US were battling it out with the referees as much as they were with the Brazilian national team. Many a great athletes have expressed their sentiments toward referee involvement in games. A lot of professionals regret the fact that arbitrators, whom are supposed to be impartial, hold a large stake in the outcome of games.

In what seemed like a blissful ending to a cinderella story, US forward Abby Wambach scored the latest goal in Womens' World Cup History (122') off a gorgeous cross delivered by midfielder Megan Rapinoe. Wambach's header would send the US into PKs; the rest was history.

After the game, ESPN reporter Bob Holtzman had the opportunity to ask Wambach some questions. He asked her to describe what scoring that game-changing header felt like. As Wambach fumbled for words, she eventually articulated that the team's improbable come-from-behind victory was a prime example of one of the United States' most important traits: perseverance.


Down one woman for 55 minutes and stifled by BS calls, the US certainly could have let Brazil have at it, vowing to try harder four years from now. I recall sitting next to my brother while watching the game, and mumbling "watch this" as the US drove the ball upfield in the 122nd minute. Sure enough, Wambach would head-in an absolute firecracker, leading her team to improbable glory. For a second there, the world stopped, electricity coursed through my veins, and that universal rush of adrenaline lifted me off my couch and into a frenzy of cheers.

I believe that today's feat relates to everyday life. Many a time we may find ourselves in the depths of misery, searching impatiently for a way out. Many a time we may feel like the weight of the world is against us, that the prospect of help is an impossibility, and that all hope is gone. Many a time we may feel that we can't catch a break. No matter what, we gotta keep up pushing. We have to look within ourselves, conjure-up as much strength as we can, and keep on fighting. If we do, a hole will eventually open up, we will receive that perfect pass, and we will all have our own shot at a beautiful goal.

U-S-A

"When it's your time to go, it's your time to go"

It seems like there's a perfect time for everything. A perfect time to get married; to start raising kids; to have sex; to get your first credit card; to take out your first mortgage; to go back to school. In the grand scheme of things, though, many of us don't realize that there's also a perfect time to die. Sounds messed up, right? Tell me about it. 

 Shannon Stone, 39, died last Friday. While at a Texas Rangers home game with his son, Stone leaned over the left field railing in hopes of shagging an out-of-play ball thrown by outfielder Josh Hamilton. Stone, in a frenzy to shag the ball for his six-year-old son, fell over the railing, plummeting a depth of twenty feet. Stone's fall, which was captured on television, occurred during the second inning of the game; by the ninth inning, he was pronounced dead.

The other day, my mom told me something that, although not comforting, is an undeniable truth of life: When it's your time to go, it's your time to go. Here's what I mean:

a) The game between the Oakland Athletics and the Texas Rangers, which Stone and his six-year-old son attended, was not a part of either teams' regular schedules. Shortly before July 8th, officials decided that both teams would meet on the aforementioned date to make-up an earlier game that had been canceled.

b) The ball that Stone was trying to reach was originally hit foul into the left field area by the Oakland Athletics batter. The ball ricocheted off of one of the ballpark's side walls, took a few bounces onto the outfield green, and ended up in the hands of Rangers left fielder Josh Hamilton.

c) Josh Hamilton, the Rangers outfielder who threw the ball into the stands, is known for ignoring the plight of many fans who ask for out-of-play balls. After hearing Stone shouting, "Hamilton, how 'bout the next ball?" earlier that game, Hamilton felt obliged to abandon his usual routine. He was trying to make Stone's day.

Forget about it. When it's your time, it's your time. There's no going around it. Whatever a person's religion or belief system, he or she has a fate that they must adhere to. If you need a freaky example of this notion, a) b) and c) above beckon us to examine the fact that when it's our time to go, it's our time to go.

Welcome!

Welcome! Willkommen! Ghini vinit! Bienvenido! 歡迎! (I copy and pasted this one).

My name is Bryan Almeida. Over the coming months, I will strive to bring my readership the most entertaining, insightful, and original blog postings I can possibly conjure-up. Rather than presenting my audience with monotonous, one-sided tirades, my goal as a writer will be to bring you all a refreshing and thought-provoking take on anything and everything.

Although The Chubby Philosopher is quite an interesting blog title, most people who know me will not struggle to ascertain its meaning. For those of you who don't know me personally, I chose the aforementioned blog title because of a) my cherubic nature, and b) my tendancy to over-analyze situations and look for deeper meanings. I hope you all enjoy the upcoming blogs; I'll certainly try my best to keep you all coming back for more. I hope to make you all think about a certain issue; if you do, I will have done my job.

Enjoy the blog!

P.S.: I'm not as formal as this first post makes me out to be.