Super Bowl Live Blog

I’m going to be blogging about the Super Bowl tonight. This will be updated as frequently as possible as the game unfolds. I apologize in advance if my posts devolve into incoherence as the night goes on. I’ve got 12 Bud Heavy tallboys, and I’m going to see how many of those I can consume before Madonna performs at halftime. If you have any input (especially drinking game suggestions), srm5082@gmail.com or @scottmuska.

6:05: Purchased 18 tallboys at 7/11. I now know what it feels like to be stunting like my Daddy.

Analyzing Nickelback Part Two: ‘Hero’

This is the second installment in a series where I try to analyze the feelings of hatred I harbor toward Nickelback, a band I seem to spend more energy disliking than would be required to pretend they simply did not exist. I will do this by subjecting myself to the band’s songs, videos and maybe some other materials. Feel free to email me analysis suggestions at srm5082@gmail.com.

Part one, with further explanation of my reasoning for this project is here.

I know this is not a Nickelback song. But I have two reasons I’ve decided to include it in my Nickelback analysis project anyway.

One: It is a song written mostly by Chad Kroeger and, to a lesser extent, Josey Scott (Saliva) that features a bunch of other musicians (most notably and surprisingly among them is probably Pearl Jam drummer Matt Cameron, who played in the recording but was not in the video). If it’s written by Kroeger, and his voice is included, it reminds me of Nickelback. Because when I think Nickelback, I immediately think of (and blame) Chad Kroeger. For a while after its release, I thought that Carlos Santana song with the singer from The Calling called ‘Why Don’t You & I?’ was actually sung by Kroeger, and I still think of Nickelback whenever I hear it, even though the band had absolutely nothing to do with the song. (Turns out, though, that Kroeger did do a song with Santana at one point.)

Getting Deep On The Fortune Cookies I Got In January

I spend a lot of time in my apartment worrying about the future while I eat Asian food. I’m serious. The volume of fortune cookies I acquire on a monthly basis, and the level of constant trepidation I feel re: a potentially bleak and unfulfilling future are both pretty astounding. I used to never open and read the fortune cookies, unless I was out with friends and someone wanted to make a spectacle of what our futures may hold as dictated by a sugary cardboardy thing that doesn’t even taste good. At home, I’d just toss them into the trash.

This year, however, I’ve decided to read every fortune cookie I get. I want to ruminate on what they mean, if anything, and if they have been/likely will be accurate predictions for my own future. Couldn’t hurt, right? They’re basically just going to be thinking prompts for my usually unguided and futuristic thoughts.

One Time I Went To A Gay Civil Union For Two Men I Didn’t Know

A few days ago I went to a same-sex civil union ceremony for these two dudes, Andrew and Terry. We are of no relation, they aren’t friends or really even acquaintances—I had never met either one of them until five minutes before they took the dive, and had only spoken with Andrew briefly on the phone the day before. Also, I am not gay. This trifecta makes it seem weird that it was probably the most emotionally excited I’ve ever been to see two people tie the knot. And I get mad excited for weddings. I love open bars and love, in that order.

Blood Donation Is Vaguely Philanthropic, Slightly Heroic

Two things I’ve always aspired to be are a stellar philanthropist and a superhero. The problem is I really only make enough money to support myself right now, so I can’t really make it rain at the local United Way fundraiser. I am also not equipped with any phenomenal powers, and I’m not brave, tough or even physically imposing. (Additionally: spandex is not something I look nice in.)

Analyzing Nickelback, Part One: ‘Photograph’

This is the first in a multi-part series where I try to analyze the feelings of hatred I harbor toward Nickelback, a band I seem to spend more energy disliking than would be required to pretend they simply did not exist. I will do this by subjecting myself to the band’s songs, videos and maybe some other materials. Feel free to email me analysis suggestions at srm5082@gmail.com.

I’m being honest? I used to dig the song ‘How You Remind Me’ when I was in sixth or seventh grade. Then, I was really into that ‘Hero’ song Chad Kroeger did with Josey Scott (the singer from Saliva). Like, really into it, though I maintain this had to do with my slight obsession with the Spider-Man movie for which it was the theme song. If I’d had YouTube back then, I probably would’ve watched and re-watched the video they made for that song, which was mostly Kroeger and Scott singing on a roof with occasional shots from the movie spliced in.

So, I didn’t always hate Nickelback.

Why I’m Doing This

I’ve really only had two serious professional aspirations in my life. I was either going to play basketball, or I was going to write. Since I am an unathletic dude without much of a height advantage, I ended up settling on the writing. At least for now. I work full-time as a newspaper reporter (it pays and is fun), and write other things on the side (doesn’t pay hardly at all but is even more fun). Sometimes they’re for other publications, and other times they’re just some stuff I write about, think people will want to see, and decide to post myself. Either way, all of my non-newspaper writing will now be posted or linked here, on my blog. I hope you like some of it.

Here’s the story about why I am doing what I do. It’s a question I ask myself frequently. There are two reasons, actually, one of which I can take care of speedily before launching into my anecdotes:

I’m really terrible at math.

________

I spent more time in cars than most kids. My parents had three other children, all close in age—they were mad busy in the sack from ’85-’90—and my Mom would lug us all over the place in one of those wood-paneled station wagons, and then a conversion van, during the years we were too young to stay at home alone.