The Game is On.

For those of you not familiar with the history of the DW and I, we have been together almost seven years now. I am not exactly the easiest person to get along with, and yet I am the easiest person to get along with. Let me explain.

As a true Taurean (Go Bulls! Go May!), a Trini, a protagonist, a procrastinator (of the Nth order) and an eccentric third child, I have been known to be a bit of an intense sort. When Pam and I started seeing each other, I vowed that I would approach the relationship differently to any other I have had in my life. This included being basically brutally honest, dealing with things out front and not letting stuff fester that was bothering me. I also vowed to be more open to alternate opinions and thoughts, flexible in decision making, a better listener and one who she can not only rely on but be comfortable going to regardless of what it is. Admittedly, I still need work on the last bit but I am trying.

So, from day one of our little romp through life, I made it clear that going out with me had two simple rules. These things were non-negotiable above everything else. Before you think I was dictating in a neanderthal way, understand that in being open it makes no sense to hide that which pisses you off the most. So, there it was laid out; the two simple rules.

Rule #1: I grew up in a house that was quite volatile at times (my father is emotional disconnected at times and my mother is non-identified bi-polar). As such, there was much yelling and throwing and beating and thumping. The biggest, strangest thing from that though was the slamming of doors. To me, this is an ultimate, in your face insult, rude gesture and shutting off of communication. If you ever really want to set me off and have me walk off and leave your ass where it stands, slam a door in my house. So, just don't do it.

Rule #2: When the game is on, DO NOT TALK TO ME. That's right, communication openness halts during the game; that is what commercials were put in for. Those wonderful little 15-120 second shows are there for our enjoyment, dispensing of information or as a lull in the game for idle chit chat and decisions about fast food. This rule has been in full effect since day one. And, for the most part, it was understood and followed for all sporting events; football (Toronto Argonauts), Football, hockey (Toronto Maple Leafs) and basketball (Toronto Raptors). By all means talk away during the Olympics or during the nastiness that is baseball (Blue Jays) (so that the mind numbing game is less so).

And that brings us to last night. Game four of the Western Conference Finals between the San Antonio Spurs and the Phoenix Suns. It was an elimination game as well because 2005 MVP and Canadian Steve Nash, and the rest of his squad, seemed to have operated in the last three games in some sort of perpetual brain fart. They could not shoot, they could not dribble, they could not pass and they &^%*&^% well could not shoot for shit. Last night however, I had faith that they would pull it off. So, I was ready to sit down and enjoy the game, the features and all the inane commentary and interviews; all of which encompass the idea of the "game" being on. DW knows this but seemed to have joined the vaunted Suns and suffered a brain fart of her own last night.

There I was listening to the great Bill Russell yap it up with Bill Walton and some other flotsam that ABC (the stupidest station ever to host an NBA game) employs to do these games. All of a sudden, my subconscious for some reason got some errant buzzing on my left side. It continued long enough to grab my attention so when I swung around to locate what was disturbing the game, imagine my shock that it was DW speaking to me. Did I lose it and yell at her? Nope, I never do that. i do what I always do. I sit there and stare at her blankly until she finishes. When she looks at me like a deer caught in the headlights wondering why I am not responding, I simply turn to the GAME and then back to her with my all encompassing look of "Have you lost your VULCAN mind?!?!?"

She forgot. FORGOT!! She forgot about the silly rule and the game and it is only an interview, blah, blah, blah. I just laughed and told her that I was going to blog her for this. She said go ahead. So I just did.

This one's for you, honey! Now, there are more games on this week. Try to remember the rule, will ya? Thanks much, love and foot rubs are on their way.

Peace.