Rip City Violet.

I miss the days when I would wrestle with the children,

and my wife would be concerned for their safety, as I strategically used my high percentage of muscle fat to gently pin them to the ground until they surrendered and acknowledged my superiority:

"Careful with the kids, Josie!"

Now, it is them she gives the admonishment to, as I am piledrived by at least eight knees and elbows flying at my face from nine feet in the air:

"Careful, kids - he's fragile!"

Which is not entirely true or untrue.

Another thing I miss is seeing the Blazers win. If they can take the intensity with which my children annihilate my body into submission and direct it at the Spurs, then tonight should not be a problem. Victory is assured. Also, my wife has been playing basketball with the children all afternoon, and thus I was excited to join in when I returned.

I was greeted by my wife:

"I am VERY good at basketball,"

as she flippantly tossed the ball toward the hoop six feet away, where she pulled off the stunning feat of missing by approximately seven meters.

I disagreed publicly with this statement, and was assaulted with shouts of: "Mama's a way better basketball player than you, so we're not going to play with you!"

Which made me long for the days when I was better than her at basketball, and better than them at everything. Let's go back to last week, please.

Go Portland.

Also, if they really want to win, they need to be cranking Hole's "Violet" from 1994 in the locker room, which was also a good year.

Hole
Violet
Live Through This
1994