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March 24, 2006
Alaskan in Exile
by Neil Zawicki

    Down here in Portland, there’s a little business that puts some guys together in matching uniforms and lets them play basketball against real NBA teams. They call themselves the Portland Trailblazers.

    I ended up with tickets to a Blazers game on Monday night. This is common. The near-bankrupt franchise gives the tickets out to local denizens of the community to fill seats, and hopefully to sell nachos and beer.

    Watching the Trailblazers play basketball is like watching puppies die. Even their cheerleaders made mistakes. Still, it’s a big-time sport, and it made for a good time on a Monday night.

    A small squad of fellow sea-crazy BoatWorks employees made it to the game, with outside friends in tow. All accept for Todd, who forgot the key to his home, and had to sleep on his boat. He made it to the arena, but got The Fear when he realized he was about to enter the game with a fifth of Black Velvet in his jacket pocket.

    Pity. Todd was once in the 101st Airborne, but these days he uses his degrees in philosophy and biology to wrench on sailboats and ask women if they’re headed for the library at 10:30 on a Friday night.

    It’s probably fitting that such a multi-angled soul got The Fear just short of entering The Arena. The reason being is that The Arena was a supercollider of all things American.

    Let’s get back to the cheerleaders. I have no aversion to looking at attractive women, but when they go around jumping up and down like nine-year-olds and smiling their Velveeta smiles, all I can think is just how silly it all is.

    Meanwhile, the Blazers were losing to the Milwaukee Bucks, and it seemed that more important than the game was all the flashy, over-excited interruptions – all of which involved frantic and contrived dance routines and little-minded humor. Soon, the available spectators had in their hands pairs of inflatable tubes, and were banging them together as if ordered to do so. Some didn’t even look like they enjoyed it; just that they felt obligated to do it, to bang these inflatable tubes together. The hollow clank filled the arena.

    The next thing we knew, the Megascreen displayed two large men stuffing their faces with what looked like tater tots, and the entire arena was cheering. We looked behind us to notice the two large eaters were right behind our Row 18 seats, gorging themselves in healthy competition, as cheerleaders beamed like vapid angels behind each of their thick shoulders. One or two cheerleaders had looks of shock and even disgust on their faces. The Blazers continued losing.

    To punctuate the eating contest, little groups of cheer minions began firing air cannons loaded with rolled up T shirts high into the rafters, while the announcer shouted, “How ‘bout some Freeeeeee Teeeeeeee Shirrrrrrrrts!”

    The arena went wild.

    The T-shirts rained from the ceiling, as packs of frenzied fans piled up to catch them, and took pictures of the ones that did.

    Meanwhile, the Blazers continued losing.

    I sat and watched, less-than excited about the spectacle. And then a T-shirt looked like it would fall near my seat, and I reflexively leaped up and shouted in an attempt to catch it.

    Hmm. Ain’t that America.





 



































Neil Zawicki, exiled Alaskan, is Editor at Large for Insurgent49, a former reporter for the Alaska Star, and winner of the Alaska Press Club's 'Best Columnist' award. He is now living out the rest of his days in an undisclosed location in Oregon. He can be contacted athondo23@gmail.com

- Columnists -

Editor's Desk
by Aaron Selbig

Red Alert
by Soren Wuerth

Alaskan In Exile
by Neil Zawicki

The

Bramble Bush
by Kevin Morford






- column archive -

March 17, 2005

March 3, 2006

February 24, 2006

February 17, 2006

February 10, 2006

February 3, 2006

January 27, 2006

January 20, 2006

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December 30, 2005

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June 24, 2005

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June 3, 2005

May 27, 2005

May 20, 2005

May 13, 2005

May 6, 2005

April 29, 2005

April 21, 2005

April 14, 2005


April 7, 2005

April 1, 2005


- also by this writer -



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in-sur-gent (in sur'jent), n. 1. a member of a group which revolts against the policies of its leadership.