Write Derek at drksmart @ gmail.com
Write Phil at phil.bencomo @ gmail.com
by Derek Smart
Heretofore unknown levels of desperation and hubris have set in at my patch of the cube farm. Allow me to explain:
Before the start of the season, I purchased some disposable coasters with the Cubs' logo on them. I tend to have beverages in the afternoon that have ice in them. Said ice then causes the tumbler to sweat, which then coats my desk in libation perspiration, and since perspiration is a sign of trepidation in the population (a manifestation of destabilization, if you'll allow my generalization), and also implies a certain acceleration of desiccation, there's an expectation that this emanation of hydration will be brought to cessation without hesitation.
Point being, when I looked down at the coaster today I realized that it was the same one I'd been using since sometime in February, that there it had been, sans relief, day after day, week after week, absorbing the detritus of my daily swillings, all the while becoming more worn and beaten with each setting sun.
It then occurred to me that perhaps there was some sort of "mojo" in these coasters, that this "mojo" could be passed on to the Cubs with use, and that each coaster only had a certain amount to give before it was through - a state that would be clearly communicated by visual cues usually associated with the product having outlived the purpose for which it appeared to have been designed.
So, I have thrown out the old coaster and replaced it with a fresh one, which brings us to desperation and hubris: the latter, because apparently I am capable of believing that, of all the possible contributing factors to the Cubs' recent run of horrid play, the most relevant is the condition of a piece of cardboard that I was apparently "destined" to own; the former, because when one starts looking for metaphorical causation and concrete solutions from mass-produced paper products, desperation is really the only appropriate word.