KOTOR makes for a happy Jenny.

Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic was on sale yesterday for $2.49 as a part of Steam's five-day Thanksgiving special. I got up late, but Jenny was sick and wanted to sleep even later. So I came downstairs, let the dog out, started the obligatory Weekend Coffee, and sat down at my PC to check Steam, because I knew they were running specials every day for five days. I figured I'd find something for The Lovely before the sale ended, but KOTOR for $2.49 was beyond anything I expected. So I bought it via my Steam account on Jenny's rig and downloaded it for her. By the time I got her out of bed it was ready to play. Yeah, I'm thoughtful like that.

Anyway, she's diggin' it, as you can see. Having beaten in on XBox years ago, she insists that it's one of the best RPG's ever and that if I'm ever going to see eye-to-eye with her on this whole "RPG's are worth your time" thing that I have to play -- and beat -- this game. It's not a small request. I have a whole post on my experiences with RPG's, and if you've read it, you know how picky I am.

I started KOTOR while Jenny was at work yesterday. I downloaded it to my rig because I wanted to try it, and because I knew I could max it out in every way with my specs. It runs great, and I'm a few hours into it. It looks like the sort of action RPG I like, but it doesn't play like one. It's a story-driven tale with lots of talking and quest-hoarding, punctuated by semi-interactive fighting. So far, it's very JRPG-ish, which is not good. Being set in the Star Wars universe helps, so I'll keep playing. I have to admit that it's addictive.

Going back to that old post, I should point out that now that I have the specs to run it well, I do intend to try to get further into S.T.A.L.K.E.R. than I did before. I liked a lot about that game, but the fact that it was so goddamned ugly didn't exactly make me want to stick with it. It looks much better with my 4870, and I do want to try it again. I also have The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion now, which I haven't tried at all. It came bundled with BioShock, which is why I bought it: BioShock for me, Oblivion for Jenny.

She's still playing KOTOR, by the way. I'm looking to my left, and, yes, there's Jenny playing KOTOR. So at least she's enjoying her little gift. Now I just have to upgrade her entire computer so I can get her Spore for Christmas.

The Forum experience.

I've been a die hard Grizzlies fan since they moved here in 2001, but I've never been able to get out to the Pyramid or the Forum to see them live until this season. The lovely Jenny, love of my life, being her usual super awesome self, got me my first ever Griz tickets to their win over their former Canadian sister team, the Toronto Raptors, back on October 30th. She got me some excellent seats: top row of the lower bowl, right behind the Grizzlies bench.

The Griz absolutely schooled the Raps that night. It was perfect for my first game. I went with my dad, who like me has always rooted for the Griz but hadn't seen them in person. He raised me to love basketball. I grew up rooting for the Keith Lee-era Memphis State Tigers. He's worked at the U of M since before I was born. I went to grammar school at Campus School, an excellent "optional program" Memphis City school right on campus (hence the name). Dad put up a basketball hoop in the backyard, and I played every day for ten years. It was a sad day when I outgrew my '85 Tigers Final Four tee shirt.

Anyway, I loved the Forum. It's a beautiful facility inside and out. I've been to the Pyramid for dozens of Tiger basketball games as a member of the U of M band, and the Forum blows it away in every category but one: it's not a giant fucking pyramid sitting right by the bridge from Arkansas. For all its problems, you cannot deny that the Pyramid is striking from the outside, and it makes our skyline, sitting up on the bluff over the river, look damned impressive.

Otherwise, the Forum puts the Pyramid to shame. It fits organically into Beale Street. The concourses are open and airy, with Memphis-centric artwork everywhere you look. Near the escalators to the terrace level, for example, you'll find a gorgeous five-by-fifteen-foot hand-made ceramic tile mosaic mural of Memphis basketball that has to be seen to be believed. Concession stands are creatively named, and the food is uniformly fantastic. It's clean, tasteful, and heavily staffed by competent, helpful, friendly people. Whimsical touches are everywhere, from funny restroom signs to a double row of kiosks where you can play Memphis-themed video games like a FedEx version of Pac Man.

Tonight I attended my second Griz game in as many months, which makes me a very happy boy. My mom was my hook-up this time, having somehow stumbled upon a great promotional deal. Two tickets for the price of one, and that one heavily discounted. I got two seats on the front row of the terrace (top level) just right of center court for twenty bucks. It was very nearly the view you get on TV, only in person, and infinitely more awesome.

Again, I went with my dad. I came prepared this time, gear-wise. I wore my Shane Battier '01 throwback jersey again, but I made Dad wear my current-era Griz hoodie. You gotta represent, right? Interestingly enough, I've now been to two Griz games without seeing a single throwback jersey other than the one I was wearing. Where's the love, Memphis? We went to the playoffs for the first time in the Vancouver colours! Don't tell me you don't remember the '04 campaign, because I'll know you're lying.

Anyway, we lost the game tonight. The Bucks came in wounded, with two of their best players, Michael Redd and Andrew Bogut, out with injuries. I say "two of" and not "two best" because rookie Brandon Jennings is the real damn deal. I posted this to 3 Shades of Blue:

Just home from the Forum. A depressing end to an entertaining game. For whatever reason (iffy coaching, lack of a capable point guard, perhaps) the gameplan was scrapped and the team relied on jump shots for most of the fourth, despite fifty (FIFTY!) paint points.

Aside from that, Brandon Jennings nailed the coffin shut. That kid is terrifying to watch if you're on the opposing side. He's so quick it's just... unnatural. Every time he touches the ball you just cringe. Conley, Mayo, and Williams took turns trying to stop him in the fourth, and they all got torched repeatedly. The Bucks may have won the draft lottery after all.

That's really all I want to get into in terms of tonight's game, other than this: the Griz put on a great show, and I witnessed some truly memorable plays. My favorite was O.J. Mayo's steal and dunk when the game was all but lost in the final moments, but a close second was Marc Gasol's two monster rejections. Here's one of them:

So thanks to Jenny, my mom, the Grizzlies staff, and the Grizzlies players. It was awesome to finally see my favorite team in person after eight years of TV. Dad thanks you, too.

Sunny is weird.

Richard and/or Donny's dog Sunny has this odd habit of howling when she's excited. She usually does it when playing fetch. She lets out this triumphant howl to let us know how awesome she is as soon as she picks up whatever you threw. "I got that damn toy! Do not fuck with me!"

You have to see it for yourself.

Picture time: work edition

Here are some random pictures I've taken on the job over the last few months. So. Yeah.

Titans win; I'm right again.

It's a heavy burden, being right so often*. I'm not trying to show anyone up, I'm just constantly vindicated in the long run. I can't help it. At work, for example, whenever we're trying to figure something out down in the shop, Dale's always wrong. He just is. Not just in the shop, but out in the field as well, on a PM or a maintenance call. Whatever he decides is wrong, which is why I usually override him. Because I'm right.

In this case, I was right about the Titans benching Kerry Collins and starting Vince Young. Of course, everyone else in the United States of America was right about this as well. They were oh-fer almost half way through the season, there was just no reason at all not to throw Young in there to see what he could do. Two losses later, they finally did, and what happens? Two straight wins.

Young showed his comeback is legitimate, outplaying fellow first-round draft pick Alex Smith down the stretch. Young has been clutch twice in as many weeks, getting the Titans (2-6) in the end zone when it mattered.

So yeah, I'm right again. You're welcome, head coach Jeff Fisher. I know you read this blog.

Anyway. We cooked out on the grill this afternoon, and I stuffed myself way, way beyond any reasonable level of... um, eatingness. I still feel like I'll never have to eat again. I put eight pork chops, five cheddar-stuffed kielbasas, and a monstrous smoked sausage on the grill and burned them over fire until they tasted good. Haley and Jenny roasted some potatoes in the oven, and cooked some sweet corn in, well, in the microwave. We cheated a bit on that.

But it was all unbelievable. One of the best meals I've had in a long, long time. Jenny tweaked the grilled pork chop recipe we made up last weekend, and she absolutely nailed it. Pork perfection. The potatoes, as well, were fantastic. I love red potatoes to begin with, but they cut, seasoned, and cooked them to a state I'd characterize as perfection had I not just used that word to describe the pork chops. We ate outside on the back porch by the grill as I cooked up some extra meat for leftovers and Richard burned the shit out of some beer brats. Topped it all off with a dessert recipe of Haley's: baked bananas with brown sugar, cinnamon, and butter, served with ice cream. Addictive would be a good word for it.

We fed five tonight and still have plenty of leftovers. Best of all, we bought most of the ingredients at the local Aldi for a song. After two trips there, I'm definitely an Aldi convert. Even better, I noticed that they use industrial batteries in their pallet jacks, talked to a couple managers, and I think we can get some work there. So it was a win-win-win weekend. Because I was right. Don't doubt it, just believe it.

*My egotism in this post is generally fictional; Jenny is so smart that she routinely makes me feel like an imbecile, consistently reminding me that whatever I think I'm at expert at, someone else knows more. Except about football. And my job. And Quake.