Denuo - denuology.com

Recently, I got married (sorry for the heartbreak, ladies). We had the wedding in Cincinnati, which meant a lot of flying for planning (not fun) and flying for a honeymoon (very fun).

All the travel got me thinking about checked bag fees, pillow fees, and the changing expectations of travelers and their perceptions of airlines. Spirit Airlines announcing it would be charging passengers for carry on luggage to go along with the fees for checking bags is a great example of this.

I saw this in my neighborhood on my way to the train this morning. The area didn’t look like a construction zone and very well may have been someone reserving a parking spot with caution tape they bought at a party store (google/bing search was inconclusive).

All I know is either:
1) Someone at Lego is a genius because I immediately wanted to go buy some Legos.
2) Someone I live near is a genius because I certainly wasn’t going to park there.

The title of this post doesn’t mean I am going to pontificate on my addiction to college football, but rather I have figured out a way to solve the controversy that annually seems to plague the NCAA Football Championship: I am proposing that we eliminate the National Championship from college football.

Every year since 2005, Lollapalooza (a three day music festival) has taken place in Grant Park here in Chicago (Denuo’s base of operations). Every year since 2005, I’ve gone to Grant Park to listen to bands, eat rib sandwiches, and spend more time outside than anyone with Irish ancestry should. Every year since 2005, I’ve written a recap of the bands I saw and the overall experience. The first couple years I would just e-mail the reviews and anecdotes of 20 hours worth of music to some friends, none of which are music fans. Last year, on an old blog, I took my reviews public.

This year, lucky denuology fan (go sign up for fan club), you get to read the recap here. Same gimmicks as last year, just a new home.

Bienvenido “Benny” Torres and Christian Kugel struck their fists to their flat hands in a rock-paper-scissor “coin toss” to see who would get the opportunity to strike first in the inaugural Denuo Paper Football Championship Game. There was tepid anticipation in the air as their various vanquished opponents from the previous three rounds surrounded them to watch. Once players, they were now witnesses to desktop sports history. Only one of them (Albert Kim) had predicted that Torres and Kugel would meet in the finals. At the end of the count of three, Torres threw two fingers into a V shape, proclaiming scissors. The tension in the cold room was only matched by that of Kugel’s fingers. The maintained fist of rock signified the first victory of the day, and Kugel would receive the Torres kickoff to start the game.

Kickoffs are routine in just about every paper football game. But whenever Torres puts the edge of the paper football off his end of the table, preparing to slide the ball across the forboding black desktop, the crowd always sits with bated breath; each of them wondering if lightening would strike a second time.