All Good Things...

"They say that all good things must end some day
Autumn leaves must fall
But don't you know that it hurts me so
To say goodbye to you"
--Summer Song, Chad & Jeremy

Like the Lakers' reign as champions, like SportsNight on ABC (and then again on Comedy Central), like Jim Carrey's comedic career, like Duke's undefeated season (darn you, Maryland), like Kobe's status as a likeable dude, like, well, you get the picture, all good things must come to an end. And I'm not exactly sure how this happened, but as of yesterday, I stopped liking Honey Wheat Thins. I'm just done. Ever since my first exposure more than a year ago, I seriously never thought I'd see this day come. To paraphrase noted philosopher 50 Cent, I ate those things like a fat kid eats cake, though maybe even that doesn't do it justice. I used to go through 3-4 boxes a week, though it had been trimmed down recently (primarily due to budget concerns--without sale prices, each box runs like $3.99) to 1-2.
The epiphany occurred yesterday in one of the edit bays, where a half-filled box sat between my buddy Mike and me. He finished it off and I had just one, realizing during the chewing and swallowing process that I didn't really enjoy it and didn't really need another one. I had to consider what was going on for a second, but it was really true: I didn't need them anymore.
It's strange to become so accustomed to something and then to just realize all of a sudden that it no longer needs to be a part of your life. Had that happen with a girl one time, though unfortunately the decision was made in my direction instead of by me--sorry, no more on that, my apologies for the sympathy-seeking interlude.
Granted, it's been less than a year-and-a-half, but Honey Wheat Thins had become a staple, a habit, so it's weird to see them gone now. I suppose I'll return to their sweet goodness on occasion, just for old times' sake, but it really is over now--I've gotta move on.
Don't worry, that entire section was done tongue-in-cheek; I'm not that freaked out or serious about the loss of HWT's from my routine, but it's given me cause to think about why certain things are so appealing at certain times in life and then lose that appeal at some other point. It happens with music all the time. I'll go through a phase where I'm only listening to one CD (for a while it was Jimmy Eat World's "Futures," lately it's been Linkin Park and Jay-Z's collaboration "Collision Course") and then that CD leaves the player and I don't hear it for months at a time. I had to be reminded by the radio yesterday that I liked Matchbox 20 (commercial during the Laker pre-game show on the way home last night, "Bent" on one of those FM stations, Star probably), so I played a mix of their best stuff on the way to the gym this morning and thoroughly enjoyed it. Just some food for thought, I don't know how it works.
Mentioned the other day how Latrell Sprewell was one of my least favorite players in The League, and that I needed to come up with a few more to make that a worthwhile topic of discussion. Here are the guys I can't stand, broken down by division (because I'm lame and organized like that):
Atlantic: Ricky Davis
Central: Scot Pollard
Southeast: Doug Christie, Samaki Walker
Northwest: Latrell Sprewell, Damon Stoudamire, Ruben Patterson
Southwest: Bruce Bowen, Malik Rose
Pacific: Mike Bibby, Peja Stojakovic, Chris Webber, Brad Miller, Greg Ostertag
There are three categories under which the players fall, giving them the "I can't stand" designation: 1) ridiculously selfish (Davis, Spree), 2) current or former Kings, Spurs, Jazz, Blazers--anyone who rivals or rivaled the Lakers at one time or another (Pollard, Christie, Stoudamire, Patterson, Bowen, Rose, Bibby, Peja, C-Webb, Miller, Big O), and worst player in the history of the Laker franchise (Suck-maki).
As I've scanned back briefly, I'm realzing that this morning's entry has dwelled almost exclusively on the negative, a reality which by no means indicates my current state of mind. On the contrary, getting to "sleep in" until 5 this morning (I was up by 4:30 yesterday because of a 6 a.m. edit session) has given me a positive outlook on today. And this evening's show will be a great one, with Donovan McNabb, Stevie Franchise (I do root for him, despite his new backcourt mate) and Brian Urlacher all booked. Good times.
Also, a heads up to my legions of readers (read: Side)--next week being Super Bowl week, don't expect much production on the blogging end of things. I'll be working a crazy long seven-day week (including ludicrous hours on game day), so writing might unfortunately fall by the wayside. Dang, another negative thing. Gotta end positive. Hmm. How about LeBron. 27, 9 boards and 15 dimes last night. He's freaking 20. There's something positive. Out.