In today's GAZETTA we revisit Joseph Heller's "Catch-22", the phenomenally succesful novel and (not so succesful) movie and the character I reflect on most, Dunbar. I have previously discussed (and possibly introduced the readership to) Dunbar, the one guy who loves being in the armed services. He has concluded that life is short, and the best way to deal with its brevity is to be as miserable as one can possibly be, thus inverting the adage "time flies when you're having fun" to, in effect, time stalls when you're bummed. He loves the military because it is so horrible, non-sensical, innane-every day stretches endlessly, minute-by-minute; he achieves a certain perception of immortality, but pays the price. Thus what I describe as Dunbar's Dilemma: be happy, and life is over in 5 minutes (perception); be dolorous and live indefinitely,or as close an approximation as is humanly possibly, and regret every second of it.
A NUGie noted that we have 100 days until we see Boise State play again. In the course of a human lifetime (to say absolutely nothing of geologic, let alone cosmic, time), not a big deal. Or is it? Seconds can hang like hours, hours like days-"time moves slowly for one who waits, quickly for one who fears". An acquiantance was sweating away on a stair machine when an old man walked up to him."That looks tough" said the old man. "Yes", my friend replied "but it can add years to your life". "Or it'll seem like it" said the man in one of the best rhetorical sucker punches I've heard. Like that treadmill, waiting can seem to slow time down.Thus our principle: September seems a long way off because it is special when they play. Without the anticipation it would not be special, but waiting is a bummer. Plus our waiting has an added quality, because frankly Boise State fans have been spoiled by success (me included). We don't say this, don't even necessarily "think" it in the conventional sense, but there is an implied expectation (that's it) that we are waiting for yet another win. I know, we say the right things, "it's a contest-who knows?", we avoid "locker room wall" talk. But it lurks there, like an OBNUG reader too timid to post, idling in the background, absorbing, maybe making snide asides to himself that he dare not post lest his puny wilted ego be subjected to the full throttle vituperation of an honest-to-God Munson diatribe, an extraordinarily incisive kcam puncturing, a Mikrino skull-pounding. We wait, stretching the subatomic taffy of time/space 'til September, whilst in the frontal lobes of our hunter-gatherer minds the grapes of anticipation and expectation squeeze the relentless juice of a low level anxiety.
100 days. Will there be one of the transformative few among them, the days that can dominate a decade, a lifetime (Nov. 22 for me, 9/11 for all of us)? Don't know. But I do hope that we will ALL be here at the end of them, and that the we have the luxury of focusing on Boise State/Georgia game as a primal event in our lives, that reality has not intruded, the karma gods still occupy us, the Big Guy has not sent us (any of us) a message. 'Til then we "Dunbar on" my NUGies and I shall do my very best to supply some (marginal) diversion.
Jusque ce moment, adieu!