I have yet to hear an adult in Texas speak casually about anything else. It’s an improvement over Oklahoma, where religion and rude personal questions are in the mix, but that’s faint praise.
With the exception of goofy Olympic stuff and ill-considered expeditions, sports are dead boring to me. Politics is OK in small doses but, unlike certain esteemed message boards, people around here just agree with each other and show off their limited knowledge.
Christ on a unicycle, I just want to talk to other adults about anything but fucking sports and fucking politics. Deep sea vents, cars, meteorology, board games, that cool bug in the parking lot, alcoholic beverages of the world, books, sustainable harpoon fishing, macroeconomic theory, carnivorous plants, outer space, the Russo-Japanese war, autonomous robots, hotels in Hong Kong, ANYFUCKINGTHING BUT FUCKING SPORTS AND FUCKING POLITICS.
Guys, you’re great coworkers, I can’t imagine who else I’d rather spend 5 days a week with, but when we’re not talking about work, can we try something different? Expand the horizons, experiment a bit? Who knows, you might enjoy it.
So, I take it you’re not on a first-name basis with every coach, player, and spit bucket carrier in history? Because I need help formulating an opinion about whether Jimmy is better or worse than Jerry, taking into account his decision to trade Bobby for Billy.
In another thread, Furious Marmot wrote of my post: “Me, is that you?”
Now I get to return the favor.
I’ve almost started this thread myself, and have the same complaints. The fascination with men in matching outfits playing games with balls completely escapes me. They’re not from our town, or often even our country. The coach is from somewhere else… the owner’s from another state, and you don’t know any of them personally. AFAIK, the Dallas Cowboys have never even been located in Dallas. Why?.. Why, must every conversation be ramrodded onto this subject?
Explaining my Dad’s 6-year project of building a house from only discarded materials (trying to prove housing needn’t cost so much), I’m stopped mid sentence by “Dja see when Buford throwed that Ball?” And the conversation is lost to sports.
Talking about delivering a plane the previous weekend and how the heater got stuck on max, and how comical it looked after landing in Cincinnatti and trying to get my shirt back on while taxiing… and “Didja see when Buford catched that Ball?” And our subject is sports again.
Telling about my previous job and how we used diving bells to reach the construction project at 600 foot depth, and the comical diver who always took a broomstick to poke at the fish (he was afraid of them) and… “Didjall see when Buford missed ketchin’ that Ball?” And it’s sports again.
Discussing with a co-worker the really quiet generator setup I built in my garage, and how I’d managed to use it in Yellowstone on vacation (in generator-free zones) and no one had noticed and… “Did Ya’ll see when Buford dropped that Ball?” and again, and again.
Exploring the boonies in my ATV I found an old (really old) cabin and a still… “Didja see Buford…”
Four-wheeling in my truck to a ghost town out west and…“Didja see Buford…”
I really don’t give a shit about grownups in matching colors throwing things to each other, but I actually make myself watch in order to converse with my co-workers. They are apparently unable to discuss any other subjects.
Gah… to have an intelligent conversation with someone that doesn’t involve sports. Maybe someday. :rolleyes:
In the orientations for sending Angolans and their families to Texas to work, they have a list of suggested topics that can ( usually ) be safe to discuss with your neighbors. Suggested topics are sports, weather, family, and work. Topics that are not recommended topics are religion, finances, and politics.
If they are sent to New Orleans, the above recommendations apply but they strongly advised to let people know that they are from “The Republic of Angola” rather than just “Angola”, since the later can be interpreted by locals as to be recently released from a local prison with the same name.
It’s nice to know I’m not insane, at least where this is concerned.
Going into this industry, I imagined that engineers, scientists, and MBAs would be exciting folks; more interesting and more interested in the world than the average person, certainly sharper than little ol’ state university me. What a disappointment: it’s all reheated 90’s talk radio and Buford’s big ball problems.
Here’s all I know about everyone I’ve ever met from Texas: not unlike immigrants from third-world countries, they both love Texas like their mother and they left the first chance they got (and only grudgingly return for holidays).
Granted, this is a self-selected group comprised solely of those who left, but I’d imagine, not unlike people from third-world countries, there are tons of Texans who’d love to escape but lack the means.
I’ll disagree with you on that. Regardless of politics, I don’t think I’ve ever met a native Texan who feels trapped here. Perhaps the relatively good economy gives motivated people the means to leave. Some folks leave, some stay. Lots of folks, like me and the most of the boys from the office, move here for the economic opportunity.
Nah, I was broke and bounced the check to renew mah hunting lease. But mah buddy Earl he had a wors’n than that last year.
He let some fuckers drill a oil well on his grandaddy’s ol’ ranch, an’ they was still going hard at it when he went down fixin’ to hunt. They got stuck on a dinosaur bone or somethin’. All the dang deer was chased away on account a the noise, so all Earl got to show fer the season is a million bucks in bonus money, an’ 200 grand for surface damages, an’ a royalty check for 50 grand a month. What a rip. He’s gonna sue them boys.
So far the only Doper I’ve met IRL.