28 May 2009

Carrie Bradshaw and the 2005-2006 Super Bowl Champion Pittsburgh Steelers

(I wrote this on July 10th, 2008 at about 3:30 a.m. This is pretty dated, but I thought I would share it for two reasons: 1.) This is one of the most honest and simply best things I think I've ever written, and 2.) I havn't been able to honestly finish anything, and I'm kind of being lazy by posting this.)


Carrie Bradshaw and the 2005-2006 Super Bowl Champion Pittsburgh Steelers:

Why the Sex and the City Movie Means More to Me (Now) Than the Black and Gold Ever Did


I.

On July 9th, 2008 at 7:00 p.m. I went to the Allegheny County Jail to see the last ever public execution.

Inmate #000781926 was euphemized by lethal injection at 9:21:08 p.m.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.



II.

Truth be told, I have no idea if the Allegheny County Jail even puts down convicts anymore, and I certainly know that if they did, they would not allow the public to watch it. Anyways, why would anyone want to watch that? I mean, come on…lethal injection? A rather weak way for a criminal to punish, don’t you think? No, I believe that if you’re going to kill someone, do it as violently as possible. I’d rather see them fry like Michael Clark Duncan did in the Green Mile. Or maybe, and this is just me thinking aloud, see them forced to eat their bodyweight in their last meal until their stomachs literally exploded from overeating. Makes you wonder what it would be called if your last meal were stuffed pork chops. Double-stuffed pork chops, eh? Yeah, if I were really at the last public execution on July 9th, that’s how I would have wanted Inmate #000781926 to perish for the crimes he or she committed.


No…on that unusually mild July night I went to the Galleria movie theater in Mt. Lebanon to see Sex and the City. I’d like to say that I was held at gunpoint and forced against my will to sit in that theater and watch Cynthia Nixon up in pathetic arms about Steve committing an infidelity on their marriage because she wasn’t giving him any lovin’. I’d want you to believe that my family was being held hostage by jewel smugglers and would be released only after me having to sit through two and a half hours of Kristin Davis’ character basking in her perfect marital bliss while her three best friends were miserable with their own relationship troubles. And I would need you to understand that international terrorists from the Middle East were holding the free world hostage, and only me sitting through what seemed to be an endless ocean of forty or so middle-aged women laughing at every-last-one of Kim Cattrall’s smarmy, smart-ass comments was our country’s only hope of surviving from what one could only assume to be a nuclear holocaust of grave detail.


But alas, that was not the case.


No, I was just a shitty boyfriend.


A plain and simple shitty boyfriend (now ex-boyfriend) who has had to live with that self-inflicted, but most deserved, title for the past two months.


When her and I were together, she did everything and anything I ever asked of her. When her and I were together, I did two things with her that she wanted to do: 1.) We went to a lake once, and 2.) I hung out with her friends once.


Two things. That’s it.


That’s a very hard and bitter pill to swallow; to know that I did nothing for the person I was in love with. But I take at least two doses of that notion every single day. The slightly above average life I lead has become harder because I fully know and understand my mistakes. Now, I’m not trying to glorify myself or anything, but I’ve figured that I had at least owed her this one movie on top of the countless number of movies, restaurants, television shows, sporting events, parties, family functions, gatherings, shindigs, festivities, etc. that she had gone to with me.


For me.


And not for her (she was a very unselfish person to say the least, and I was, well, you got the picture already, right?).


So yeah, we went and saw that film, and I can safely say that Sarah Jessica Parker-Brodrick and her equally obnoxious co-stars taught me a valuable lesson: that no matter how much I believe it, no matter how much I want it to be true, the 2005-2006 Pittsburgh Steelers have taught me nothing that is valuable to my life, but the Sex and the City movie has.



III.

It was such a magical ending, wasn’t it? I mean, it was everything I had ever hoped for and more. The story leading up to it was flawless, but the ending…well, it just left me speeches. In awe. Mesmerized. Hell, if we’re going to be honest, it left me in a pile of drunken, masculine tears in the middle Elm Street in Slippery Rock, Pennsylvania on a very cold and bitter early February night. To quote one of my favorite films, at that moment, all was right with the world.


Yes, the 2005-2006 Pittsburgh Steelers Super Bowl XL Championship run was absolutely perfect to me and about twenty million other members of the prestigious Steeler Nation.


I’m only going to go into five minor details about that season only because professional football is not the point of this essay:


1.) Ben Roethlisburger was both the youngest quarterback ever to win a Super Bowl, but also had the worst quarterback rating of any quarterback to ever win the Super Bowl. After the previous season’s AFC Championship loss to the New England Patriots, Roethlistburger told Steeler running back Jerome “The Bus” Bettis, whom contemplating retirement, that if he stuck around for one more season, Roethlisburger would get him to the Super Bowl. He did this and then some.


2.) Head coach Bill Cowher, one of the finest men ever to lead any professional sports franchise, finally won the big one after constant criticism for blowing one other Super Bowl and four previous AFC Championship games. After the game, he, his wife, and his three daughters embraced on the field, then high-fived each other; an act of which Cowher himself has admitted brought him to tears.


3.) Jerome Bettis won Super Bowl XL in his hometown of Detroit, Michigan in front of dozens of family members and friends. Upon holding the Vince Lombardi Trophy on the winner’s podium, Bettis retired instantly from the game of professional football. Nobody could have written a better ending than that for the Bus.


4.) After winning the Super Bowl’s Most Valuable Player, it is tradition for that athlete to say, “I’m going to Disneyland!” After Hines Ward, Steelers’ wide receiver, was given that honor, he said, “I’m going to Disneyland, and I’m taking The Bus!”


5.) I was, in fact, driven to tears that February night. I blame it mostly on the Keystone Premium and Southern Comfort that I was drinking that day…all day in fact. But in my heart of hearts I know now that I was not only proud of my team, but also moved by how…well, moving professional sports really are. If anyone ever tells any of you that professional sports aren’t dynamic and heart wrenching, well, you can tell them to talk to anybody in Steeler Nation.


Oh, how I love me some Pittsburgh Steelers.


I was asked once what I loved more: the Pittsburgh Steelers or her (the ex-girlfriend I mentioned above)? I hesitated for a second, but naturally responded her. But in all reality I was honestly thinking the Steelers. Back then my logic behind it was that she may one day up and leave me, but the Steelers would always be there, no matter what.


I couldn’t have been more wrong.



IV.

Other then seeing odds and ends of the “Sex and the City” television show, I have never seen an episode in its entirety. To be honest, I think that if you added up my odds and ends, it probably would not equal a full half-hour episode of the show (if the show is even in half-hour incriminates). And do you want to know why this is true? Do you want to know why this is true for almost all men? Do you want to know why the collective alpha-male has never watched the show?


Because.


Because the show is for women. Because they depict an upscale life for women that is completely unrealistic to almost everyone including myself (and actually makes me feel inferior because I could never provide that kind of lifestyle for my lady). Because the witty dialogue isn’t so witty if you’re not a women. Because the sexual innuendos used are from the perspective of women, so they make me a little insecure and uncomfortable. Because my mother, my aunts and all of their middle-aged friends watch the show. Because if I had to choose one woman from that show to have sex with, it would not be Kim Cattrall’s character, and she’s the most logical choice because she is the easiest. Because, as Peter Griffin from Family Guy would say, making a judgment between Sarah Jessica Parker-Brodrick and Kirstin Duntst in a hot body/ugly face competition is an impossible feat, and the show would just make it harder. Because when push came to shove, I wasn’t going to watch a television show that I didn’t want to.


Take your pick because they’re all valid in my book.


They all hold some type of truth, especially the remark about Kim Cattrall.


But despite the many reasons I could have chosen not to go and see that movie with her, I needed to.


And I did.


And I was enlightened.



V.

Two things actually.


As we sat in the theater, which I might add was rather crowded for a Thursday night, I noticed that: 1.) None of the women whom were in attendance were alone, and 2.) I was one of only three men at the show that night. Now you may be asking yourself why anyone would go to a movies alone, and since I knew you were going to do that, I have come up with a logical answer. If you think about it, a movie theater is a very illogical place to go with friends, companions and loved ones because you shouldn’t talk. And if you’re like me and you want to get the most out of you $10.00 movie ticket, you won’t talk. Plus, the whole sociological construction of a movie theater is to prevent people from talking. Think about this: all of the seats face forward, preventing you from comfortably looking at the person next to you; because of the tiered-design of each row of seats, moviegoers cannot see the people around them, which as we all know creates a panoptic mechanism, which in turn forces one to be quiet because they never know when they’re being watched by others; and finally, thanks to George Lucas and the fine folks at Skywalker Sound, people cannot possibly converse without shouting because of how loud films nowadays are engineered to sound. So you see, going to the movies alone is a very acceptable behavior given each theater’s sociological construction, or, lack thereof.


But I digress.


I noticed that these women were not alone, and there is a reason for this: no matter how awful men truly think Sex and the City really is, women are connected by it. There was a general consensus of excitement in the air that night and it was shared not only by all the women in the theater, but also by every woman in the world who has ever needed a good laugh, a good cry, or simply a common bond to share with their fellow sisters. While even I found some of the movie humorous, I couldn’t help but to take enjoyment during the moments where all of the women would feel together in unison. Whether it was Steve admitting to Miranda that he had slept with another woman, Charlotte drinking the Mexican water, Big leaving Carrie stranded at the altar on their wedding day, or Samantha becoming speechless at the sight of her hunk of a next door neighbor showering, all of these women in the theater that night cried, laughed, cried and laughed together. Despite their varying ages, backgrounds, sexual orientations, races and classes, they were all united as one for that one night, and sometimes it just takes only two and a half hours to make all the difference in the world, especially to a woman. I get that now. I dig Sex and the City.



VI.

I also noted above that I was only one of three men in the theater that night. Truth be told, I noticed that there were only two other men because I was on the look-out for people who may recognize me. I, Sean Patrick Lohrer, could not…no, should not be spotted at the Sex and the City movie! No matter how much of the I don’t care what people think of me! persona I give off, I do have some sort of credibility to maintain, don’t I? Regardless of my motives and intentions, I did notice that two other men were there at the theater that night, and they were there with their wives. I naturally believed that I was better than them because, while I chose to come to the movie, they were forced to come by the brutal hand that is marriage. As I sat in that dark theater between the girl that I had at one point in time thought I was going to marry someday and a wall of silence that wasn’t created by the theater itself, but by my own insecurities and regrets, I couldn’t help but to notice the other two men: they actually looked like they wanted to be there and nowhere else.


At twenty-two I have time and time again thought that I knew a lot about life’s most important virtues; what it was like to truly be alive. Relationships have come and gone in my short existence, sometimes by my own will and others not. And I have grown-up with each failing one, treating them as life lessons, if you will. I can honestly say that that night I didn’t learn any life lessons nor had any epiphanies about how I could have been a better boyfriend; I didn’t come to any conclusions nor did I come to any realizations about why we’re not together anymore. All I saw were two men who were truly in love with their wives. At the end of that movie I looked at both of them and I saw happiness at its most beautiful moment. I know its’ cliché, but the looks in the eyes of those two men said it all. It was a very familiar look. I saw it in her eyes every time we did something on my terms, and sometimes I’d like to think to myself that she saw it in my eyes that night.


I’ve lived all my life as a Steelers fan; as part of Steeler Nation. I’ve waved my Terrible Towel with pride. I’ve felt disappointment when they lost. I cried when they won the Super Bowl. My heart was broken when Myron Cope died. Mr. Rooney was one of the greatest men who has ever lived. But in twenty-two years I have never felt as connected with the Steelers as I did with the Sex and the City movie and the woman I got to watch it with on July 9th, 2009.


That night inmate #000781926 was probably let off the hook, anyways.