Subscription separation

(*Jeez, has it really been nearly a week since I’ve posted? I thought I’d catch some time over the extended weekend to post about the laughable “deadline” set forth by MLS Commissioner Don Garber for the David Beckham crisis to resolve itself. Unfortunately, I lost my train of thought while reading about world making, fields of consciousness, and metafiction. If my brain were yellow, it would look like scrambled eggs. As a result, this is all I could come up with. My apologies.)

Anyone who knows me is certain of three things pertaining to me:

1. I laugh at everything*

(*And this apparently unnerves people who think that every time I laugh or chuckle - which I admittedly do alot - I’m somehow belittling them/their viewpoints. By no means at all. I’m just a very happy go lucky kind of guy. Check the quote from my high school yearbook: “Life is too serious to be taken to seriously.” )

2. I dream that the large construction development behind my house will eventually morph into a soccer stadium.

3. On Saturday afternoon, I can be found at any given bookstore

Since 1 and 2 have nothing to do with this post, I'll strike them from the record. For now.

Yeah, I'm a sucker for a good bookstore like an athlete who can't stay away from a "classy" strip club. What can I say? Depending upon your reading habits, bookstores are usually alot less sleazier, and much more friendly on the wallet (hey, what happened to all my ones?). Accordingly, book stores have served as a weekend refuge after a week full of school, work, and other responsibilities. Ti – I mean strip clubs – only serve to depress me. I think it has to do with the lighting. And the crappy food.

Anyway, I was at the book store some three odd months ago - mind you, this wasn't the last time I was there - when I picked up a copy of Soccer America and the subscription card fell out. It happens all the time.

But when I picked it off the floor, I noticed that an intriguing offer awaited me. A three-issue trial. So I did what any frugal shopper did - tucked the card into my wallet, filled out the pertinent information in the car, ran to the nearest mailboxand and said, YES, send me three free issues of Soccer America. On the double.

As promised, I received three free issues, as well as daily e-mails on soccer stateside and abroad. I have to say, I was pretty happy. Those guys at Soccer America know how to cater to the American soccer fan. It's like they read my mind, and never felt violated about it. That's rare.

However, as the trial neared its conclusion, overtures were made to transform my mini-subscription a full-blown, no holds barred, all you can eat subscription. I guess that's how drug users get hooked. Dude, try this. Guaranteed to get you happy/wild/messed up.

And I was hooked. I loved the info, the glossy magazine itself, and coverage, etc. But the price - well, that was the deal breaker. I mean, I could do it - I'm not insanely poor, but I'm not particularly rich enough to commit to another subscription* while I'm still paying for student and car loans, car insurance, lavish dates, rent, etc. So that's my situation.

(* I currently have subscriptions to Sports Illustrated, GQ, ESPN the Magazine, Car and Driver, and Entertainment Weekly. The sad thing is I hardly find the time to read more than an article or two from each. When they accumulate on the coffee table, it makes me appear well-informed, or so I'm told.)

Now I'll continue to pick up Soccer America every month or so at the bookstore because, heck, it just seems like a smaller dent each month than one big dent right now. I know it's cheaper in the long run to subscribe. To me, it's the equivalent of paying Subway $79 for a month's worth of subs. I know I'll eat them. But I'm just as happy paying five and change three times a week rather than forking over $79 bucks. I don't want to throw down $79 right now. I know it’s less than a 25 cents a day* for a year's worth of soccer information. But that money could go to a night of shopping and Dave & Buster's with my friend Jenn. Or to a couple of spiffy knockoff soccer jerseys on eBay. I have priorities, you know.

(*This is what the Soccer America marketing department has explained in its subscription e-mails. For less than a quarter a day, you can stay abreast of the latest in American and international soccer. Yeah, that’s a way of looking at it. But it also makes me feel guilty because I could save a child from poverty for less than a quarter a day as well. Thanks for the conscience check, Soccer America.)