DPC is not Steve McQueen and that is a gift to Humanity

If I was to make a list of my all time favorite movies, which I have debated before as a proper former Blockbuster employee, Le Mans and Bullitt would be somewhere in the Top-20. I'm not sure where exactly but likely in the bottom 10.

This isn't a knock on McQueen. This has more to do with my love of Wes Anderson flicks and how my Top 10 would be littered with the Royal Tenenbaums, Life Aquatic and possibly Rushmore.

With that said, I am a McQueen fan. This isn't exactly a bold statement. The dude has admirers by the millions and I am part of that clique. My fandom is why I wear a Gulf gas station attendant jacket and a Gulf Racing shirt.

A few folks probably assumed I was some type of hipster doofus and dressing like I pump petrol for a living but I was trying paying homage to McQueen and Gulf Racing.

The appeal of McQueen, at least to me, is that his coolness is unobtainable. It's out of my realm to be a handsome actor that is a racecar driver on the weekends. I can never be the King of Cool and that is a good thing.

Stanley Kowalksi wearing a bucket

What I mean is that McQueen and McQueen only should be the archetype for Cool.

Like a James Dean or Marilyn Monroe he died at relatively young age and never aged. We never had to deal with memories of an old McQueen like Marlon Brando in the Island of Dr. Moreau.

Tragically McQueen died fairly young and in doing so became timeless. There are no photos of him wearing a bucket in his later years

Hockey Saved My Life

I couldn't find a song in which hockey saved a life.

The title sounds like hyperbole and it really is. Obviously other facets of my days bring me joy, my family being number one on the list, but hockey and covering the Arizona Coyotes have made me happy.

Just that simple notion of being happy is a big deal for a writer that suffers from severe depression, amongst other psyche issues, and covering the NHL as an onsite reporter makes me happy.

It's such a simple notion being happy but due to some jacked up chemical imbalance it's hard for me to be stoked, glad all over, etc.

Press Box at Gila River Arena

My family is the best thing in my life. There is no doubt there and they keep me keepin' on. Working as a reporter on the side, covering hockey and motorsports, is the best hobby one could ask for. Yes, the hours are tough and the pay isn't great but it's a blessing that I alway cherish. Truthfully, I don't always feel worthy galavanting around Gila River Arena or Phoenix International Raceway with my media credentials and trying to come up with an angle for a story.

Even after four-years I feel like an imposter. Like someone will kick me out of and laugh at the notion that I was a reporter.

I don't cover any sports in the Summer and it's obvious to those that know me well that this has an adverse affect on my mood. No hockey or races at PIR make DPC a downer. I trivialize this notion of depression but it's true: I get worse in the Summer and peak in the Fall and Winter. I guess I have an odd version of Season Affective Disorder where I bloom when plants die. Maybe if I covered the Diamondbacks things would be different...

It's now September and it's a 100-degrees in suburban Phoenix. Despite the weather I have hockey on my mind and they are laying down ice at Gila River Arena.

It is unlikely that I will get hockey credentials this season. The site I used to write for went the way of the dodo and left me to blog. I am still a news man at heart, it's what I was trained to do at the University of Nevada, but I need a legit site to get sanctioned and unfortunately #PHOENIXSPORTSRISING is still rising from the ashes of my previous gig.