There is a saying that goes something like, “You don’t know how much you appreciate something until it is gone.” For me I think that this saying could not be anymore real for me. I, the honorable Brett Weir III, left the West Coast and brought my gun-slinging Wild West writing show back to Vermont to drop some jaws and furrow some brows. This was not easy for me as West Coast living is very laid back and care free, even when compared to Vermont. Nonetheless I knew that I had a good place to come back to at with the Green Mountains, cool, brisk autumn air and a Gutterson Field House basketball game. My two new female roommates have brought about many changes and adjustments in my life since returning to Vermont. First, the furniture in the house actually makes sense and has some rhyme and reason behind it: There are no upside down laundry baskets acting as coffee tables and the curtains are not towels but they actually match the walls. The second and more serious issue I am faced with is the amount of sports that they are allowing me to consume now. On Tuesday nights when I would normally spend my late evenings watching Harold Reynolds and Peter Gammons breakdown the day’s baseball action, I am watching Trading Spaces and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. This sort of things makes for a rather large adjustment and forces me to change my game plan and dig a little deeper into my bag of tricks than plopping on the couch with a can of frosting and M&M’s while flipping through three college football games and two baseball games. I now spend a lot more time alone in my room watching ESPN Game Casts which are consistently an inning and a half behind real game time. My roommates think I am trying to be too big of a Phish fan and becoming a pedophile. I have also resorted to trying to bring the girls into the spectating and involving them as much as possible. This is no easy task as you must try and see the action through the eyes of a female. For example: Recently while watching the US Open I struggled to look beyond the overpowering first serve of Andy Roddick and point out what a good looking guy Andy is. This realization came with a little research when I saw the words ‘heart throb’ infront of his name. I was quick to point this out which allowed me to watch Roddick’s semifinal match with the following comments being made from both sides: “Oooh, I like it when he wears his hat like that.” “Who are those people in the green running on the court?” “They’re ball boys. They pick up the balls after each point.” “Why doesn’t Andy get his own balls?” “Because the ball boys get them for him.” “No, it’s because he’s so cute!” (giggles) That brings about another issue which is, if I am allowed to watch something and the girls decide to join me, many questions and topics which I have never thought about will follow. I have to talk about whether the pinstripes on the Yankees uniform make David Wells look any thinner (impossible), how they mow the infiled at Fenway, what is going on with Rob Dibble’s hair, and how the Angels won the World Series last year (Ok, I was wondering that). But luckily through a little thought and research my exposure to the sporting world has gone up a bit and both sides are benefiting from it too. I have both girls aware and into the pennant races while I have my entire fall wardrobe picked out and blinds that match the schemes of my wall paper.