Thoughts On Ping Pong And Mariah

I’m only two weeks into this blog, and I’ve already gone through my first week-long slump. On the surface, this seems problematic for the future of this blog, but I have a really good excuse. Two really good excuses, in fact.

The first excuse is that my roommates and I recently purchased a Ping Pong table. And if you have ever purchased a Ping Pong table before, you know what it’s like. The best thing I can compare it to is the first couple of months with a new girlfriend (or boyfriend), when you simply cannot get enough of that person. You want to see them in the morning, afternoon and night.

Since last Thursday, that has been my roommates and I with our Ping Pong table.

My second excuse is that I was the host of rollicking housewarming party on Saturday. The toughest part about hosting the soiree was that we were forced to put the Ping Pong table away for the night. Once it was nesting cozily in the closet, the party was a great success. Unfortunately, my vicious hangover prevented me from writing anything on Sunday, which had been my plan.

But besides making my head throb like a cartoon heartbeat for the better part of the Lord’s Day, the party helped prove two pet theories of mine. They are as follows, 1) Whether they want to admit it or not, everyone loves Mariah Carey, and 2) About 90 percent of the population thinks they are really good at Ping Pong.

It might be deemed “gay” to admit as much, but I love Mariah Carey. I came to this realization over a number of years, and it hit home when I was in Ireland a few years back and a Mariah compilation came on in a bar. About five songs in, I said to myself, “holy shit, Mariah has a bunch of great songs.”

I was closeted about my Carey crush for a couple of years, but I will now openly admit it. I think it’s because I realized that most people feel the same way about Mariah. And though a lot of us like to turn our noses at pop music, there’s no doubt that there’s something to be said about a great pop song, and the bottom line is that Mariah knows how to make a great freaking pop song.

The power of a great pop song comes through most powerfully at a party. I take a bit of pride in putting together a fun party mix, and I felt very good about the combo I had diced up for Saturday’s festivities. Through the course of the 80-song mix, I threw in three separate songs that featured Ms. Carey, and while I got a good response for the music of the evening, there was not one song that got more props than, “Always Be My Baby.”

Eyes lit up throughout the room as soon Carey piped in with the first “doo-doo-doo, ah”, and at least three people (I was pretty drunk, so keeping track was tough) walked up to me and said something along the lines of, “great song choice! You are the handsomest man at this party.” OK, I might have made the second part of that up.

To further prove the resonance of Mariah, I remember being in a city park in Columbus, Ohio this past October. A group of four teenage boys decked out in urban-wear du jour strolled past me and sat down at a bench with a boom box. While I was still in earshot, I could hear them pumping the aforementioned Mariah track that was such a hit with my friends on Saturday night.

When Mariah wasn’t the topic of conversation, my roommates and I were pimping our new Ping Pong table. We’re pretty proud of it, and we wanted to share that pride with our friends, who invariably all proclaimed to be the second coming of Forrest Gump, who despite being fictional, is the most famous Ping Ponger ever.

Now I’m not saying these people are lying, because it’s not that hard to be a serviceable Ponger. However, there has to be a spectrum of skill, and someone has to be at the bottom. I used to play religiously at summer camp, so I’ve always fancied myself as within the top 20 percent of recreational players. This belief was brought into question in college when my friends and I used to play after dinner, and I came face to face with many players who had grown up with a table in their suburban rec room. I never had such a luxury, so my play was limited to the summer.

What struck me most was that everyone in my group of friends claimed to be an excellent player. And while everyone could play, there was clearly a hierarchy. It was then that I first came up with my theory that everyone claims to be good at the game.

I’d always wanted a Ping Pong table to call my own, and now the dream has been fulfilled. And now that I have a table, I’m sure I can vault myself back into my imaginary top 20 percent. Like I said, everyone (including me) thinks they are great at the game.

Ping Pong and I have always shared a special bond, though I can’t really describe it. I’ll just quote Mariah and say, “we belong together.”

***Sorry I missed last week’s installment of “The Gauntlet Report.” I didn’t get to watch it until Saturday, and it seemed silly to write it up three days later. I’ll have it this week though. I think.