PaulThology

In case my dwindling loyal reader base is wondering what I’ve been up to —

I don’t offer it up as an excuse for not writing, for I am much more concerned with the well being of my family than the well being of my blog, which can become healthy once again at any moment. 

Grooved to Citizen Cope at Center Stage March 6.  Now that ”Let the Drummer Kick” is in a Pontiac commercial (and Hem’s “The Part Where You Let Go” is the Liberty Mutual theme), I’m wondering what’s up…Mellencamp’s “This is Our Country” is Chevy’s anthem….what’s wrong with me?  I must only like artists whose music helps sell something else.

Easter in Cincy - It seemed far too early (March 23).  However, Miles and I discovered a great place to skate.  Next time we’ll bring our rollerblades and play roller hockey as well.  Guess we’ll have to buy some sticks there though, as I’m not into checking them through baggage, and although they’re not specifically banned as carry-ons, I think they’d fall under the “clublike items” umbrella.

Drafted my McCup team, the annual fantasy NHL playoff contest among the male cousins on my mom’s side.  I’ve been leading every day since the first week of April, but it looks like I will soon be overtaken, without any representatives from the PIT-PHI series.  Oh well, I still have a few weeks to admire it on my mantle before shipping it back to some smog-laden place in the northeast.

Spent 6th wedding anniversary (April 12-13) at this North GA cabin, which is brand new and cute.  Caught two wild rainbows right outside the back door, one 13″ and the other 15″.  No pictures, I dumbly left the camera’s memory card in the computer at home (But Laura was there to see it).  Oh, and it was a great relaxing weekend, even if it started out trying to find an unmarked cabin in the mud, dark, and rain of a Friday night outside Ellijay, with a wife who hasn’t even seen Deliverance from beginning to end.

Purchased a used SUV on Earth Day.  I’m going to hell.  At least I rode public transit to get there…if you can call C-Tran public transit.  It’s a far cry from the Gwinnett County Transit experience, kind of like MARTA strung out on meth.

Went to Bruce Springsteen at Philips Arena April 25.  That’s one show everyone should see at least once.  I lost my shorts as a ticket seller, next time I’ll just show up outside and buy before hand for about 15% of face value.  Though I’ve been lukewarm most of my life toward the Boss, he was excellent, and rocket for 150 minutes without so much as a water break.  Clarence Clemons did not look so good though, I’d be very surprised if he toured beyond this summer.

Euthanized our beloved MacKenzie (1994-2008), whose limited mobility had begun to affect her favorite pastime…eating.  Her last meal was fittingly a Kleenex tissue in Dr. Fowler’s office at Inman Animal Hospital.  They are angels over there.  As they are at Rex and Roxy’s in Decatur, who had all of the employees write a very sweet note.  Euthanasia means “good death,” and I’m fortunate to not be battling thoughts of doubt or regret.  She nearly reached 14, the magic age mentioned by Kipling.

Baptised 11 month old son Quinn in Richmond, VA.  Fun to see family, not so fun to have to come back to reality so quickly.

Booked summer reunion travel to Chicago.  Used Northwest WorldPerks on Delta airlines.  Don’t know if that’s only now allowed because of the merger of the two airlines, but was glad to be able to use them…it’s never easy to do.  I’ll miss the Northwest brand, I always liked them better than Delta, and the fact that they fly all over Alaska made those WorldPerks seem more valuable.  Now I just have to figure out how not to end up upside down on the Cubs field box seats I bought and don’t plan on using.

Now back to my life…which is bachin’ with the boys this weekend while Laura reunites with old friends down in Tybee.  And trying not to let the “government” in Myanmar and “president” of Zimbabwe keep me from thinking the world is going to hell in a handbasket, and it won’t have anything to do with Al Gore or his cause.

You really must try Photoshop Express.  2 GB of online photo storage, easy suite of simple editing tools, amazing response times with Flash Player 9…and it’s all free.  You can access your photos from Picasa, Photobucket, and Facebook.  I never wanted to pay for Flickr, never really liked Picasa, and haven’t tried Photobucket.  Facebook…I’m not in college anymore (though I do have a profile, for what reason I’m not sure)

So it’s not much of a review, but by the time you read a two paragraph review, you could have set up a free Photoshop Express account, imported all of your Picasa albums into Photoshop Express albums, and published them to their unique URL…though I don’t think you can set up absolute link paths to your individual photos (only to the album).

Forgive me…

This blog, if you haven’t noticed, is on sabbatical.  Yes, I’m “researching.”

Sabbatical: A period of time (usually one semester) when a faculty member is not teaching, but concentrating on his/her own education or research.  

I’ve written about the dreadfulness of the Tampa Bay Devil Rays before…but I know I’m not the only one. Now they’ve changed their name, losing the “Devil” and the seagoing mascot, instead opting for the sun ray as their logo/mascot. Don’t mistake it for a ray of hope though. Their hat still indicates that tuberculosis is the team’s reason for a decade worth of diseased diamond disarray. Me, I prefer the Onion’s take…that they change their sport in addition to the name and uniform.

Last month, I wondered how the Colorado Rockies could ever win the World Series. I knew that the hat logo was not on their side, combining the letters from both the city and the team name. When I was in Colorado when they announced the team logo back in 1992, I thought “How minor league is combining C and R on the cap?” I was able to find ONE other historical example at the Major League level, but it was the old Brewers mitt logo, and they cleverly combined and M and a B (most people just thought it was a glove and ball). Several minor league teams are using the “combine the city and name” letters on their caps, including the Tampa Yankees, Helena Brewers, Brooklyn Cyclones, Connecticut Defenders, Jacksonville Suns, Sarasota Reds, and Tacoma Rainiers (I am sure there are many more).

The team I wish would go to the above logo-clature…the Pulaski Blue Jays. Who doesn’t want an “P, B, and J?” In the major leagues, how about the Orioles (”BO”), Seattle Mariners (”S & M”), Dodgers (”LAD”), and Pirates & Phillies (”PP”)?

As the weekend turned the corner, I began my annual musing on why I’m a Cubs fan. My expectations each year are probably on par with those of the Pirates, Royals, and other perennial cellar-dwellers. Only the Cubs have a big payroll, and a fairly legitimate chance every year. But like the Phillies (who also bowed out without much of a fight), our team name and mascot reflects youth, and as Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings sang, “Old Age and Treachery always overcome Youth and Skill.”

I was glad to see them spend most of the year in second place in the dismal NL central, because I knew if they didn’t win the division they wouldn’t be called chokers, a label far worse than a loser, because chokers should always have won.

Whatever you say about their demise in the NLDS this year against the D-backs, don’t blame Lou. Piniella couldn’t have managed them to victory, just like Torre can’t be blamed for the Yankees loss. Players have to want it, and also have to win it. Getting two-out hits, or avoiding inning-ending double plays; those are the players’ jobs, yet in a team sport we all want to be able to focus our anger. And it’s frustrating to not be able to.

After the final out on Saturday, I began questioning the meaning of being a Cubs fan. I don’t feel like being a Cubs fan is a religion or cult, it’s just a state of supporting a team whose fans do the best they can without the moxie of actual on-field success. What brings us together are the labels others try to get to stick to us. I didn’t grow up in Chicago…I was born there but moved to California at a very young age. I’ve always loved visiting Chicago, and am curious if:

• I knew at such a young age whether I would somehow be able to associate with Cubs fans as an adult, or

• I have been influenced by Cubs fans, and have adjusted my mentality accordingly.

For a while this weekend, my outward mood struck others as similar to the mood of Ted Lilly after giving up the go-ahead HR in game 2, throwing his glove to the ground in frustration. But as much as the winning, I’ll just miss the daily routine of looking up scores, stats, and reading about the progression of 1060 West Addison’s ivy growth.

In case I haven’t expressed what I think it’s like to be a Cubs fan, perhaps you can indulge Phil Dotree, who wrote the following prior to the season’s end:

What other baseball fans don’t understand is that the Cubs don’t need to win to be a great team. The joy in watching the Cubs is the joy of being focused, the smell of a lawn in summer, the excitement of the win and the pain of defeat. All of it experienced, none of it sacrificed.

Much of the fun of parenthood is getting surprised by the limited comprehension capacity of your children, at just the moments when you think you are giving away the keys to the cosmos. Instead I like to think they’re “keeping it real.”

A conversation today after Miles finished asking a series of rather obscure, useless, and all-too-typical 3-year-old questions:

Me: “I wish I knew the answer to all of those questions, but I don’t know everything.”
Miles: “You don’t know everything?”
Me: “No, that’s what makes life so fun, getting to learn new things every day.”
Miles: “Dad?”
Me: “Yes.”
Miles: “Ummm…Do you know…Scottie?” (his friend)
Me (thinking I’ll just keep those cosmos keys for now): “Yes, of course I know Scottie.”

I just finished another life-nonchanging book, “There Goes the Neighborhood” by William Julius Wilson and Richard P. Taub (2006). At but 189 pages, it is both a quick and easy read. The book characterizes four Chicago neighborhoods and the social impact of changing racial compositions of urban neighborhoods. I found it frustrating that the authors chose to use pseudonyms for all of the place names, but I’m not familiar enough with Chicago to make much sense of them anyway (it took people familiar with Chicago about 5 seconds to decode the pseudonyms).

A lot of the first-person narratives and interviews gave the book a feeling of little more than a collection of anecdotal evidence put together by some graduate students working from a grant. Census data was also relied upon, as were the theories of economist Albert Hirschman.

I often read the foreword or introduction of a book, especially if it is by a person whose opinion I value. However, this book was devoid of both, meaning I got caught by the publisher’s words on the book jacket…specifically, “Groundbreaking, authoritative, eye-opening-and certain to rekindle, and permanently alter, the discussion of race relations in our time.” I found it none of the above, instead measuring it against my knowledge of the Schelling model of neighborhood racial segregation, and my support of the belief that perfect integration is an all-too-utopian ideal that cannot/should not be attempted/achieved as long as individuals are free to choose where they live.

From the Chicago Sun-Times review of the book regarding the decision to use pseudonyms:

Perhaps because this book comes out of a more hyper politically correct atmosphere — the ivy-covered gothic vacuum of the University of Chicago — than the reality of the streets, the authors were overly cautious. In any case, it is unnecessary and awkward and adds to the stiffness of the writing. Chicagoans are tough. If they can handle the wind chill, the CTA and the Blackhawks, they can certainly handle the truth.

Well put, eh?

I was happy to see the Colorado Buffaloes beat Oklahoma this past weekend…I went to CU-Boulder from ‘92-94, prior to transferring. I didn’t miss a single home football game, and rarely missed basketball games. But I was glad I left when I did (and haven’t made the effort to get back for Homecoming or other weekends), as Folsom Field (the football stadium) stopped serving beer in 1996, and now, basketball games in the COORS Event Center will also be alcohol-free.

Oh no.

As I’ve written before, Atlanta is the the City of Seconds, or more aptly, the Seconds City.  But you better anunciate, as Chicago is also known as the “Second City.” Saturday night I rolled into Twain’s Billiards and Tap in Decatur for the “official game watching party” to watch our beloved Atlanta Silverbacks take a shot at winning the USL Division 1 (the pro soccer league one level beneath the MLS) crown against the Seattle Sounders. 

They were “soundly” beaten, 4-0.  Twain’s didn’t even have the capability to pipe the audio for everyone to hear, so we spent the night watching a very poorly filmed, poorly played game without sound, if you don’t count the house band who played to our ‘backs-watching backs.  At least the Jumping Frog IPA and Madhappy Pale Ale were cold.

Bridesmaids once again.  But at least those bridesmaids are “happy to have made it here.”

The AJC sure is generous. Today on the AJC home page, center fielder Andruw Jones and his family’s home is “featured.” Featured in the way a seller’s agent features their “open house of the week.” Andruw’s baseball contract is up, and rather than having a stellar year that would make his agent Scott Boras‘ job a little easier, he has batted .222 this year (though he has 4 games left to help that out). Nowhere in the article does it mention the small likelihood of him staying here, which I’d put at about 20-1. In addition to his weak hitting, his fielding has been far less than spectacular. While is “Range Factor” is 14th among outfielders having played at least 100 games, he has but 3 assists, 7 over the past two years. I don’t know how I would calculate it for players from different positions, but situationally, I’d rather have a player who can remove guys from the basepaths in addition to just preventing hits.

Go ahead, read it for yourself. Perhaps it should have featured Jeff Francoeur, because he just might be the Braves center fielder next year. He leads MLB outfielders with 19 assists.

Family is focus: Andruw and Nicole Jones’ Duluth home