Does the Electoral map and the distribution of African Americans in this country make you think that whites in the south can’t vote for a black candidate? Disconcerting, to say the least. Obama takes lily white Iowa but can’t carry SC, GA, AL, MS, or LA.
The new Google Phone, aka the T-Mobile G-1, aka “Android”, reports the location of the caller on a map. Better not lie where you are if your cell phone is reporting its position, and it’s likely your phone is giving you away. “On my way home, honey, stuck in traffic.” “Really, my phone shows you haven’t left the office.” Doh!
What a difference a letter makes.Chesney wins 4th CMA Entertainer of the Year, Cheney continues trek toward untold private wealth and public historical insignificance. Eva continues career as star on Desperate Housewives, hardly a rookie where it counts, and Evan (Longoria) leads Rays to World Series as a rookie, takes AL Rookie of the Year honors.
Could classmates.com and reunion.com be more irrelevant? Still based on a subscription model. Facebook has eaten your lunch. Go home and tell any advertisers you’re sorry. Toshiba stopped HD-DVD fight vs. Blu-Ray a long time ago, yet classmates.com and reunion.com are still here? It doesn’t cost anything to reconnect with high school friends who care almost as little about me as I did/do about them.
A big thanks to the Rays for silencing Red Sox nation this year, and saving us at least 2 hours of our lives, all of that time after midnight EDT.
The average game time of the LDS and LCS not involving the Red Sox this year was 3:06 per 9 innings, the games with the Red Sox 3:38. Even if you remove the two Red Sox games that went beyond 9 innings, assuming you’re making some kind of argument along the lines of “extra innings always take longer than a regular inning due to the pressure and pitching changes”, their games were 3:28.
The World Series games averaged 3:21. Given that they were 15 minutes longer than the average prior to that, is it fair to assume that a World Series involving the Red Sox would have approached a 4 hour game time average? What is this, cricket?
On a side note, “hope” will not change this nation any more than it helped my Cubs this year, at they lost their 9th straight postseason game. I was in attendance for their only postseason series win in my lifetime, a 3-2 NLDS win over the Braves here in Atlanta in 2003.
Any my apologies to the Rays, for having made them the butt of many a joke over the past decade, and they’ve now progressed farther than the Cubs have in the last 63 years. But please get that “TB” off your hats.
“Hmmm, my calendar is empty Friday. My Cubs ticket auction ends tonight, and no one is even close to the reserve price. I wonder if my high school buddy could get us a deal at his hotel? Fares…not too bad..$233 a piece, and with AirTran’s double credits deal, this would mean Miles and I would have a free flights to take come holiday time…”
That’s how it started. Actually it started back in March, when my friend Matt and I lucked out, getting side by side singles (”that makes a pair!”) in the 2nd row at Wrigley behind home plate against the Cards in late Sept, the last homestand of the season.
“Just close your eyes and click ‘Buy,’ he reassured me.
Yes, we thought at that time we’d either use them ourselves, or sell them for a pretty profit. I’m glad neither happened. I got to spend two glorious days in the Second City (one of them a weekday) in Chicago last weekend.
Some bullets re: the itinerary
Fri. am - An early morning MARTA trip to Atlanta airport and ensuing flight
Arrived at Chicago Midway airport, on CTA orange line by 10:30 am
Arrived Fairmont hotel, where checking in early is obviously not a problem when the executive chef is your high school friend.
Off to Wrigley via CTA Red Line, arrived about noon. Fought desire to sell tickets and spend the afternoon in Goose Island Brewery.
Game time was 1:20, got to greet Ryne Sandberg, who was the day’s guest of honor, doing first pitch and 7th inning stretch singing duties.
Score was 8-0 Cards by 2nd inning, my hex on Zambrano is no longer a theory…I’m watching his 2nd home loss of the season in 16 starts, having seen his first Aug. 9.
After the game, back to Millennium Park via train, went to Cloud Gate (that big chrome Bean that is the four year old “must see” for every tourist). Miles found it rather boring after having seen it 6 weeks earlier.
Upon approaching, Miles claims another piece of silvery architecture is a roller coaster from back when the dinosaurs lived, and they used to ride it before humans were here. Grooved for a few minutes at the World Music Festival in the Park’s Jay Pritzker Pavilion, specifically Richard Hagopian’s Kef Time Ensemble, described only as “traditional Armenian” music (I knew after a few measures that the 3-4 timing was clearly not “modern Armenian,” or “classic Armenian”…yeah right.)
But we had glove, bat, and ball, none of which work among blanket-bound tipsy folk and tippy wine glasses…so we walked to Butler Park to play baseball.
Then we went to the park’s playground, where darkness f-i-n-a-l-l-y fell. We walked back to the Fairmont, where Miles was dumbfounded by the many levels of streets of Randolph Drive. We relaxed for about 45 minutes trying to catch the Ryder Cup highlights, where I thought Miles would certainly be done for the day. Nope…he’s FOUR! “Dad, can we go see that fireworks show?” I don’t recall having mentioned it, but I must have.
So we walked…to really wear him out. It’s probably over a mile with the winding along the Chicago riverwalk and traversing the many leveled S. Wacker Dr. And Navy Pier is long…maybe 3/4 of a mile?
We caught the fireworks celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month, which looked a lot like the Fourth of July fireworks we’re all used to…only that the boom sounds had rolling r’s…
We got ice cream, Miles announcing after his first taste of Mint Chocolate Chip that it wasn’t minty enough, and that he’d prefer to switch and have my Cookies ‘N Cream. Whatever you want Mr. Miles. We ended up at the Beer Garden at the end of the pier, and enjoyed almost half an hour of Los Vicios De Papa (’The Pope’s Vices’ in English), a Chicago-based Mexican Ska band. They rocked the house, and we must have looked quite out of place dancing along the fringe of a clearly twentysomething Latino crowd after 10 pm on a Friday night, even if we couldn’t make out the lyrics.
We caught the last free trolley of the night, the last one of the year in fact, from Navy Pier back within a few blocks of the hotel. Then we crashed like a couple of drunken fratboys.
We awoke fairly early and headed down to Aria, the hotel’s restaurant, where my high school buddy, the executive chef, joined us, and we did our best to catch up on the latest while being interrupted by dropped silverware and rhetorical questions from Sir Miles.
Then off to the Lincoln Park Zoo via the 151 bus, and spend time among animals Miles has never seen, or hasn’t since he was very little (Polar Bears, Jaguar, Hippo, Crocodile, Ostrich, etc.). We decided to skip a second attraction back in Grant Park, and just play baseball outside the Lincoln Park Conservatory, where I am quite thankful that Miles did not hit into one of the sunbathers, who were probably surprised to see a late Sept. 80 degree day, but probably more surprised to find themselves in the basepath of a 4 year old baseball prodigy.
We departed at Randolph & Wabash from the 151 back in the loop, to our only problem of the whole weekend. Station closed, walk 7 blocks to Washington & Wells. Luckily there was a Dunkin’ Donuts, or I’m sure we might have perished…Thompsons lying right there in front of the Thompson Center.
The Sears Tower remained visible for most of our orange line trip back to Midway, and even after takeoff. When Miles asked me before dozing off whether or not we would be able to see the Sears Tower from our house, I said “I wish we could see the Sears Tower from our house.”
I didn’t even go to Georgia Tech. But I did enjoy years of working in Midtown in close proximity to the shanty at 14th and State that provided some of the best, if not truly authentic (so say the South Florida snobs), Cuban Sandwiches.
I called him Senor Ramirez, and have since learned his name was Silvesonso (I think he told it to me once and I couldn’t understand/remember it). His wife died several years ago, and the place just wasn’t the same, though the sandwiches were. I ordered un clasico todo el tiempo, con jalapenos, with CASH ONLY. When was the last time you found a place where something was so good that people didn’t exercise a desire to choose?
Atlanta lacks a lot of places you won’t find elsewhere, and I’ll miss taking visitors to that place, because so many of us here are seeking the small cultural hotspots that define NYC, Chicago, SF, etc.
Just read the authenticity in the reviews here. God bless Senor Ramirez and his legacy. He had a brand without a brand. A product that was too good for the glitz of a brand. And a brand of humanity. Adios, KKG.
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).
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 didn’t even go to Georgia Tech. But I did enjoy years of working in Midtown in close proximity to the shanty at 14th and State that provided some of the best, if not truly authentic (so say the South Florida snobs), Cuban Sandwiches.
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.
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.
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 
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.”