So Don't Ask Me How I Found This But

Just in case you ever were really craving a bag of Grandma Utz' potato chips and weren't in the Mid-Atlantic region,

http://www.utzsnacks.com/docs/utzEveryday2009.pdf

I had no idea you could get a NC Tarheels trashcan filled with Sour Cream & Onion chips delivered overnight. Also of note: the Chip of the Month club. For the low price of $50/3 months, you can get nine bags of potato chips right to your doorstep.

yum-o

Reason #28746 Why My Girlfriend is the Greatest

She got us floor tickets to see the Boss play 1st Mariner Arena! She knows this already, but in the pantheon of cool things that people have done for me, this has got to be top three. Of course, she is responsible for the other two things in the top three as well, so let's just say she's on a roll.

I love you baby!

Not seen in this photo: my girlfriend (must have gone to the bathroom or something)

Weird Facts About Northern Alaska, Part I

- The sun rose today at 8:45, and will set around 8:15.

- At 10:50, both the sun and the moon were perfectly visible in the sky.

- Gas is currently $7.39/gallon as posted on the one pump in town.

- Every Alaskan gets $1,305 this year as shared oil revenue. (source: my girlfriend)

- All of the buildings in this town are built on stilts just like at the beach. This is done to prevent the permanently frozen ground from thawing and turning to mud due to the heat of the building.

- Sun Chips are available at the local store, on sale for $7.99.

- Curiously, Pringles are also available right next to them for $1.49.

- All of the restaurants and carry-out/delivery places in Kotzebue are run by Chinese and Korean immigrants, even though there is not a sizable Asian population in the town.

- Satellite dishes in this region of the world point either parallel to or towards the ground.

Greetings from the Great White North

Programming note: Here in the middle of nowhere 1MB pictures take forever to upload, so for a few pictures of the town I'm talking about in this post, you can check out my Flickr page. Please do so at your own peril. I do not take responsibility for any loss of joy or feelings of despair that you may find yourself overcome with.


I like my job a lot. I have a lot of responsibility, it is a lot of fun, and I like to think that I'm pretty good at it. One of the things that has made my job a lot of fun over the past year has been a contract that we put in place with the National Park Service to install audiovisual systems in their park Visitor Centers throughout the United States. This is, truth be told, probably the biggest reason that I haven't posted any meaningful blog posts since June. This summer, I've been sent to New Mexico, Arizona, Minnesota, and Cape Cod, all to the great chagrin of my immensely patient and understanding girlfriend.

But the trip that I have been dreading/looking forward to the most is the one that I am currently working through: a new Visitor Center/museum for the Northwest Arctic Heritage Center in Kotzebue, Alaska. I know what you're thinking - Gee, I think I should know where Kotzebue is - but I am here to tell you that you do not. Quick - make a mental picture of the state of Alaska. Got it? Now imagine the worst possible place to build a town.

That's where I am right now.

Yes, that's right. I'm closer to Russia than I am to Seattle right now. Hell, I'm closer to Russia than I am to Anchorage right now. I am above the Arctic Circle. I am 4 hours behind Baltimore. I am a short plane ride to the got-damn North Pole.

All of that to me is extremely neat, and before I go any further I would like to make sure that everyone knows that I am aware of how rare of an opportunity this is, and how I should treasure every moment, and how I'll never get this chance again blah blah blah.

But this place sucks. Hard.

It is possibly the most depressingly dark and foreboding town that I've ever been to or seen. It is extremely quiet, and almost always overcast and damp. Nobody talks or looks at you, and I swear to god that every building has a boarded-up window in it. And before you say that I don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to dilapidated buildings, remember that I do live in Baltimore City. This place is twenty times more depressing than East Baltimore. I'm not exactly sure why, but it is.

My best guess is that I don't feel as though the residents here know any better. But they have to, right? This is 2009...its not like they don't have the Internet or TV. But it seems as though no one here cares about how their house looks, or how much garbage is piled in their front 'yard', or how many broken-down dog sleds they leave 'round back. I guess they'll get to cleaning it up someday, but I swear that I haven't seen anyone cleaning anything since I've been here.

What I really don't understand, above all else, is what would draw anyone to live out here. And yes, I know, most of the people here didn't move here but were born here. But they can leave at any time. Again, this is 2009. There's an airport within walking distance of everywhere in the town that can take them to Anchorage, and from there anywhere else in the universe. They don't have to stay here, where the number of available jobs probably can be counted on your right hand and where the cost of groceries are so prohibitively expensive your money wouldn't get you anything anyway. Why would you want to try twenty times as hard to find a job that doesn't pay you any more than anywhere else just for the privilege of living in a run-down depressing dirt-bag town where your money is worth less than everywhere else? It just doesn't add up for me.

And as far as I'm concerned, the whole 'this is the only place I know' argument doesn't hold any water any more. Everyone has a marketable skill, and it only makes perfect sense to use that skill to make money where it can buy you things you want. Not only does Kotzebue have a severe shortage on things that people want, like say, clean drinking water, when it is available, it costs more than six times as much as everywhere else on the planet. Don't believe me?



Best $6.19 I ever spent.

For a lot of the remote places that I've been to, I've often found myself thinking, 'I would never want to live here in a million years, but I can understand why these people do, because _____', where _______ is usually beautiful scenery, or cheap land, or being away from the big city, or whatever. I can't find the reason here. Well, unless you're really, really into 4-wheelers and being able to drive them down Main Street. In which case, have I got the place for you.

And if all of that wasn't enough...you can't buy alcohol here. Yes, as Alaska's final kick in the nuts to itself, it took away the one thing that could make this place bearable.

I wanna come home.

Just to Keep it Going

Hehe...whelp, sorry about the whole 'not-writing-any-blogs-for-a-couple-of-months' thing. Things have been crazy at the ol' mill. I've been sent off to the five corners of the globe, or at least the US - Arizona, New Mexico, Minnesota, Cape Cod, and soon, Alaska. But recently I was reminded that I haven't updated the site in a while, so I figured I would write something and at least make Blogspot.com think this is still an active site.

So,

something.

I'll be back - I promise.

Roger Clemens Writes a Book

I'm not even going to pretend that I can write anything this funny, but Jon Bois from Progressive Boink can, and I can certainly link to it in a vain attempt to associate myself with it:

Roger Clemens wants to write a book, just like Jose Canseco's. Here's Chapter 5 (unedited, of course):

CHAPTER 5: What Hath God Wraught???

Roger Clemens was a housewholed name. Even 1-day-old babies across the Fruited Plain, rattling they're baby toys and crapping themselfs, knew of the great "Rocketman" (Roger Clemens). He was a man who Lifted the Spirits of the Nation uponst his furrow'd shoulders and bench pressed it into Heaven. When he retires, even the most leather-jacketed of men will weep.

He stood there on the pitcher's mount. He stared up at the stands. Announced attendance: a freaking buttload. Time stood still and it did that Ken Burns thing where some one play's a piano and clumsy-footed children run the bases in slow-mow. "Time to Genuflect," remarked Roger.

He look't at the baseball he held in his artisan, meaty hands. Fact: a baseball is exactly 5 inches in diameter. Fact: a baseball is comprosed of exactly 5,000 stitches. But it was not the maths of the Modern Age that juxtaposed Roger at this particular time. Rather: "how am I going to strike out this Bozo?"

The Bozo in question was Mike Piazza. Mike Piazza was an stupid nerd whom was loathed by all. He stood in the batting circle, one abreast, and turn'd to face the fans. He did that thing where you put you're thumb on you're nose and wiggle around you're other fingers! The fans where Enraged. "Nyah!" he taunted. "Nyahhhhh!" Also, one time he threw rocks at Maya Angelou. Our nation's freaking Poet Larroquette. Only God knows why. What a butt head.

Anyway, but, however, I Digress. Piazza walked up to the batter's box, as though a dumb guy walking up to the batter's box. "Oh crap," thought Roger. "This guy is going to call his shot." Sure enough. Piazza cupp'd his hands and bellow'd to the Heavens, "SHOT!" The towns people trembled, but; Roger didn't tremble. Trembling is for Moral Midgets.

I went through the Signs with my catcher. "Do you think it was unrealistic that the aliens could die if you poured water on them," he said. "Yes," I said. (This part of the story is just a joke [not real]).

Mike Piazza haunch'd over and awaited for the pitch. Roger leveraged his buttocks and through the baseball.

[NOTE: If this book gets made into a movie, make this part go into slow motion and play "Jeremy" by Pearl Jam. Thanks, Rog]

"STRIKE ONE," scuttled the Umpire. To more strikes. That's all Roger needed. He was done clowning around. He threw another fast ball, inside and away. It nailed the middle corner with the beautiful craftsmanship of an agile carpentress. Strike two.

Everyone stood up and cheer'd a heavenly chorus. The crowd was extemporaneous. Mike Piazza expected a fastball; but, Roger threw an even faster fastball. Swing and a Mrs. And it was strike three. The catcher said, "Crap, my freaking hand hurts!" Piazza said, "I'll get you next time, Clemens!" Then a bird pooped on his head. Clemens was carted aboudst the field in a Horse Driven Chariot. He had won the game. He had faced down Mike Piazza and sent him to Kingdom Kong. [NOTE: is it Kingdom Come or Kingdom Kong? Looked it up on AltaVista, results inconclusive.]

Then Brian McNamee came on the field and said a bunch of stupid bull pucky. Then Skylab fell on him.


CHAPTER 6: The Sound and the Furious

Love it.

Where Major League Baseball Pays Attention to Me (finally)

So I woke up this morning, as I often do, to not only the sound of my cat crying right above my face, but thinking of the Orioles and their prospects for success in the future. As everyone knows, Baltimore plays in the toughest division in baseball, the AL East, where not only the red sox and yankees hold sway, but which now also features a much-improved Toronto team and a Tampa Bay team that went to the World Series last year.

I'll be the first to tell you: tough shit. It is what it is. As much as I hate the fact that we play in a division wherein we could win 90 games and still come in third place, I don't mind the challenge, and at least we can never say we won the division by default, like San Diego did in 2005 (with a .502 winning percentage). Plus, as bad as we might be, we will still pack Camden Yards (and downtown Baltimore) with idiots with disposable incomes every time the red sox and yankees come to town.

Still, it frustrates me that there will likely be no let-up in the determinable future. Unless the NY somehow stops being the most recognizable baseball franchise in the world and the symbol of Americana for many foreigners (not likely), or they for some reason decide to stop spending tons of money on good baseball players (not likely), they will be good forever. Unless Boston somehow stops hiring smart people like Bill James and Theo Epstein and running their franchise like a smart version of the yankees (not likely), they will be good forever.

So the best chance for Baltimore is to do something like Tampa Bay did last year: wait until your prospects that you have been stockpiling for years come to fruition, make a couple of smart trades to fill gaps, get extremely lucky, and hope that Boston and NY have injury problems to have a shot at it for one year. After that, everyone will be gunning for you and you won't have any money left anyway, so good luck to you. That sound is my heart breaking.

Anyway, I woke up this morning thinking about how hopeless it is to be an O's fan and also how cool it could be if there was a divisional re-alignment that went North, Central, and South instead of East, Central, and West. I figure it would work out like this:

AL North:
Boston
Toronto
Detroit
Minnesota
Seattle

AL Central:
New York
Baltimore
Chicago
Cleveland
Oakland

AL South:
Tampa Bay
Kansas City
Texas
LA Angels of wtf

How cool is that? Right now (assuming the current schedule) the standings would look like this:

AL North:

BOS     33  24 .579

TOR     33  27 .550  

DET     31  26 .544

SEA     28  29 .491

MIN     28  31 .475

AL Central:

NYA     34  23 .596

CHA     27  31 .466

OAK     26  30 .464 

CLE     25  34 .424

BAL     24  33 .421 

AL South:

TEX     33  24 .579

LAA     28  27 .509

TB      29  30 .492

KC      24  32 .429

That AL North is shaping up to be a pretty hot race down the stretch.  The AL Central is all but locked up, but the AL South
could still go a bunch of different ways.

Okay, so Baltimore would still have no chance this year, but that's not the point.  I would have to think that these divisions would be more competitive. 

That took longer to do than I thought it would.  I'll do the NL tomorrow.  NIN tonight!!!!

Arrre Youuuuu Readddyyyyyy

One of the things that I always thought would be the coolest part of being a Major League baseball player when I was a kid was the chance to pick out your very own walk-up theme song. You know, the song that plays over the PA when you come up to bat. (This goes a long way to explain my strange relationship with baseball and other professional sports. Other things I think would be great perks to being a Major Leaguer: picking your own number, seeing yourself in a video game, getting to wear throwback jerseys, etc.)

I didn't realize until I met a friend at work who was into the same stupid aspects of baseball that I was, and we had multiple lengthy discussions about not only what our choices of walk-up music would be, but why certain Major League players picked the songs they did. The failing of our logic, however, is that Major Leaguers, for the most part, are musical idiots and don't put 1/16th of the effort into picking a song out that we would.

Whereas I would pick a song like "The Promised Land" by Springsteen or the cool rocking part of "Thru and Thru" by the Rolling Stones due to cool lyrics and music, it turns out that real ballplayers pick songs for some of the following reasons:

"A friend of mine on the [St. Louis] Cardinals picked it out for me. I like that it doesn't have words."

"I really don't care. As long as it rocks, that's fine."

"It needs a good beat. Something that doesn't put you to sleep."

"Whatever they want to play. It doesn't make a different [sic] to me."

Guys. C'mon! You are professional ball players! Take delight in getting to be involved in the thrilling minutiae that idiots like me would give their right pinkie to think about! At least pick a song you like or pretend to give a shit about. Because whether or not you care, there will always be nerds like my friend and I who will over-analyze why you picked a song called "Going Down".

Mister Anderson...

Turns out Brady Anderson is still alive~! Who knew, right? Or, as privatedialect puts it:

I find it laughable that Brady Anderson is writing articles that are anything but omissions of immense steroid use and / or accusatory blogs on how the Twilight vampires stole his look.

Actually I am just kidding. That was a pretty well written article for a retired muscle head. He brings up some very, very, valid points. I think that there are three main reasons why Angelos has such a bad rap with Baltimore.

1. People hate losing ... and after years and years of doing so it seems easy to blame the one constant.

2. People are f***ing sheep. One idiot says, " F*** Angelos " and everyone else is ready to follow.

3. He is ugly. I mean not to sound superficial but people are. And man is he ugly. Probably has really , really , bad breath too.

Seriously, though, I think ol' Sideburns makes some very good points. Peter Angelos, while certainly not the best owner in the world, has been demonized, and I believe extremely unjustly so over the last couple of years. Sure, when Mike Flanagan and Jim Duquette and all the rest of the bumbling fools who have been our GMs over the last 10 years were in charge, Angelos may have poked his head in one or two too many trades or free-agent deals.

But since Andy MacPhail has taken over, Angelos has really stepped out of the spotlight and let the people who know baseball run the show. And in the meantime, he has spent the money when he has had to. He locked up fan favorites and building blocks Nick Markakis and Brian Roberts, returned 'Baltimore' to the road jerseys, and has kept ticket prices relatively low and hasn't sold the naming rights to the best stadium in baseball (yet).

So lay off the ugly old toad.

The Man-Child Cometh

Matt Wieters is coming. Friday. Here to usher in a new realm of peace, prosperity, and bobbleheads to Baltimore. Or, as Shysterball puts it:

The smallest crowd in the history of Camden Yards showed up to watch the Blue Jays fall further into the abyss. The crowds will be larger this weekend, however, as Matt Wieters will be called up to make his Major League debut. Prediction: Mere anarchy will be loosed upon the world, the blood-dimmed tide loosed, and everywhere the ceremony of innocence will be drowned. The best will lack all conviction, while the worst will be full of passionate intensity.

Indeed.

Designated for Assignment, Part III: Harrisburg Senators

Ah, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Gateway to the...umm...well...it's kinda near Hersheypark, I guess. While Harrisburg has many admirable qualities, proximity to other major metropolitan areas is not necessarily one of them. It's about an hour and a half away from Baltimore, and probably about 3 hours from both Pittsburgh and Philadelphia. Everywhere else is pretty much inaccessible...kinda like being in Little Rock, Arkansas: Well, I'm kinda near Memphis...*sigh*...or I guess I could go to Tulsa...*sigh*...oh, nm.

Anyway, Harrisburg just happened to be the next stop on our tour of minor league ballparks. It became the next stop pretty much by default: I had planned on going to Salisbury, MD, but we figured traffic would be absolutely horrible due to the Memorial Day weekend, and the Harrisburg Senators just happened to be playing the Bowie Baysox (AA affiliate of the Orioles)!

Sweet, I'll get to see one of our top pitching prospects: Jake Arrieta!

Oh, wait. He pitches on Friday. I get to see Bobby Livingston. That's...almost as good...*sigh*.

Turns out he pitched a pretty good game, but enough about that - let's get to what everybody flocks to my blog to read about: what kind of crazy crap the Senators have outside their ballpark!

An old bridge!



Skeeball!



Batting Cages!


Psychedelic Dentists!



An old red shed that is used as a ticket box office!


Batting Cages!

Seriously, I have to hand it to the Senators: they give you some awesome extra-curricular activities to play with. There's a whole arcade area that is outside of the stadium that has a collection of old-school stand-up video games, try-to-get-the-claw-to-grab-the-toy games, skeeball lanes, and all other kinds of token-operated fun. None of these diversions holds a candle to the batting cages, however, which are available to anyone (12 pitches for a buck) and come in baseball and softball versions with speeds from 35 - 90mph. Yours truly stepped in the 55mph cage and promptly made a fool of himself. I blame the fact that I was wearing sandals, my loose and floppy batting helmet, and the fact that I suck at baseball.



The stadium itself is an interesting design - there are assigned seats behind home plate and along the third and first base lines, but all of the rest of the seating is general admission bleacher seating. And there's a lot of it. What is weird is that in front of the bleacher seats, which go all the way to ground level, is the concourse where everyone walks to get food/play on the Senators Slide/get autographs from the poor sonovabitch who got stationed in the autograph booth that day, and then in front of the concourse is another section of assigned seating. It's not unlike a moat of people. We liked sitting in the front area as it kept us well away from the riff-raff and common folk of Central PA.




We were lucky enough to attend during "Superhero Day", which basically consisted of the cheer/energy/lame-o squad dressing up in ridiculous superhero costumes and the scoreboard operators blasting old animated clips of 60's-era superhero cartoons in between innings. And also Diego, from the Nickelodeon show. I think the most bizarre event of the evening occurred when the Senators switched pitchers and the scoreboard operators took that opportunity to play a clip from the Diego show, which consisted of a small leopard singing a cheery song about how much bigger and stronger he was getting every day. The players looked a tad on the bewildered side.

They also are strongly in the running for most bizarre/awesome inter-inning gimmick: a human hamster race!



did i mention they had batting cages

I have to say that I really, really enjoyed Harrisburg's stadium, except for the fact that they currently name the park after a bank, and are planning on changing the name to another bank - Metro Bank Field or some such B.S.. They are in the process of renovating it, and it should be really great after they get done, but so far I have to say that with it's combination of small-park feel, extra-curricular activities, great scoreboards, separated 'elite' seating sections, and the fact that you can get a tall draft of Yuengling, I'm liking Harrisburg the most out of all the stadiums we've been to so far.

Designated for Assignment, Part II: Frederick Keys

Our journey to all (or most) of the minor league ballparks in the DelMarVa region continued last Saturday to the lovely provincial town of Frederick, MD. The Frederick Keys, the Orioles' single-A affiliate, have been playing at Harry Grove (ha) Stadium for as long as I've been alive, and from the looks of the stadium, for as long as anyone in the organization has been alive. It is the first of the ballparks that we're going to that I have actually been to before, but it was when I was but a wee boy, so I don't remember much of my original trip.

The night didn't get off to a great start - although we found the stadium with no problem and parked in the Keys' spacious (and free) parking lot, as soon as we got out of the car it started raining. I immediately threw a fit as I was sure that things were not going to go my way that night (this happens more than you would think), but luckily the rain stopped by the time we got to the entrance and never came back.

My happiness with that development was quickly tempered when, as we were approaching the entrance, we saw men in their 40s clutching stacks of 5-6 Matt Wieters bobblehead packages. It was Matt Wieters bobblehead night, and while I knew that and was excited about the prospect of picking one up, it seemed a little bit too good to be true. I mean, baseball in Frederick, MD, fireworks night, and a bobblehead? Well, I suppose it was too good to be true, because the 40-year-old comic book guys got there early and snapped up all the bobbleheads, leaving hundreds of little kids in tears right there at the entrance.

Not to be deterred by this minor setback, my girlfriend and I set out to find the official Keys merchandise store which was, conveniently, right next to the entrance. After considerable internal debate and struggle, I got myself a flex-fit fitted batting practice hat, and my girlfriend got a very stylish Keys t-shirt.

Harry Grove stadium, like I said earlier, is old. It's not without it's charm, though - it is extremely utilitarian. Entrance. Merch booth. Bathrooms. Hot dog place. Popcorn. Field. There was a fairly large covered seating area behind the left field seats where anyone could go to eat at picnic tables, which was a very nice touch. I chowed down on my footlong corn dog which I could dip in my choice of BBQ sauce or Ranch dressing. Yeah, I said Ranch dressing.

The field is pretty small with rediculously high walls. In fact, I think the walls were at least as high as the York Revolution's "Arch Nemisis" which claims to be the largest wall in professional baseball. You know, if you can't trust independant league baseball promoters, who can you trust?


As you can see, we sat right behind home plate. They were fantastic seats, and the fact that we are able to get incredible seats for about the same price as any other seat at these games is quickly becoming one of my favorite aspects of this minor league excursion. The seats were so good, in fact, that we were sitting right next to the major league scouts, which were easily identifiable due to their Hawaiian shirts and "too cool to be at this game" shades.

The game was a good one between the Keys and the Wilmington Blue Rocks, a Royals affiliate out of Delaware whose stadium we'll be going to next Saturday. I got to see players that I actually knew and had heard about, like Billy Rowell, the O's prospect who I swear to god swung at every single pitch he saw that night, and Mike Moustakas, who has a funny name.


Both teams' uniforms pretty much sucked aside from the fact that they followed the contemporary minor league convention of wearing their socks pulled up with no stirrups. The socks aren't the older white sanitary socks like players used to wear under their stirrups, but rather a one-color sock that's more like a soccer sock than a baseball sock. Everybody wore those stupid things. Everybody, that is, except for the Blue Rocks' manager:


I mean, c'mon - doesn't he look classier than everyone else out there? Its no contest! It's even as though they're all standing around in awe of his awesome hosiery. Yeah, I said hosiery.

The highlight (or lowlight, depending on your point of view) of the trip came when we broke down and bowed to our craving: Chili Cheese Boardwalk Fries, served in a novelty helmet. Take a look at this beautiful specimen:
Is that American or what? Please note that the chili cheese fries could not be stuffed into a standard small novelty batting helmet - they had to make a larger non-Keys branded helmet to accommodate the full glory of the mixture.

The game came down to the last inning, and the Keys won it on a bases-loaded single up the middle by some guy who won't make it to the bigs, and then there were fireworks. They let the kids run around the bases afterwards, but the line to do it literally looked like the line to get on the Sidewinder rollercoaster at Hershey Park the summer that it opened, so I passed on that opportunity.

Good times in Frederick - next week, Delaware. Hey. We're in Delaware. *yawn*

And now, the Keyote and a chubby kid:

Not Everyone Should Have a Blog

Here is Shaquille O'neal's reaction to Manny Ramirez' suspension for testing positive to PED's, which he posted on his Twitter account yesterday:

"Dam manny ramirez, come on man Agggggggggh, agggggggh,agggggh." [sic, obviously]

Wow. You know, I certainly appreciate the man's candor and his attempt to put his frustrations down in what is an obviously difficult medium in which to convey emotion, but...did he really have to type, "Agggggggggh" three times?

Stick to being 7'-million and being in commercials with Ben Stine. Leave the blooging to su pofessunals.

Designated for Assignment, Part I: York Revolution

Sorry for the wait, ladies and gentlemen – I know you have all been sitting on my page hitting refresh for the last weekend waiting for my update. Well, wait no longer.

My girlfriend and I began our journey through the minor and independent league baseball stadiums in the DelMarVa region last Friday with a trip up to lovely York, PA. York is home to the Atlantic League York Revolution, an independent league team that has been around for oh, about two years. I was interested in this game particularly to see the level of play that is in the independent leagues due to the number of ex-major leaguers that choose (or have no choice but) to play in them. Guys like Dewan Brazelton, Hideki Irabu, Oil Can Boyd, Tony Batista, Shawn Chacone, Carl Everett…well, you get the idea. Anyway, it seems like a really interesting mix of guys you have never heard of and will never hear of and crazy flame-outs from the bigs. What more can you ask for to start a baseball road trip?

Well, I can tell you that the whole experience absolutely exceeded my expectations. The stadium was beautiful, the seats were great (and cheap), we got to see Von Hayes, and there was a monkey.

After work on Friday we headed up 83 to York despite a weather report that showed intermittent thunderstorms all night long. There was terrible traffic almost the entire way, but we got into York in plenty of time and set to work following the directions from Google maps. Well, it turns out that those directions were wrong – they led us to a warehouse district downtown whichwas pretty…umm…interesting, but not interesting enough to have a ballpark nearby. So I loaded up the ol’ iPhone and searched for “Sovereign Bank Stadium” and it gave us another address in NW York that was near some parks. Looked good to me, and we were off.

Well, all there was at that location was, well, parks. No ballpark, and nothing that looked like or indicated that there was a ballpark in the immediate vicinity. So Google has now given us two bum locations. How hard is it to point us to a professional league baseball stadium? How many of these things are there in York? So we went straight to the source, which is probably what we should have done in the first place, and checked the Revolution’s website, which told us that the stadium was exactly nowhere near either of the two locations we were told. Weird, but we assumed that they would know where their own ballpark was, so we took their word for it.

Turns out they were right, and we found parking in an abandoned lot across some very forbidding railroad tracks. We missed the first pitch, but it turns out we got to our seats at the right time, because almost as soon as we sat down, the batter hit a foul ball that nearly hit the fat lady that was sitting next to us. I was too disoriented - no, uncoordinated - to catch it myself, but I came damn close.

Sovereign Bank Stadium itself was a very pretty stadium – just built in 2007. There is a huge green wall in left field, which they call the “Arch Nemesis” – which only makes kinda sense because it is near Arch Street…but I still think it’s kinda a lame name. There was this old guy in the stands next to us who led what must have been the Revolution’s version of the Oriole cheer: he would stand up and yell “HIT THE WALL”.

Really, that was it…at first I thought he was saying, “HIT THE BALL”, which was a nice sentiment. You know, nothing too complicated for these independent league players, just HIT THE BALL. But no, he was telling them to HIT THE WALL, which is still a bit baffling but easier to say than HIT IT OVER THE WALL OR IMMEDIATELY TO THE RIGHT OF IT AND IN THE AIR.

The York Revolution themselves were a group of malcontents and thugs, consisting of guys named Brad and Tony who refused to shave off their goatees and bend the brim of their caps more than 2 degrees off straight across. I guarantee that if you were to see these guys in a bar you would immediately hate them, but these are probably the kind of guys who hang out at the Green Turtle to pick up Towson chicks, so you (hopefully) won’t run into them.

What made the team (and trip) worth it was the inimitable leadership of one Chris Hoiles – yes, that Chris Hoiles. As far as unemotional managers go, he was definitely one of the most unemotionalist. Basically he leaned against the rail for a bunch of innings, occasionally consulting with Tippy Martinez (the pitching coach, and yes, THAT Tippy Martinez) and then walking unemotionally out to the mound to switch pitchers. I don’t think that he said one word to any of his players or anyone other than Tippy Martinez the entire game. But like I said, the team was a bunch of losers, so I can’t say I blame him. He did have a nice-looking watch, however.

HIT THE WALL

Of course the highlight of any minor league baseball game is the stuff that goes on between the innings. You know, the non-baseball stuff. The Revolution, I will not hesitate to say, have this facet of the game down pat. They feature, in no particular order:

- A man firing a cannon

- Not one, but two mascots, Reggie and Outfield

- An “Energy” team (yes, that was really their name – basically the interns who thought it would be cool to intern for a baseball team for the summer. Now they’re dancing a hoedown on top of a dugout whilst wearing a policeman hat)

- A man running around in a gigantic, blow-up monkey balloon

- Free Frisbees and t-shirts

- A “knighting” ceremony wherein the PA announcer announces in the worst British accent I have ever heard that one lucky kid gets to be Sir _____ for the night and everyone has to obey him. HAIL SIR _______

- HIT THE WALL

Oh, and I forgot to mention the best part: the fruit race! Here, to the delight of everyone, including me, they trotted out three small kids to run around the bases from first to home. That would probably be comical enough, but then they dressed them up in ridiculously oversized fruit costumes – hilarity ensues. Probably the highlight of the evening.

Plus, add in one comically oversized first base coach, and you have yourself an independent league ballgame.

It was a great time. I bought a York Revolution fitted cap – I think I’ll probably do that for each game I go to – and my girlfriend got herself a Chris Hoiles Revolution t-shirt.

* Note the novelty batting helmet ice cream cup. Classic.

So we’re off to a great start. You stay classy, York PA.

Next Up: HIT THE WALL The Frederick Keys @ Harry Grove Stadium

the Minor League Experiment

Well, I have a new summer project: I'm going to visit all of the minor league baseball stadiums in a drivable radius around Baltimore. Why minor league stadiums, you ask? Well, they're cheap, and so am I.

It's actually kinda sad how few minor league stadiums that I've been to considering how many are in the state of Maryland alone. I'm pretty sure I've only been to Harry Grove (heh) Stadium in Frederick once and I pretty much spent my childhood at Municipal Stadium in Hagerstown. But that's it - I have to go see Bowie, and Delmarva, and Aberdeen, and Waldorf just to get current on the stadiums in Maryland. Plus there's a few in Southern PA, Delaware, and West Virginny. So it will be a busy summer - I plan on going to one every weekend.

As of this writing, my wonderful girlfriend is acting like she's excited about the whole thing. I'll give her credit for that. Once we have to start driving 5 hours to see a shitty short-season A-ball team in southern WV though...well we'll see where we are.

But who wouldn't be excited about our first game: the York Revolution's home opener next Friday! Fireworks! Cheap seats! Fat men dancing in between innings! York PA! It's going to be great, I guarantee it. And the best part - we're sitting in the third row from the field on the first base side. Price: $10.

So I'll try to update the ol' blog when I get back from these trips with some pictures and info about the stadium and our fun-filled getaways. Something to look forward to. Oh, that and midgets in the batters box.

Where Your Humble Blogger Loses All Dignity

Well, I did it.

Let me take that back: They made me do it.

I never started out wanting an iPhone.

I never wanted to feed into the massive corporate machine that is Apple.

I never wanted to validate their closed architecture operating systems and regimented control over all third-party apps.

I never wanted to validate this guy:

But, alas, I did. But I maintain that it was everyone else who made me do it. It was LG, and Samsung, and Blackberry, and Palm, and Nokia, and Windows Mobile, and everyone else who just can't seem to make a phone that is even remotely in the same league as the iPhone.

I read plenty of reviews on the iPhone before I exchanged my LG Incite for it, and most of them basically said this:

Cons: Can't copy and paste text, battery life good but not spectacular...ummm...the case isn't aluminum anymore?

Pros: It is a phone that works right the first time and is actually fun to use.

Seriously - go read them for yourselves. I'm not saying the iPhone is perfect; no one is. But the crux of the issue is that the iPhone kicks everyone's ass on the features that actually matter to everyone. I mean, I kinda enjoyed having to edit the registry of my Incite to make it run Internet Explorer a little bit quicker, but in reality I'm much happier playing around in the app store and flicking between my home pages. I mean, I kinda enjoyed trying to figure out why the microphone on my phone would cut out after I loaded Windows Live Search, but in reality I'm much happier watching Shazaam do its crazy magical song-finding shit.

It pains me to write this, it really does. And when it comes to computers, I will always be a PC nerd because I like fucking with all that stuff. But I'm sticking with the iPhone because it works.


ooh plus it has a level and a flashlight~!

Commenta non Grata

So I learned yesterday that I had the ol' settin's on my settin's page set to have it that only registered users could post comments on my ol' blog-o-spherical page. Well, it has never been my intention to stifle creativity or constructive criticism - every one knows I take criticism extremely well - so rest easy tonight with the knowledge that as of 8:18 this morning anyone can post anything in the comments section.

Seriously, it's not even moderated. For now. Until you start criticizing me too much.

Enjoy.

...And That Happened

I think that one of the things that makes baseball hard to follow for people that aren't really into it is the fact that so much stuff happens on every single night throughout the 162-game season. A typical weekday night might have as many as 10-12 games going on, and even skimming the headlines at ESPN you'll probably miss a thing or two along the way. And the thing is, absolutely cool stuff happens every single night in the major leagues.

I can't believe no one else out there does anything quite like this, but I'm really glad that Craig Calcaterra does. Every day, he updates his blog with a post called "And That Happened", which provides the final score, a quick comment, and a link to each game that was played the day before. It's simple, funny, and a ridiculously easy way to make people think that you follow baseball religiously. Check it out.

An Update

Hi, all. So I've heard recently that there are actually people who read this thing, so I figure I'd give everyone an update on the goings-on in my interesting little existence. A State-of-the-Blog, if you will.

- I recently went against my self-imposed edict and bought a nice, new cell phone. I always told myself that I would only buy the cheapest, most utilitarian phones possible, because no one ever calls me, and I don't want to worry about losing something that cost me a pretty penny. Well, I threw all that out of the window and bought a brand f-ing new LG Incite. Its a touchscreen phone - kinda their version of the iPhone. I've since spent the last two weeks trying my hardest to modify it to look and act like an iPhone. Why didn't you just buy an iPhone, you ask? Well, shut up.

Seriously, though. It bugs the hell out of me that no other company on this planet apparently has half of the brains and ingenuity of Apple. I want to believe that other companies can make a comparable product to the iPod and iPhone, but every time I act on that assumption, it comes back to bite me in the ass. My LG phone's screen is touch sensitive, but not reliable or consistent. It's not pretty, at least until I put some skins on it to make it pretty like an iPhone. Its slow. It has actually frozen up on me. I have to fuck around with the settings at least once a day. Now, remember, I love to do these things, but goddman no wonder Apple is selling iPhones like they are liquid sex, you fucking idiots. Your products are pieces of trash!!! All they have to do to beat you is to make a phone that doesn't lock up and actually respond in a coherent way to what people want it to do!!!

Okay, sorry for the rant. Back to work.

- I'm finishing up my very first "solo" album. It will have six songs on it that have all been recorded by my friends and me. I'm fairly proud of it, and I'm happy about the fact that I created a project for myself to work on out of thin air and have followed through on it. Good for me. Gold star.

- The Orioles are 4-1. They beat the defending AL champion Rays last night 6-0. Awesome.

- I went to my friend's bachelor party last night at a strip club downtown. While I did enjoy seeing the naked ladies, I just couldn't get into it the same way I used to when I was 18 and we would drive down to West Virginia and drink beers in the back of our cars in the parking lot and then try to wash off the X's on our hands and get caught trying to buy drinks at the bar. It just seemed to be a pretty big waste of money and time. Hmm. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, however, so it might just be me. I'm pretty sure it's just me.

- My girlfriend and I just got ourselves new helmets for the upcoming scooter season, so look forward to actual blog posts about scootering, which is, after all, what this whole blog was supposed to be about when I started it a year ago. Now, you all just listen to me bitch about iPhones. Shame on you for letting me stray so far from my vision!

Now to bring it all home, a picture of a duck with George Bush's head on it:























Shame on you all.

A blog from the road

This entry is being typed from my brand new cell phone. I don't really have too much to say, except for: good for me, and goddamn is it hard to type on this screen. I'll have to reserve this for ultra-important posts only, which none of them are. Oh well. At least I can say I did it. ttyl brb lol rotfl ggpc

Opening Day

What do you mean nobody else cares?

Yessir, Opening Day was yesterday, and what an Opening Day it was. The Orioles won, 10-5, over an especially ass-hat-ish Yankees lineup that included Mr. and Mrs. Paycheck, C.C. Sabathia and Mark Texiera. The mood was great at the yard, and not even a crappy sound system (not installed by my company) nor a torrental downpour could ruin the day.

.........

Well, I had a whole bunch of cool pictures that I was going to crop and resize and tell you all about, but it appears as though my computer has deleted them. This is exactly why I never do this shit. There was a guy with a Mark McLemore jersey! Mark McLemore! Now no one will ever believe me...damn it.

It has Sprung

Baseball is back!

Well, kinda. The Braves played the Phillies last night and whooped up on them courtesy of a bunch of homeruns off of poor ol' Brett Myers. Its not completely Brett's fault, though...I mean, look at those eyebrows. That's got to make it pretty difficult to pitch.

Anyway, I'm happy because my wonderful girlfriend got us two tickets to Opening Day today, and despite the fact that the forecast calls for "thunderstorms, strong winds, hail, and a plague of locusts" I'll actually be watching live Orioles baseball today. Hopefully.

I'm bringing my batteries to chuck at Mark Texiera's head, though it would be quite the toss I would have to make to hit him from our seats. But when there's a will, there's a way.

Goh Oh's!

omg two posts today

Okay, so I'm a little bit bored already at work and while I initially thought that I wasn't going to do one of these things, I've since broken down.

Here are 25 things you may not know about me.

1. I consider learning how to cup my hands and make a birdcall sound at Boy Scout camp one of the major accomplishments of my life.
2. I can juggle, a little bit.
3. I went to my first Major League Baseball game when I was 10, in 1991. It was at Memorial Stadium in Baltimore, and I remember absolutely nothing about it. Seriously. The only recollection I have is a mental picture of a run-down Baltimore neighborhood that my dad had to drive through to get there.
4. I know I definitely went to that game because it was free Memorial Stadium duffel bag night, sponsored by Texaco System3. I had that bag and used it to haul my music accessories around until it was stolen last year. Pretty amazing that a shitty free plastic duffel bag lasted me 17 years when I can't make a pair of jeans get through 8 months.
5. I secretly like chai tea, but never order it because I'm afraid of looking like a fag.
6. The names of the bands that I have been a part of in my life: Steve Never Came, Melting Pott, Ice Age Children, the Parking Meters, the Reliants, the Bagshots, the Safeword Club, Brougham Jack (lol), and Poly/Western.
7. The first band name I ever came up with: Concrete Rain. I thought that was the coolest name in the world. I don't anymore.
8. The city that I would most like to live in: Charlottesville, VA. In my mind, the weather is always perfect there, everyone is nice, and it is the perfect blend of big and small city feel. In reality, its probably not, but don't shit on my dream.
9. I love baseball, baseball statistics, and read about baseball history on a daily basis, but I have never been to the Hall of Fame, I don't know what position Micky Lolich played, and I regularly get bored watching baseball games on TV.
10. I like sushi, but I really just like it because soy sauce is involved. I could do without the raw fish.
11. I regularly avoid small deli's and lunch places because I hate looking like an idiot trying to figure out their individual ordering systems.
12. I abhor the concept of mass capitalism and the mega-corporation but I love Starbucks and Target, and I buy cheap Chinese-made goods all the time.
13. I spent five years studying music and history in college, but I have forgotten nearly everything that I learned there.
14. I enjoy playing ambient, dissonant, and 'experimental' music because its fucking easy and you can't make mistakes.
15. The thought of having a huge house with modern conveniences and a really expensive sports car in the suburbs is appealing to me, as much as I wish it wasn't.
16. The most embarrassing moment of my life occurred when I was probably 7 or 8 and I went to a friend's house to play video games. I had to go to the bathroom (number 2) and I used their bathroom that for some reason you had to go through to get to the basement. While I was in the act, my friend's mom came up the stairs from the basement and opened the door to the bathroom. The details are a bit hazy, but I distinctly remember her yelling at me and telling me that I shouldn't be doing that there. I immediately ran the entire way home and never went back over to his house.
17. I love the smell of a lit and burning cigarette but abhor the smell of musty and old smoke.
18. Every time I smell one of those "New Car Smell" pine tree air fresheners it reminds me of the time this crackhead I used to hang out with took my car and got it washed and detailed for me.
19. I have trouble remembering events from my childhood, as well as the details of recent events, and I am very scared that as an older person I won't be able to tell any good stories like old people should.
20. I used to think that I was a pretty normal and 'cool' kid, but I recently looked at an old photograph album of myself with my girlfriend and I realized for the first time that I was a complete and absolute nerd, from head to toe.
21. I work for an A/V company, studied music and audio recording in school, and understand the physics behind sound reproduction systems, but the fact that a speaker can make all that music sound real when it is just a cone that vibrates back and forth completely baffles me.
22. Strong wind irritates me more than pretty much anything in this world.
23. I love to write, and I've been told I'm a good writer, but many times when I'm writing a blog I find myself getting too bored to finish the whole thing and will just stop short. See the blog entry below this one for a perfect example.
24. I don't understand the concept of 'perfect legs' and/or 'perfect ass' when it comes to women. I have never looked at a woman and said, 'Oh my god, look at her legs/ass'. I don't know what good legs or asses look like. I know what bad asses look like, but thats about it.
25. For the first time in my life, I am pretty satisfied with who I am, what I'm doing, and where I'm going.

Back in the Saddle

Mileage: 932
Time: No idea

Yeah, that's right - you read that correctly. The scooter is back! Today I optimistically rolled out my scooter and rode it to work for the first time in about four months. I say optimistically because it is supposed to rain today and it was probably about 49 degrees out this morning - not optimal riding conditions, but I was too excited to not take it out today.

And I suppose now is the time to let all of my adoring fans know that I have moved and am no longer taking my old route from downtown Baltimore north to Hampden. I'm now up with the yuppies and college kids in Belvedere/Govans/Rosebank/Towson South/whateveryouwanttocallit Northeast Baltimore. I love the new place and I love the location, but I have to say I am so far extremely disappointed with the commute. Let me give you a point of reference:


View Larger Map

I can hear all of you saying, "Wow, that sure does look like a nice easy commute. You must be so pleased to take such a pleasurable and pleasing route to and from work each day. How pleasant!"

Well, I can tell you that the route above is the result of a damn-near scientific period of trial and error over the last two weeks. And it is perfect. It is the best possible permutation of possible routes from my house through the hoity-toity neighborhoods to work. So yeah, its fairly pleasurable.

But the first few times I went were not. If you look at the map, the simplest and most direct route would be to take Northern Parkway west to Roland Ave., and then shoot South to Hampden. But all is not as it seems...Northern Parkway is a sonovabitch. Especially in the morning. Especially at 7:45 in the morning, which is when I go to work. There are four or five schools in that general vicinity, and they all hold up traffic and have weird special lights and generally make the trip absolute hell. I tried this way first, and it took me a half hour to get to work, which is twice as long as it used to take me to get to work from downtown. I was not a happy camper.

To make a long and boring story short, I tried every other conceiveable way between the two locations and settled on this one...its not perfect, I'm sure, but its close, and it doesn't leave me wanting to rip the heads off of small animals when I'm done. Or maybe I just got lucky today and there wasn't much traffic. I'll let you know.

Chips.

I like potato chips. A lot. I always have. I like the taste, their portability, their wide availability and low price, and the sensation of eating a crunchy chip. Its a good time all-around. But what I really like about chips the most is.......the seasoning on the chip.

Don't get me wrong, I like the flavor of fried potatos, but it is the crazy crap that they put on top that makes it for me. Sure, I'll eat a couple plain potato chips, but those rare occasions are typically reserved for backyard barbeques, parties, or church functions - anywhere where there's the ubiquitous bowl of chips next to the bowl of pretzels and jug of lemonade. But I would never just buy a bag of plain potato chips at the store to eat at home...I mean - look at all the options out there:

What proper American could look at all of those options and conclude, "You know what, I'm going to go with Lay's original (non-ruffled)"? If, and this is a big if, you were to simultaneously purchase one of those little sour cream and onion or nacho cheese chip dip cans to eat with your plain potato chips, I might let it slide, but those little things are expensive.

And unnecessary in this day and age. Chip manufacturers have realized that people my age buy a lot of chips, and we like the craziest damn flavors you can get. I mean, have you ever been to the Doritos website? How cool is that?

Taco and Ranch dressing?Why the hell not?

Bloody Mary?
No trans fat! Healthy!

I bet they would never make General Tso's flavor chips, he said haughtily.


BAM

These things are great...I've had all three of these chips, and they do not disappoint. Manufacturers seem to be latching on to the whole 'kettle cook'd' theme pioneered (at least in my mind) by Utz under the 'Grandma Utz' label. I happen to think this is a great development as I prefer my chips to be as thick and over-cooked as possible. Make 'em a half-inch thick and halfway burnt with the skin still on it, I say. And make them all like the ones at the bottom of the bag that have way too much seasoning on them. I'm not alone, right?

I do have to warn you about one recent new product now on the market - not really a chip, but the same concept...

The flavored pretzel chip. These guys caught my eye and piqued my interest, as I love the Snyders of Hanover's flavored pretzel pieces, but I would like them in a more manageable form. Don't be lured in by their Siren song. These things are horrible. The pretzel chip part is fine, but the flavoring literally tastes like gym socks or mildew or something else that's rotten. I mean disgusting. And thanks to the excessive amounts of seasoning they put on them, that lovely aftertaste stays with you all night long.

So chip wisely, my friends.

Prom, Part Deux

So tonight, I'm going back to prom. This will actually make my third trip (but I don't know what comes after Deux, so I had to lie in my title line. Trois? Is that it? Is that French?) to prom in my life. My friend Alex and his fiancee are having a prom-themed birthday tonight and, as such, I now have a chance to relive the glory days of high school all over again.

wait

No, high school pretty much sucked. And come to think of it, so did the two proms that I attended. Well, actually not the second one. I got to go with my girlfriend at the time, wear an ultra-cool white tux, and ride in a classic Rolls-Royce limo. So that was fun. But the first one was not as great. I can't remember where the hell we ate, I went with a girl who was very nice but not a great friend of mine, or even someone I hung out with, and to be honest I don't remember much other than that it was somewhere in Chambersburg.

Anyway, I'll try to make a better go at it this time. Pictures forthcoming. Honestly, I just like the fact that I have an excuse to wear a tux and go out to eat.

High School Coaches are Asses

In case you haven't seen this, apparently a High School women's basketball coach in Texas has been fired for allowing his team to beat a school of "handicapped" girls 100-0.

I have very mixed feelings about this...first of all, and lets get this out of the way: the school is not for "handicapped" girls, at least not in the physical sense. And really not in the psychological sense, either. It has garnered a reputation for being especially good at helping kids with learning disabilities, such as ADD or dyslexia. So any story that you read that tries to heap on the sympathy for these girls is, in my opinion, a load of shit. It is true that the team is winless this season, and has been for the last four seasons, but you can't blame only being able to take seven shots in an entire game on a reading disorder. Shit, Jim Abbott only had one arm and he pitched a no-hitter.

But all that aside, it is still a pretty fucked up case. My high school in Pennsylvania was just large enough to force us to play in a division that included larger schools from Harrisburg, York, Gettysburg, etc...teams that were much, much, much, much, much, much, much better than us. I think our football team won 3 games the entirety of my high school career. I played soccer, and we would routinely get beat 8 or 9 to 0. But I rarely felt as though the other team was running up the score. Sure, they would get excited that they were playing shitty little Waynesboro Area Senior High and would score a pantload in the first half, but then the coach would settle them down, put in their shitty players, and then they would continue scoring at a much reduced rate. We sucked, but we realized it was our own fault - not theirs for having a bit of fun at our expense.

But 100-0?

How do you play four quarters of basketball and not allow the other team to score one point, while you are scoring a ton (especially for women's basketball), and not realize that you may be putting the pressure on a bit too hard? I mean, when I used to play my little brother when I was in shape and he was still like 10 or something, he would still score a point or two to my 21. You really have to be putting the pressure on to have the other team not be able to put up one point in four quarters.

So, when I read that the fired coach is completely unapologetic, and claims that his girls were playing within the spirit of the game, I have to respectfully disagree. Most high school coaches were players themselves at one point...and a great majority of them were failed players at some point. Otherwise, they probably wouldn't be coaching at a girl's school in the middle of Texas. I understand that most of them take their coaching responsibilities a bit too seriously. But it takes a special kind of ass-hat to not think that putting that hard of a beating on another team is within the "spirit of the game".

I dunno. Women's basketball sucks anyway.