a haloween fact

A pumpkin
Can look like Paul Newman
If it has big eyes

Baseball 2007: a jumbled epilogue

... Run on sentences pulled from the realizations that the games are over...

...I am a little bit worried about what the World Series is becoming. Over the last 4 years of a possible minimum of 16 games, there has been 17 player ('04 Boston swept St. Louis, '05 Chicago swept Houston, '06 St. Louis beat Detroit in 5, and now in '07 Boston sweeps again). Now you can chalk this up to the American League being a better league over that last decade on paper. But we all know "on paper" is rarely the way the games play out.
I think that a huge part of what is effecting these lopsided WS is the damn extended layoff. I blame this largely on network television and MLB wanting the series to start midweek, so there are less weekend games and therefore more people watching... more ad dolllars... blah, blah, blah... I mean the Red Sox had a 2 day layoff before the series started! Why? This lets everyone get their pitching in line and although that maybe make it a bit more "fair" in theory... what it does is let you win relying on a few guys instead of going deep into your rotation... now this WS both teams used 4 different starters so that doesnt really come into play this year, but it could have. The Sox could have used Beckett 1, 4, 7 if they had to.
The big thing is the Layoff. It derailed Detroit last year and it Derailed Colorado this year... I am not sure that the Rockies would have beat Boston or not... but I would have love to see the team that won 21 of 22 play the red hot Red Sox instead of the tenative, free swinging bunch of Rockies that showed up. It wasnt even fair. Put it into perspective, these guys play for 6 months with on average a day off every week. 1 day off... sure there is the 3 day all star break, a mini-vacation, but that is factored in from the preseason and happens year after year... you even hear guys that are going good dreading the all star break, because they are afraid it will throw off their timing... Now take a team that is red hot and say, "Ok, you don't have a game for 8 days!" have fun in the batting cage and with the INNER SQUAD GAMES!!! it is ridiculous! I hate it! It makes me so mad! I am sure this has to do a bit with what happened to the Tigers last year, and that that wound hasn't totally healed yet... but I just want to see a competive World Series... I remember 2001 a 7 game world series! Louis Gonzalez blooping in the winning run! that is how it should be... that is the fall classic... it seems to me, that in the networks attempt to manipulate the Series, they are watering it down. They want more ad money, just let it be and let baseball bloom the magic that it is want to do... seems to me that have 5, 6, or 7 games would present more opportunity for ad revenue than your modern day 4 game sweep any how...

Also, as I routinely fell asleep on my couch in the 7th inning watching this World Series, I thought about the 8 year old kids. How the hell are they supposed to watch their heroes on the grand stage that is October? In the East it is past midnight when these games are over. Is it too much to ask to have the weekend games start in the afternoon? Everyone knows bunting looks better in natural sunlight anyhow. It would be a flashback to the way it "used" to be... which always seems to be better... but they didnt have the big TV contracts back then to overcome did they...

The memory of watching your favorite team win the World Series, that was a childhood memory that is carved in stone in my mind. A cornerstone of my youth. It saddens me that there will be a whole generation of youth that will have a memory of when their hometown team won the World Series how exciting it was to watch it all on SportsCenter the next morning. It's all so conveinent, so encapsulated, none of the suspense, none of the throws over to first base, none of the meetings on the mound, none of the strategy, none of the peaks and valleys that make the game great... just a 4 minute wrap up, this is some of what happened, back to you Bob. A text message to the written letter. The sad part is that so many of those kids will mistake that "some of what happened" for what happened. It's the decay of our society in the parlance of our times... and so it goes... riding the conveinence train, down the drain ...

...Scott Boras is an Ass!
One last thing, Jeanne Zelasko is absolutely terrible! Can anyone argue that?

This has been one small man's reaction to his first day without baseball in 8 months.
God Bless Ernie Harwell,
God Bless the Detroit Tigers,
and God Bless Baseball!

and we laughed...

The man, whom I can only guess to be homeless, walked south down Woodward Avenue. Through the window he spotted me standing behind the bar. He promptly gave me the finger...no, the double finger. The double finger is when you raise both hands and give the finger with both. He waited for a response. When he got none he shook his head in disappointment and walked away, south down Woodward.

Later that very same evening, he returned. This time he was walking north up Woodward Avenue. He knocked on the glass. When I looked his way, he again gave me the double finger. This time I returned fire with a double finger of my own. He smiled and walked away, north up Woodward.

Two days later as I was standing behind the bar I heard a knock upon the window. I looked up to find the same gentleman (a term I use loosely) standing at the window. He raised his fists, and then his middle fingers...the double finger. I felt as if he were saying "fuck you" and at the same "I don't mean it buddy." I returned the favor. I was saying to him "fuck you" and at the same time "I don't mind playing this game with you, but still...fuck you." He smiled and walked away, south down Woodward. I haven't seen this individual in a few days now but am confident he will be walking the Woodward path one day soon. When he does, I'll be ready and waiting to flip him off...and I know he'll be ready too.

Dirty toes found in clean socks

Some time ago right here on this site a friend of mine spoke of an experience he had with a bum. Said bum showed that although the downtrodden of the world may be lacking in the material possessions department, they more than make up for it with their candor and wit.

This got me thinking about life, bums, and my experiences with the two. I too have had my run-ins with those-who-lack-an-abode and for the most part these encounters have been positive. Be it the legless dread-locked hobo that smiled at my two little kids outside the ballpark to all those bums who aided my friends and I in our quest for booze back in high-school. Transients in general have been good to me.

So as I reminisced it hit me that these men of the earth have taught me a great deal. Well not a great deal but when you reek like high hell your expectations for them ought to be low.

The derelict performing on an upturned pickle-bucket outside the Majestic theater years ago came to mind. He showed me that red wine greatly impairs my sense of rhythm but to hold fast that entertainment is made up of more than just skill. You can't put a price on showmanship but he'd gladly take the handful of coins rotting at the bottom of your purse.

Another such gentleman whose ancestors resided on the continent of Africa demonstrated to me the old adage that one should not judge a book by its cover. This wise soul was assisting a group of high school boys in the procurement of spirits in exchange for a ride, which is another lesson in and of itself about a free market economy. As we rode through the dingy streets of Pontiac he told us all about his intense love for Joe Cocker. Image my surprise in knowing that a middle-aged black man found immense joy in the music of an elder statesman of British rock. It was as if I was seeing for the very first time.

The gutter-pups I have come across through my time on earth have shown me that life is about much more than a place to live. Life is about people and how you treat them. I say go find yourself a bum, give them a pat on the shoulder, a dollar, and thank them for being around.

James Taylor Invents Deadly Kung Fu Move

No. Look closer.

I stood by when Hot Wheels turned plastic. I trudged
on through the jelly bracelet craze, the
fall of jelly bracelets and their hasty
yet triumphant return. I watched a lot
of Star Trek The Next Generation.

But my faith is tested by this man. Who
had an ear surgically implanted in his
left forearm. I have a tattoo on my left
forearm. He has an ear.

I know what you're thinking. Couldn't I
apply this cliche: "Ya know. He and I
are not so different after all?". But I
am afraid I cannot. I don't have an ear
in my arm.

I've worn a dress. I've slept under a
car. I've been heralded as a creative
genius, likewise a heartless thug. And
my journey is not yet complete.

This guy implanted an ear in his arm and
promises to artificially activate its
hearing capabilities. He'll likely succeed and revel in his accomplishments. And children will watch his smug victory dance in prime time. But I'm not fooled.

Ear arms are overrated.

See the full story here...

the kirbys

The Kirby salesperson stopped by today. Goddamn pink slips and an entourage of wares. A demonstration? Clean a room? Why not? Get down on it. I'll settle into a low-end rye while you paw around on all fours and assemble...
One assembly and 3 hours later, a $1600 vacuum seemed like the only way I could make the Reginalds across the street proud. I mean, look at Al Gore now. Won the popular vote of a U.S. presidential election. Given an Oscar. Received a Nobel Peace Prize. His neighbors must have a 22-hour erection for him. (Al rested on the 23rd and 24th hour). He invented the freakin' internet for crying out loud.
For crying out loud, come back to me. Can't you see I cannot breathe?
Truly, Deeply,
H

remembered

My wife and I sat on the couch. The room was quiet, relaxed. The television was barely on. Abruptly, her head snapped to the side and stayed as such, as if she were staring out through the window and into the maples. She looked calm, almost pleased…yet there was the faintness of concern around her eyes.
“What’s wrong” I ask, wondering what she had caught from the corner of her eye.
She doesn’t acknowledge me for a moment. And then: “Nothing,” as she turns back to the television and our relaxed quietude. “Just an acid flashback…”

reunited...

...and it feels so good.

Neil Young’s boot made it back to my doorstep today. All the sweat and sweet bourbon in the world couldn’t have made me happier. I took it as it rightly was: a symbol, a metaphor, a confidant. We peddled our nonsensical wares to one another.

After urging from the boot, I went into town and proposed to the woman I spend time with. A girl really, but the aging process would remedy that sooner or later.

With Detroit on my mind, I said good-bye to my would-be child bride and headed north. Confident that Neil Young’s boot would find me once again. Perhaps.

inco-heren...sisty...ness...

When you've poured everything you've got into being one of the greatest writer/poets of the 20th Century, you must have nothing left to talk to the cameras with.

The 10 Most Incomprehensible Bob Dylan Interviews (as defined by New York Magazine)

Kim Jong-Il at Target

I thought I saw Kim Jong-Il in the parking lot of Target today. I doubt that it was the real Kim Jong-Il, because I have been seeing his face all over the news with reports of the Korean summit. This man looked a lot like him though, which is not all that common at the Target where I shop. I was at the Target to buy a bathroom scale as I am preparing to increase the frequency that I weigh myself.

With weight and Kim Jong-Il dancing a slow dance in my mind, it wasn't long before I started to wonder how much the average Korean weighs and then I wondered how much the average American weighs. The mental picture that was in my head shifted to a picture of a very skinny Kim Jong-Il dancing with a morbidly obese Target employee. Luckily for me this scene also included a lonely wallflower, named the internet. I asked him to weigh in on the subject. This is what he told me.

It was loud in there, the Kenny Loggins tune that Kim Jong-Il and the Target employee were dancing to was really cranked, so I asked him again and his answer was this.

The average weight in the US is 163 lb for women and 190 lb for men
The average weight in Finland* is: 88 lb for women and 183 lb for men

I found this shocking, Women in Finland and Korea weigh almost half what women in the US weigh? Holy shit that is crazy, I thought!

With that in mind I decided to by the cheapest scale they had. $14.99. It was white, I wanted it to be stainless steel, but you can't win em all. I bought a personal cheese pizza at the Pizza Hut inside Target on my way out. I ate it in the car. When I came out of the store Kim Jong-Il wasn't in the parking lot anymore, poor bastard probably had to fly home to tend to his malnourished Finnish wife.

*Finland was substituted for Korea because the weight chart that was referenced only included USA, Canada, Finland, and the UK. Since Finland seemed less like the other 3 it was selected as the substitute. Scientifically selected, mind you.

Page 123, sentences 5-7

To be in the self means to be apart, to be separate. To be in the self means to become an island. To be in the self means to draw a boundary line around you.

Osho Zen Tarot
Osho

Page 123, sentences 5-7

"And then," according to Mr. Helm's memory of the episode, "somebody asked him was he a hitchhiker? Hitchhiking his way to New Mexico? No, he said, he was driving his own car.

In Cold Blood
Truman Capote

Page 123, sentences 5-7

The strings are tightened by four huge wooden knobs, man, which looks like ears. It is the weirdest fucking instrument I have ever seen, man, and when you play it it sounds like you are choking a hundred Chinamen. The incredible moon-lute is tuned, man, with the saxophone and trombone.

The Fan Man
By William Kotzwinkle

Page 123, sentences 5-7

Ads promoted the roadability of the '27 Stutz. Lush, low Weymann Flexible Bodies enhanced its appeal. Thin wires in the safety glass could actually be seen.

History of the American Automobile
By the Auto Editors of Consumer Guide