I got some season seats for the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim (more on that abomination of a name later) game last night. I called up a few friends and we were off to the Big A to watch...well, I went to watch the Twins...the Angels play. What I got was a reminder in just how predictable we as Americans can be. The following stadium cliche activities were in full effect in Anaheim last night:
1) Jumbotron aping. What is it about the camera that causes men, women, and children to think they can dance, experience facial convulsions, and put two fingers behind everyone's head? Oh, and point to their jersey and raise the index finger?
2) "Kissing Cam" Have you seen this one? The clever AV dropouts that run the Jumbotron put a little template over the screen in the shape of a heart attempting to entice the two people within it's tractor-beam like shape to kiss one another. Of course, the best of this activity is when they either erroneously pair two people together, or the woman shuns her man. "Her man" got shunned twice last night. She said "no" once, and the clever cameraman decided that after a minute, she'd acquiesce. No dice. Derisive chuckling from 40,007 fans.
3) And how do I know there were 40,007 fans there? I took a quiz! Yes! The great attendance quiz. This test is usually administered sometime in the 6th inning, after the game is considered "official" and no notes are allowed. The great thing about this quiz is that of the four choices [these were the options last night: a) 40,005; b) 40,006; c) 40,007; and d) 40,008] EVERYONE in the stadium got it right! Not only did they get it right, but they all felt the need to jump up, cheer, and high-five each other, congratulating themselves for their incredible ability to correctly estimate the size of a crowd of over 40,000 to within one person. I was impressed.
4) The video baserunning race. The three contestants last night were Captain Baseball, The King, and some other also-ran. Once again, clever AV dudes, with the aid of graphic art school dropouts, summon all their creative energies and create a fictitious cartoon race around the basepaths as 40,007 fans cheer on (give or take about 5000 who are busy in the urinal or at the biergarten). Once again, all those who were cheering were able to correctly ascertain that Captain Baseball was going to be the winner as evidenced by the aformentioned jumping up, cheering and high-fiving. People in Orange County are so smart.
5) T-SHIRTS!!! OVER HERE!!! The latest craze is an air-rifle version of the t-shirt thrown into the audience. This gives hope to the thousands of fans that weren't seated 12 rows behind third like we were...those in the upper deck...because now eye-candy promotions girl can actually "throw" a canned t-shirt as high as the second deck. We were hoping to see someone dive for it and end up on the lower deck, but not everyone's that hopped up over a giveaway shirt. Thank goodness.
6) I will kill you for this foul ball! I love foul balls. I don't love them in my section...I just love to watch the melee that ensues when one ends up in the stands. I watched as two guys gouged each others' eyes over a 2-1 pitch fouled off by Justin Morneau of the Twins. That's a souvenir you'll be talking about for decades. Eat your heart out "Guy Who Caught Hank Aaron's 755th!"
7) Bratwurst. Okay. This one is actually a good reason to be at the game. This is, to me, the menu at Angels stadium: Bratwurst and "crap that isn't bratwurst." Thankfully, the good folks in Anacrime figured out that there are enough of us midwesterners out here to merit a good link at the ballpark.
It wasn't such a bad night after all. Oh, and by the way, the home team cheated and won 4-3 in extra innings.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Lord Stanley's Beautiful Cup
It's the time of the season for cupping. At the beginning of this past NHL season, I contacted my satellite TV provider and upgraded to the package that would give me OLN, who had replaced ESPN as the network of the NHL in the US. About two weeks into the season, OLN (owned, apparently, by Comcast) upped their fee demands of auxiliary providers. My satellite provider dumped them.I was more than a little upset.
Gratefully I live in a major market and the local FSN affiliate shows both Kings and Ducks games...sometimes on the same evenings on FSN1 and FSN2. I was in hockey heaven...well...not "heaven" but at least some transcendent reality location. When one of those teams played in the Eastern Conference, I would get a game at 5 and another at 8. Nice. But still not OLN. And definitely not ESPN.
I miss listening to Gary Thorne and Bill Clement call a game together. They are the best US broadcast hockey duo in my opinion.
Well, I got a reprieve. OLN, by some fluke of luck, was reinstated just prior to the beginning of the Stanley Cup Playoffs (not called "the postseason" folks...that's for other lame sports). After last night's 3-OT game three in Edmonton, I realized just how lucky I am.
Is there anything better in pro sports than a hockey overtime playoff game? No time outs. No commercial breaks (sorry soccer...the sport has to be exciting to qualify). Guys slugging it out. Retro official calls (as in, we'll let 'the players play'). Sudden death. Oh, and Ottawa-Buffalo games that only offer us 18 seconds of overtime don't qualify either.
Thank you NHL. Thank you Lord Stanley for the greatest trophy in professional sports.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Jurisprudence
Happy Juror Appreciation Week to me! I was summoned for jury duty for a "special case" this week. "Special" is legalese for "you can't get out of it or get a postponement." I made the trek to San Bernardino County Courthouse in lovely San Bernardino, CA today. Normally I'm summoned to the courthouse more close to home...as in only three miles away...but not for the "special" case.
I've served on a jury in the past, as an alternate. Alternate is legalese for "you get to sit in and take notes like everyone else, but you most likely won't be involved in the deliberation unless another juror gets violently ill or blabs about the case so thanks for coming." Some things have changed. Now, in the juror waiting room, you get to watch a snazzy video that highlights all of the wonderful things the State of California (self-proclaimed in the video as "The Best State in the Union"...to which I wanted to stand and say, "I object, Your Honor" until I realized there was no judge present). After some nature shots, we get to see criminals in handcuffs, cops on the beat and the narration says "but we sometimes have disputes." Disputes? Hilarious. Sometimes? Ummm...
The video ended and we were entertained by Judge Garza, who thanked us for coming in during "Juror Appreciation Week" a.k.a. JAW (I got a pen). I was originally planning on coming in last week. When I heard that this was JAW, I knew I had to come in this week...either that, or my summons told me to come in this week. Interestingly enough, my wife mentioned that a woman we know was summoned for the same trial, reported yesterday, and had to stay until 4:00 p.m. (SPOILER ALERT!) I went in today and was released by 2:00 p.m. Apparently my skills were not needed this time, so I got my pink slip (a good thing here, a bad thing at the employment office), and returned home happy in knowing that, for all intents and purposes, this could very well have been my last trip to a courthouse in California (in this capacity).
I'm not sure about the name of the court video, but in true California style, there were about five minutes of credits at the end. I've never seen something like that have the credits. I think they wanted us to know that no incarcerated individuals, although available, were harmed in the production of the movie. Best quote from the show (referring to jury service): "It wasn't bad at all. I'd do it again." (Meanwhile, the woman in front of me rubs her Rosary beads and mumbles something about God not picking her.)
Happy JAW to all, and to all a good case!
I've served on a jury in the past, as an alternate. Alternate is legalese for "you get to sit in and take notes like everyone else, but you most likely won't be involved in the deliberation unless another juror gets violently ill or blabs about the case so thanks for coming." Some things have changed. Now, in the juror waiting room, you get to watch a snazzy video that highlights all of the wonderful things the State of California (self-proclaimed in the video as "The Best State in the Union"...to which I wanted to stand and say, "I object, Your Honor" until I realized there was no judge present). After some nature shots, we get to see criminals in handcuffs, cops on the beat and the narration says "but we sometimes have disputes." Disputes? Hilarious. Sometimes? Ummm...
The video ended and we were entertained by Judge Garza, who thanked us for coming in during "Juror Appreciation Week" a.k.a. JAW (I got a pen). I was originally planning on coming in last week. When I heard that this was JAW, I knew I had to come in this week...either that, or my summons told me to come in this week. Interestingly enough, my wife mentioned that a woman we know was summoned for the same trial, reported yesterday, and had to stay until 4:00 p.m. (SPOILER ALERT!) I went in today and was released by 2:00 p.m. Apparently my skills were not needed this time, so I got my pink slip (a good thing here, a bad thing at the employment office), and returned home happy in knowing that, for all intents and purposes, this could very well have been my last trip to a courthouse in California (in this capacity).
I'm not sure about the name of the court video, but in true California style, there were about five minutes of credits at the end. I've never seen something like that have the credits. I think they wanted us to know that no incarcerated individuals, although available, were harmed in the production of the movie. Best quote from the show (referring to jury service): "It wasn't bad at all. I'd do it again." (Meanwhile, the woman in front of me rubs her Rosary beads and mumbles something about God not picking her.)
Happy JAW to all, and to all a good case!
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Political Debate in the USA
I spend a little time each day moving from opinion site to opinion site on the Internet these days. It's not that I have a fantastic opinion on anything...I'm a social and fiscal conservative and am a fan of small government...but I like to see what's happening in the minds of others. I can honestly say that, after the past few months, it's not much.
The idea of "debate" in the USA meaning two sides coming together to rationally discuss a point on its merits, is dead. What passes for debate these days was known in the famous Monty Python sketch as "verbal abuse." A typical "debate" usually goes about one round before one side resorts to name-calling, profanity, vulgarity, or the trifecta of all three. Lincoln and Douglas were recently seen rolling in their respective graves.
I'm sorry to report that rational thought has been replaced by hatred. Honest opinion has been co-opted by partisan politics. Lively conversation...the Spaniards call it "la tertulia" where folks get together to talk about what's hot in the public eye...has been replaced by vitriol and ridiculous rhetoric.
I still need to get my news, but I'm seriously grateful for sports talk radio and ESPN these days.
Update: In order to properly illustrate my point from last year, I offer the loudmouthed-shout-down-conspiracy-nut Rosie O'Myword.
The idea of "debate" in the USA meaning two sides coming together to rationally discuss a point on its merits, is dead. What passes for debate these days was known in the famous Monty Python sketch as "verbal abuse." A typical "debate" usually goes about one round before one side resorts to name-calling, profanity, vulgarity, or the trifecta of all three. Lincoln and Douglas were recently seen rolling in their respective graves.
I'm sorry to report that rational thought has been replaced by hatred. Honest opinion has been co-opted by partisan politics. Lively conversation...the Spaniards call it "la tertulia" where folks get together to talk about what's hot in the public eye...has been replaced by vitriol and ridiculous rhetoric.
I still need to get my news, but I'm seriously grateful for sports talk radio and ESPN these days.
Update: In order to properly illustrate my point from last year, I offer the loudmouthed-shout-down-conspiracy-nut Rosie O'Myword.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Spain. Is there any vacation destination that's more exciting?
Here's a link to my online travel journals. You may find it interesting. If you do, let me know. If you don't, keep it to yourself. My feelings are fragile.
Find it here.
Find it here.
My Elbows
I travel fairly regularly on business, and consider myself to be a mildly reasonable airline passenger. I do have my moments, though. This past week, I had one of those moments.
Over the course of 2005, I racked up enough miles to make the coveted "elite" status on a major American carrier...let's just call them "Legacy" airlines. This legacy airline is connected via an "alliance" with a number of other carriers. Together, I can usually get to where I need to go within budget. As luck would have it, though, my ethics got the best of me for my most recent trip, and instead of booking a more expensive trip on "Legacy," I decided to save my client a few hundred dollars and book on another airline. We'll call them "The World's Largest Low-fare Airline" (TWLLA) because that's what they call themselves.
I should have known my trip was jinxed from the start.
I went to use the online check-in the day prior to leaving and realized that in my flurry of business travel for this month, I had inadvertently booked my last week of March trip for the first week of April. Now, normally, on Legacy, I can change for a difference in fare +$50. I find that reasonable enough, knowing that the airlines like to know as far in advance who's flying where. Although I was able to handle the change completely online, TWLLA, remember the second "L" stands for "Low-cost," charged me $100 for a change fee. At a 100% markup over the standard change fee on Legacy, it hardly seemed to justify the "L."
Strike one.
Upon returning home, I went to one of the many e-ticket check-in kiosks and entered my ticket data. I had purposely requested a seat in the back of the plane for three reasons: 1) I could get an aisle, 2) I wanted to put my roll-aboard above me, not check it, and getting on first allows me that option (more on that later), and 3) I had time to disembark, so didn't need to get off the plane in a hurry. At any rate, I checked in and noticed that although I had the exact same seat going home as I had sat in on the way out, I was no longer in "Zone 3" but instead had been relegated to "Zone 5." Becuase my blog is new, you don't know about my trip last year on TWLLA to Newark, and therefore my disdain for zones higher than 3. Sufficeth to say, I wasn't a happy non-elite traveler on TWLLA. I asked the kiosk baggage agent for a logical explanation to this obviously confusing procedure. After drawing me a pyramid diagram and mumbling something about "windows" and "middles" it became clear to me that she would be unable to provide the logic I had asked for. I mumbled something about my love for TWLLA on my way to the TSA checkpoint. I knew it wasn't her policy, so decided to take it up with the gate agent.
Strike two.
Upon arrival at the gate, I realized that I there would be a sizable wait until an agent would arrive. When a gate agent did arrive, I approached the desk and told Victoria that I had a couple of questions, but would happily wait until she was ready for me. I noticed that behind her was a plaque noting the "marketing partners" that TWLLA had. Legacy wasn't one of them, but the airline with whom I'd gained my elite status was. Bonus. I asked if I would be given priority boarding or if it was solely a marketing alliance. Much to my chagrin, it was for marketing only. Not Victoria's fault, but I did have to ask. My next question was for her to explain the "zone" situation. She drew me a diagram I had seen earlier...downstairs at the check-in kiosk. It didn't make sense then, and the change in altitude didn't clear it up for me. My last question was whether there was an exit-row seat. She had a middle and gave it to me. I looked over my boarding pass: Zone 4.
Ball one.
I joked about my complaining and she was sympathetic. As I waited to board, Victoria called me over and told me that since a number of connecting flights wouldn't be able to make it, she had an aisle seat in the exit row. She gave it to me. I glanced at my boarding pass: Zone 6.
Foul.
I joked to Victoria about it and she "hand-cancelled" it and made it zone 4.
Ball two.
I boarded my flight which was supposed to be overbooked and quickly noticed that it would be about 2/3 full. I also noticed that the seat next to me was empty. Probably since until about five minutes prior, it had belonged to me. The attendants prepped to close the door and made the announcement: "We are waiting for a couple of connecting flights. If you are seated in a seat that is not yours, please return to your assigned seat so as to expedite our departure." This was repeated four times. Once before the man who ran up from a few rows behind me to sit in the seat next to me did so, and thrice after. He said to me as he sat down, "It doesn't look like this is going to fill up, so I'll just take this seat."
Foul. 2-2 count.
That changed my demeanor. How dare he sit in an unassigned seat! Is he also hard-of-hearing? The attendant just told everyone to sit in their assigned seats only! Who is he to shirk this obviously ironclad instruction from those in authority? Can't the sky marshal pull a gun on this clown and force him to comply? Well, since all of this was a dialogue with my tired mind, nothing happened, and this guy squished his wide frame into the middle seat. By the way, did I mention that he sat and composed e-mails on his Treo during the whole flight? Aren't those supposed to be in the off position? Is it a miracle our flight landed? I never saw him switch it to "airplane mode" either...so we may very well have been in serious navigational-hazard danger!
Foul.
There is an unwritten rule of flying that, if you get to the armrest first, you win. That's where this guy missed the memo. I placed my elbows on both armrests, something I don't normally do on the aisle out of respect for the claustrophobia that may beset a middle-sitter. In this case, I made an exception. He infringed on me, and I was going to plant my flag firmly on both armrests and claim the territory for me. He eventually took a break from his illicit e-mailing and leaned back...pressing his forearm firmly against mine. Again, in 99% of cases, the "presser" imposes his (or her) will on the armrest incumbent and the incumbent gives way. I was pleased to be one of the 1% in this case. He pressed...and pressed...and pressed...for a good ten minutes...and I never gave way, as I pretended to eat my Mike and Ikes and fiddle with my iPod. After ten minutes, he gave up, lurched forward, and continued to endanger us by broadcasting his e-mails, obviously he had just cured cancer and needed to get the formula out, during the flight.
Double to the gap.
In retrospect, this could've been easily avoided. Had he simply requested the seat at the gate, I wouldn't have treated him thus. Had he simply kept his mouth shut about his "plan" when he sat down, I wouldn't have treated him thus. Had I just been a little more charitable, I wouldn't have treated him thus. But, true to today's me-first mentality, that last option is not viable. It wasn't my fault, it was his. And I'm suing.
Batter up!
Over the course of 2005, I racked up enough miles to make the coveted "elite" status on a major American carrier...let's just call them "Legacy" airlines. This legacy airline is connected via an "alliance" with a number of other carriers. Together, I can usually get to where I need to go within budget. As luck would have it, though, my ethics got the best of me for my most recent trip, and instead of booking a more expensive trip on "Legacy," I decided to save my client a few hundred dollars and book on another airline. We'll call them "The World's Largest Low-fare Airline" (TWLLA) because that's what they call themselves.
I should have known my trip was jinxed from the start.
I went to use the online check-in the day prior to leaving and realized that in my flurry of business travel for this month, I had inadvertently booked my last week of March trip for the first week of April. Now, normally, on Legacy, I can change for a difference in fare +$50. I find that reasonable enough, knowing that the airlines like to know as far in advance who's flying where. Although I was able to handle the change completely online, TWLLA, remember the second "L" stands for "Low-cost," charged me $100 for a change fee. At a 100% markup over the standard change fee on Legacy, it hardly seemed to justify the "L."
Strike one.
Upon returning home, I went to one of the many e-ticket check-in kiosks and entered my ticket data. I had purposely requested a seat in the back of the plane for three reasons: 1) I could get an aisle, 2) I wanted to put my roll-aboard above me, not check it, and getting on first allows me that option (more on that later), and 3) I had time to disembark, so didn't need to get off the plane in a hurry. At any rate, I checked in and noticed that although I had the exact same seat going home as I had sat in on the way out, I was no longer in "Zone 3" but instead had been relegated to "Zone 5." Becuase my blog is new, you don't know about my trip last year on TWLLA to Newark, and therefore my disdain for zones higher than 3. Sufficeth to say, I wasn't a happy non-elite traveler on TWLLA. I asked the kiosk baggage agent for a logical explanation to this obviously confusing procedure. After drawing me a pyramid diagram and mumbling something about "windows" and "middles" it became clear to me that she would be unable to provide the logic I had asked for. I mumbled something about my love for TWLLA on my way to the TSA checkpoint. I knew it wasn't her policy, so decided to take it up with the gate agent.
Strike two.
Upon arrival at the gate, I realized that I there would be a sizable wait until an agent would arrive. When a gate agent did arrive, I approached the desk and told Victoria that I had a couple of questions, but would happily wait until she was ready for me. I noticed that behind her was a plaque noting the "marketing partners" that TWLLA had. Legacy wasn't one of them, but the airline with whom I'd gained my elite status was. Bonus. I asked if I would be given priority boarding or if it was solely a marketing alliance. Much to my chagrin, it was for marketing only. Not Victoria's fault, but I did have to ask. My next question was for her to explain the "zone" situation. She drew me a diagram I had seen earlier...downstairs at the check-in kiosk. It didn't make sense then, and the change in altitude didn't clear it up for me. My last question was whether there was an exit-row seat. She had a middle and gave it to me. I looked over my boarding pass: Zone 4.
Ball one.
I joked about my complaining and she was sympathetic. As I waited to board, Victoria called me over and told me that since a number of connecting flights wouldn't be able to make it, she had an aisle seat in the exit row. She gave it to me. I glanced at my boarding pass: Zone 6.
Foul.
I joked to Victoria about it and she "hand-cancelled" it and made it zone 4.
Ball two.
I boarded my flight which was supposed to be overbooked and quickly noticed that it would be about 2/3 full. I also noticed that the seat next to me was empty. Probably since until about five minutes prior, it had belonged to me. The attendants prepped to close the door and made the announcement: "We are waiting for a couple of connecting flights. If you are seated in a seat that is not yours, please return to your assigned seat so as to expedite our departure." This was repeated four times. Once before the man who ran up from a few rows behind me to sit in the seat next to me did so, and thrice after. He said to me as he sat down, "It doesn't look like this is going to fill up, so I'll just take this seat."
Foul. 2-2 count.
That changed my demeanor. How dare he sit in an unassigned seat! Is he also hard-of-hearing? The attendant just told everyone to sit in their assigned seats only! Who is he to shirk this obviously ironclad instruction from those in authority? Can't the sky marshal pull a gun on this clown and force him to comply? Well, since all of this was a dialogue with my tired mind, nothing happened, and this guy squished his wide frame into the middle seat. By the way, did I mention that he sat and composed e-mails on his Treo during the whole flight? Aren't those supposed to be in the off position? Is it a miracle our flight landed? I never saw him switch it to "airplane mode" either...so we may very well have been in serious navigational-hazard danger!
Foul.
There is an unwritten rule of flying that, if you get to the armrest first, you win. That's where this guy missed the memo. I placed my elbows on both armrests, something I don't normally do on the aisle out of respect for the claustrophobia that may beset a middle-sitter. In this case, I made an exception. He infringed on me, and I was going to plant my flag firmly on both armrests and claim the territory for me. He eventually took a break from his illicit e-mailing and leaned back...pressing his forearm firmly against mine. Again, in 99% of cases, the "presser" imposes his (or her) will on the armrest incumbent and the incumbent gives way. I was pleased to be one of the 1% in this case. He pressed...and pressed...and pressed...for a good ten minutes...and I never gave way, as I pretended to eat my Mike and Ikes and fiddle with my iPod. After ten minutes, he gave up, lurched forward, and continued to endanger us by broadcasting his e-mails, obviously he had just cured cancer and needed to get the formula out, during the flight.
Double to the gap.
In retrospect, this could've been easily avoided. Had he simply requested the seat at the gate, I wouldn't have treated him thus. Had he simply kept his mouth shut about his "plan" when he sat down, I wouldn't have treated him thus. Had I just been a little more charitable, I wouldn't have treated him thus. But, true to today's me-first mentality, that last option is not viable. It wasn't my fault, it was his. And I'm suing.
Batter up!
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Donald Trump
Is there anything more mesmerizing than looking at Donald Trump's lid? How the heck does that mane stay put? Does he have a secret endorsement deal with Dippity Do? It's like the hair starts at mid-scalp, make a move towards the browline, and then, suddenly, does a 180 and makes a b-line for the back row. Nice lettuce, Trump. Of course, this could all be envy as I'm on a steady diet of Nioxin to stem my own hair's ebb tide.
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