( 11:25 PM )
Halloween
Ah.....Halloween. That beautiful and festive holiday where kids learn the art of terrorizing their neighborhood and gorging themselves ill with junk food. It’s such a wonderful time.
I actually enjoy Halloween. I live in a great neighborhood, where everybody takes every holiday way too seriously, and everyone is trying to “out-do” everyone else. Better decorations, better costumes, better parties, better candy.
I remember my first year in our new house (5 years ago). We had no kids and just moved from Long Island, where parents knock on your door first, to check to make sure you’re not a lunatic. So our first Halloween in Connecticut, and we were not prepared. “Sure, a bag of mini-snickers should do it.” Not only did we run out of candy within the first 20 minutes, but our house got egged because the other neighbors were giving out “full-sized” candy bars. (The worst house on the block gets egged every year.)
So this year we’re a veteran Halloween house, with full-sized bars, scary costumes to answer the door with, and over-the-top tacky decorations. Plus, we’ve got our own kids to send out into the street battles and force to bring home candy for us. Alright, my kids are 1 and 2 years old, so I had to bring them door-to-door myself, while Deborah manned the house.
The weather was a bit cold this year, and Sammy still doesn’t walk all that well, so I pulled the boys in a wagon. Joseph was “Bob-the-Builder” and Sammy was some kind of vegetable. But both had winter coats on, so I had to explain to everyone what they “were”. After the 6th or 7th house, Joseph refused to even get out of the wagon, and preferred to just sit and eat a Kit-Kat bar. At house #8, rather then drag this wagon up the long walkway with a couple of steps in it, I just left the wagon at the curb and went up myself. “Yeah. Hi. Treat-or-treat. Uh…those are my kids down there in the dark. They’re kinda cold, so… Oh…mini-snickers. Great. Thanks.”
( 9:19 AM )
World Series
Well, even though I was rooting for Barry and the Giants, the World Series was really all I could have hoped for to end a fun baseball season.
I feel bad for Barry Bonds, though. I know I probably shouldn’t. A lot of people say he’s an asshole in person, that he doesn’t get along with anyone on his team, he’s a primadonna in the clubhouse (four lockers, his own recliner, etc.). And he wasn’t getting any sympathy votes from non-fans during the series because of his permanent scowl and cocky demeanor. But if you look at the numbers and the fearful respect he receives from opposing pitchers and managers (and if you’ve seen him hit) you can’t help but understand his attitude. He’s a superstar/superhero in a World Series full of no-names. And because of his reputation at the plate, he was basically taken out of the equation when it really counted. His own reputation made him a spectator and/or walker during any opportunity to cause damage.
You’ve got to feel bad for him.
On the flip side, Anaheim deserved to win. A team full of scrappy, young no-names (relative no-names), that were able to comeback throughout the playoffs (including a whupping of the Yankees). Their Game 6 comeback from a 5-run deficit was as exciting as a game could get (I was rooting for the Angels during that game, because I wanted the Game 7 showdown). And the Game 2 comeback (after San Frans’ comeback) to win 11-10 was also exciting.
You have wonder what the future holds for Barry Bonds. Next years Giants will not look the same. Most likely a new manager, that may not put up with Bonds’ clubhouse needs. At age 38, another World Series opportunity is extremely dim. Yeah, you’ve got to feel bad for Barry.
( 9:35 AM )
Crappy day
Crappy day yesterday. I won’t even bore you with the depressing, insignificant details of everything that went wrong at work. It was just a crappy day. So by the time I got home, I was happy to see my wife and kids. Unfortunately, my wife had a crappy day too. The kids were a bit sick and basically whining the entire day. (I’ve taken care of my kids for entire days on occasion, and I know that two whining, cranky kids makes my job look like a walk in the park.) So, I walked into the absent smell of dinner cooking, and children screaming and yelling.
Dinner consisted of me making myself a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches, which I hastily inhaled as my wife was getting impatient for me to help her with the kids. By the time things settled down and the kids finally went to bed, it was 9pm and Game 4 of the World Series was already in progress.
I finally began to unwind on the couch around 10pm, 5th inning, Anaheim leading 3-0, when Joseph, my oldest (2 years old) started calling me from upstairs. “Dad-dee. Dad-deeee!” I rolled my eyes and went to the bottom of the stairs to see him standing behind the gate with his blanky and three stuffed animals. “Dad-dee? Bee-ball?” How could I resist? I brought him and his friends down and plopped back down on the couch, with him on my lap.
Around 11pm, Deb, who graciously allows me to watch baseball and has been unwinding herself by painting in the dining room, comes into the living room with a big bowl of ice cream. It is at this time I took stock of my situation. Sitting on the couch, watching Game 4 of the World Series, bottom of the 8th inning, score is tied at 3 runs apiece, my son Joseph asleep in my lap, both of us underneath a blanket, and me eating a big bowl of ice cream.
How can life get any better? I don’t think it can.
( 9:46 AM )
World Series – game 2
Game 1 was a bore. I was starting to think that any World Series without dramatic 9th inning comebacks by the New York Yankees was going to be a boring World Series. Game 2 between the Anaheim Angels and the San Francisco Giants proved me wrong.
As usual, the dramatics and excitement came from the bat of Barry Bonds. And even though, San Francisco lost, Barry was still the reason to love this game.
The entire game was a slugfest, flip-flopping leads after each inning. With the score tied at 9, Anaheim went into the bottom of the 8th to try and take the lead. They succeeded with a two run shot from Tim Salmon. Score: 11-9, Angels lead.
Top of the 9th, the Giant are desperately trying to get a man on base, so Barry Bonds can tie the game with one swing. They fail. Bonds approached the plate, with two outs, down by two, and Santiago, the catcher, batting behind him. It was futile.
But Bonds decides to put on a show anyway. He watches the first pitch, a fastball, come down the middle for a strike. He watches the second pitch, a slider, come inside for a ball. He then watches the third pitch, another heater, come down the middle again. And just as you think he’s going to watch it, he releases a lightning fast swing that crushes the ball. He drops his bat and stands at the plate with his arms by his sides, and watches, as everyone else does, his ball sail clear out of the stadium.
Tim Salmon, who’s previous inning two-run homer was caught in the stands by Anaheim fans, was seen mouthing the words, “That’s the furthest hit ball I have ever seen…..”
Anaheim wins it 11-10.
( 11:33 PM )
Gun Control
Glenn posted a piece on Gun Control (see Riding in cars with guns) and it sparked an interesting conversation in my office. Okay, I sparked the conversation. But at least it was a conversation. Not a debate or argument. Just general ‘what ifs’ and ‘how abouts’.
Everyone’s got an opinion. But what I found interesting was the common agreement regarding, what is now called, “gun fingerprinting”. And as Glenn pointed out in his piece, the NRA is all up in arms (forgive the pun) about gun fingerprinting, stating that it is the next step towards a national database for gun owners. To which Glenn asks, why is this bad?
I don’t agree with broad, sweeping gun control laws. I grew up in New Hampshire and around guns. My father collected them, and also had them for home protection. Never had to use them for home protection, but they were there. We didn’t hunt, but hunting is a huge part of life in NH, Vermont and Maine. I learned how to use a gun, and learned the dangers of a gun. I also learned how to use a chainsaw, and learned the dangers of a chainsaw. As far as I was concerned, guns were for sport, and for protection if necessary. Never to be fooled with, never to be disrespected, and never to hurt anyone.
I don’t own a gun. (But I’ve got a couple of very mean cats, so stay away!) But if I did, I would have no problem registering, and getting my gun and myself fingerprinted, and doing whatever it takes to protect human life. I’m a law-abiding citizen and have nothing to hide.
If these laws were in place and effectively used prior to these sniper attacks in Maryland/ Virginia area, 8 (and possibly more) lives might have been spared. It is apparent that guns no longer fall into the categories of sport and protection, and gun laws need to be implemented to help protect us. But, removing guns from the hands of law-abiding Americans isn’t the answer.
An interesting scenario was presented in our office discussion. What if this sniper finally meets his end at the hand of a gun-carrying citizen? Boy, would that throw a wrench in the works…
( 9:03 AM )
Harry Belafonte
So, 60's calypso lounge-singer extraordinare Harry Belafonte has been shooting off his mouth this week, calling Secretary of State Colin Powell a "White House Slave". Let me repeat those titles. CALYPSO LOUNGE-SINGER Harry Belafonte. SECRETARY OF STATE Colin Powell.
Sounds like Harry's jumping on the "my-career-has-been-in-the-toilet-for-30-years-so-I-think-I'll-shoot-off-my-mouth-and-act-like-a-jackass-and-see-if-I-can-generate-some-publicity-for-myself" bandwagon.
The most shameful part of this whole moronic story is, why anybody would give this jackass a soapbox to stand on.
( 1:06 PM )
Unattractive couple
This morning I witnessed something I’m trying to scour from my brain. An unattractive couple being intimate. It was on the train. Directly across the aisle from me. There was a lot of touching and kissing. This wasn’t a couple of teenagers, either. They were in their mid-30s, business professionals. She was kind of homely looking, nothing I could spot as appealing. He was even goofier looking, making her look like a trophy wife. That’s just not right. I mean, I guess it wouldn’t be right if they were an attractive couple. This is a commuter train. But it just makes it more difficult to witness when they’re kind of visually unappealing.
It’s a bit like why Ellen Degeneres’ show didn’t do well. It had nothing to do with the content being lesbian-oriented. It was just that nobody wanted to see (or imagine) Ellen involved in lesbian-like content or dialogue. Now, if Cindy Crawford or Daisy Fuentes had a show where they talked and acted like lesbians, well, now that’s a show that would do well.
( 12:12 AM )
Football
So, just got back from a long weekend in New England. Spent the day in Foxboro, Mass as the new expansion team "the Packers" from a little town called "Green Bay" stopped by to take on the "World Champion" New England Patriots. Except, the Pats didn't show up for the game, and instead, sent a gang of old ladies to play in their place. To make matters worse, the old ladies must have been sprayed down with "ball" repellent, because balls kept bouncing off their bodies, and refused to stick to their hands. Needless to say, the Patriots got spanked like a dog that just shat on the living room rug. And in front of it's home crowd. Oh well....at least it wasn't raining. Oh...wait. It was raining. All day. Non-stop. I'm sitting in wet underwear as I write this, so I'd better say goodnight.
( 10:39 PM )
Minivan, Part II
Okay, so here's the deal. The wife is happy. The kids are happy. So I'm happy. Forget being hip and cool. I'm now an adult...
The thing is, I never really was "cool" anyway. I might have thought I was, but the truth is, I was always the last to jump on any kind of "cool" bandwagon, and always seemed to hold on to things after their time had already passed. (I insisted on wearing my denim jacket, way after denim was out.)
Deb and I bought our Nissan Xterra in the summer of '99, and I know we were "cool". We were young(er), kid-free, tooling around town in a brand new, cherry red, SUV that no one had ever seen. We were the first on the block to have one. People would look, kids would point, and when we strapped our kayak or bikes on the roof, we looked just like the commercial. Hell, we even played that Lenny Kravitz tune to round out the whole image.
But like all fads, the Xterra image got old. The neighbor's kid has one and they're making them in every color now. So I guess it's time to move on. Our 2002 Ford Windstar is Silver, totally loaded, seats seven, three climate zones, and has a video entertainment system. Long drives are comfortable and the kids don't make a peep....
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