dd June 20th, 2007
I love baseball. My love affair started when I was a little kid in Detroit and my dad used to take me to Tiger Stadium to watch Al Kaline and the gang. We loved going on Sundays and seeing Charlie “Paw Paw” Maxwell hit his Sunday home runs. He was famous for hitting on Sunday. The love affair sort of cooled off when I moved to D.C. 37 years ago especially with no baseball team in D.C for so long. But, I always followed the Tigers in the good years and the lean years. Lately, the team has been awesome.
Last year, my good friend Gene and I went to see the Tigers in their new Comerica Park stadium when I was in Detroit visiting my mom. The Tigers got crushed by the White Sox that day even though that was the first live Tigers game I had seen in many years. How could they? Oh well, they went on to vanquish all AL foes and ended up in the world series.
Tonight, my wife and I and Bill and Kris went to see the Tigers play the Washington Nationals at RFK. It was the Tigers first visit to DC in over 35 years! Tonight’s game was the final one of a 3 game series and the Tigers had won the first 2 by scores of 9-8 and 15-1. They had crushed the Nats last night. So, I was worried that maybe they would be a little flat tonight. Not to worry. On a gorgeous night in the nation’s capital, the mighty bengals lambasted the woeful Nats again 8 -4. I think there were as many Tiger fans as Nats fans, especially when the Nats fans started heading toward the exits after the 8th inning. Come on, you don’t leave a game before it’s over. How would they have felt if the Nats (remote chance but you never know) had come back and rallied in the bottom of the 9th? What a hoot to hear thousands of the olde English D hatted fans yelling “Let’s Go Tigers!”
But, Todd Jones shut them down in the 9th and the Tigers behind great hitting from Maglio and Carlos did it again. “Hold that Tiger, hold that Tiger….”. I’m in love again!
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dd June 17th, 2007
Last night, my wife and I drove to Owings Mills, MD for dinner with friends and then a concert by Mr. Peter Schickele and company. We originally thought this affair was in Olney, MD which still seems like the other end of the world from N. VA. However, upon a closer examination of the email invite yesterday, I discovered this was in Owings Mills. A quick Google mapping revealed that Olney is right around the corner compared to Owings Mills! But, like good musical troopers, we marched on. My wife reminded me during my grumbling about the long drive (about 90 minutes) that we once drove 4 hours to hear Peter Yarrow and daughter along with Doug Mishkin. (True, but they were good I thought). Anyway, for a more thorough introduction to Peter Schickele ( aka P.D.Q. Bach) you can read my spouse’s post. Here’s my take on the evening:
- Mr. Schickele has some good shtick. Think Victor Borge from South Dakota. In fact, I think Peter has borrowed quite liberally from Victor.
- Mr. Schickele’s humor is better than his music.
- I managed to stay awake - I refer you to this post - longer than my wife despite her penchant for this kind of “Bachian” music. However, interestingly, she zzz’d off during the opening song parodies, which I found mildly amusing, and awakened during the music only and interminable string quartet - why I have no idea. I, on the other hand, did not doze off until the string quartet. Another small victory, no?
- After the lonnnnnng intermission, and buoyed by my little nap, I ( and my wife) managed to stay awake for the more modern song parodies, rounds and the rousing finale - Songs from Shakespeare.
In any case, we had a nice dinner and conversation with friends and at least I can say I saw Peter Schickele - whoopee!
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dd June 12th, 2007
When we renovated our house 7 years ago, the doors upstairs were fitted with new door knobs that you can lock from the inside by pushing a button. You know the kind - they’re all over the place. Occasionally, especially when Angelina has come to clean our house, the lock button gets depressed by mistake and when I close our bedroom door to keep Jake (our beloved hybrid retriever) out, I unknowlingly lock the door. The problem of course is that there is no one inside the room to unlock it.
Our builder left us a small circular tool for just such exigencies that theoretically can be used to unlock the mechanism through a small hole in the outer knob (see picture). However, I have never been able to figure out how to use this maddening little thing to actually open the door from the outside. My wife seems to have the knack, but today I accidentally locked myself out of the bedroom and my wife was not home. And, I had to get into the room to get my car keys and I had to do it fast or I would be late to my already rescheduled P.T. appointment.
So, I first found the little tool (btw, does anyone know what it is called?) and decided to give it a try. This time, however, I moved slowly and calmly about the task. And, good golly miss molly, the door opened! How had I managed to do it this time after failing on so many previous occasions? Was it the fear of missing my appointment that made my hands work effectively? Was it the inner calm after 3 days at the beach? Or, was it just blind luck? I really don’t know, but I think I’ll will no longer feel helpless if it happens again. One of life’s little victories is still as sweet.
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dd June 10th, 2007
I wasn’t sure how much fun I was going to have this weekend as I accompanied Barbara (aka Barbie to her friends here in Panama City, FL) to her 40th high school reunion. For those who haven’t visited Panama City, it’s in the northwest panhandle of Florida, otherwise known as the redneck Riviera. So, that is strike one. Strike two of course is that I’m the spouse tagging along who doesn’t really know anhyone at the reunion events. But, I never got to strike three. I’ve had a great time.
We stayed virtually for free at a condo overlooking the beautiful beach and the Gulf. It’s owned by a brother of one of the 4 “daisies” (Barbie’s ya-ya like group of 4 close friends from school days). There were 5 of us - Barbie and me, FL and I - both single now - and M, married but whose hubby came down with a bad back a couple of days ago (likely story). So, I’ve been surrounded by beautiful women - not too bad a gig!
We’ve hung out at the beach and the pool, attended 2 Bay High Reunion events and discovered a fantastic little beach restaurant called Liza’s Kitchen. And, the reunion events were actually fun. I spent a good bit of time talking to other spouses, one of which was Bill Cappleman, ex Detroit Lion Quarterback! We had a good time reminiscing about his playing days in the early 70’s. And, I enjoyed chatting with Graham’s wife - another Northerner. It’s been a blast and until just an hour ago, we’ve been off the air - no internet. It’s been a nice break. Back to DC tomorrow night. I’ll miss P.C. beach.
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dd June 1st, 2007
Yesterday at my local Whole Foods, I stopped at the fish counter where I overheard the customer before me wishing the “fish man” good luck in his upcoming competition. In the past, I probably wouldn’t have followed up on this, but lately I seem to be more and more anxious to engage people in conversation and I was curious. I’ve also been served by his guy many times and was curious about other aspects of his life. So, when it was my turn, I had to ask:
“So, what kind of competition are you involved in?”
“Straight pool. I’m entered in a Maryland tournament and if I finish 1st or 2nd, I’ll qualify for the national tournament.”
“Think you’re good enough to do that?”
“Oh yeah, I’m a pretty good player. In New York City, I played for many years starting in 1964 until about 1980. I stopped playing for 17 years, but took it up again a few years ago. I walked into a bar in Clarendon that had a pool table and thought ‘what the hell’, let me play a few games. I beat the pants off everyone there and started my ‘comeback’. You know who taught me how to play?”
“No idea.”
“Willie Mosconi! Ever heard of him?”
“Of course - he was the greatest straight pool player that ever lived. He did all the pool shots in the ‘Hustler’. That’s still my favorite movie.”
“Not only did he do all the playing, it’s his hands you see racking the balls.”
….
“Hey, best of luck in the tournament”.
“Thanks, buddy.”
I loved this chance encounter and dialogue for a couple of reasons. The Fish guy was no longer just some anonymous employee. He was a very cool guy.
And, I loved talking to him about pool. In my early 20’s, I loved playing pool. In fact (don’t tell any of my relatives), I spent the majority of my sophomore year at the student union playing straight pool, 8 ball, 9 ball, and snooker. I was a pretty good shot, so snooker was my favorite. And, along with my friend Tom Parker, I went to several pool tournaments in the Detroit area. I saw Minnesota Fats (Rudolph Walter Wanderone Jr - he adopted the name after the movie). He turned out to be a good talker, but not that great a pool player. I also saw Luther (Wimpy)Lassiter and Irving Crane, 2 U.S. champions play. They were the real deal. I even had my own “stick” - bought if off a guy I worked with on a summer job with the Mich. State Highway Dept.
This chance encounter brought back a lot of good memories. Good luck, Fish Man!!
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