Author (#1)June 2003 Archives
I had the kids by myself this weekend as Katy went down to her sister's this weekend to help out with their new baby.
Saturday night I just couldn't get to sleep. I was awake until about 2 AM, and of course the kids were up before 7. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to deliver on my promise of a trip to the beach.
I managed to get myself together, thanks to the Ultimate Wake-Up Breakfast: A pot of coffee and a bowl of Froot Loops.
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Rob Neyer is one of my favorite baseball writers. The picture on the left is his old ESPN.com picture, the one on the right is the new one.
The old picture is very much in the "pasty baseball statistics geek" mode, whereas the new one seems more of a "square-jawed rugged guy" shot. I don't think it's a coincidence that ESPN put up the new picture about the same time that they started featuring Mr. Neyer's picture on the front page of their baseball site.
If you read Rob's column, you will realize that he actually is a baseball stats geek. My question: Will the new shot give him more cred with the non-sabrematician baseball fans?
This is another one of those "would have blogged it if I had a blog back then" stories.
One night we were over at a neighbor's house for dinner, and another couple was also there. We'll call them "Fred" and "Ginger." They had two children, a newborn and a four or five year old boy.
I don't remember how we got onto the topic but somehow I ended up talking with "Ginger" about The Family Bed, a parenting strategy that has young children sleep with their parents. She said that they had been doing that since their son was born. I asked if their son still slept with them every night, and she assured me that he did.
(Lest I draw some flak here, let me point out that I don't have any problem with that at all. Whatever works for you, folks.)
I gestured toward her newborn daughter and joked "Boy, how did you manage to get pregnant again?"
She earnestly replied, "Kids are really heavy sleepers at that age."
Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwww!
When I am not reading on the train, I often pass the time by eavesdropping.
Today I overheard some folks talking about refinancing. I will try to capture the flavor of the conversation:
Party A: "You know they lowered interest rates again."
Party B: "Maybe I should refinance. My wife will kill me though, all that paperwork again."
A: "I can't refinance, when we did it last year part of the contract was that we couldn't refinance for three years blah blah blah saved an 1/8th of a point on the rate blah blah."
[A and B discuss the legality of such an agreement, while I ponder the wisdom of signing such a contract.]
B: "Anyway, maybe I'll call (insert popular refinance company here)."
A: "Oh, no, don't use them, they're really bad and stuff."
Hmm. Should you take refinancing advice from a guy who willingly locked himself out of the refi market for three years for a measly 1/8th of a point? Such a strategy seems fraught with peril.
I bottled my latest brewing experiment last night.
I think this is the first batch I've brewed that will not have mass appeal. It's quite hoppy. (Translation: bitter.) I'm leaning towards calling it "Acrid Ale," or maybe "You Aren't Going To Like This Ale." I think that will set people's expectations properly.
I suppose this does give me an excuse to make another batch fairly soon - I need to produce something drinkable for Katy.
[UPDATE: The marketing wizards here at Flying W Brewery have decided to call it "Acrid Ale" with a tagline of "You Won't Like It!" Label art will be posted shortly.]
In a mad flurry of reading, I finished the new Harry Potter book last night before bed.
I enjoyed it immensely. J.K. Rowling continues with the darker, edgier storytelling that closed out book four - looking back at the series, the writing seems to have matured along with the characters. Another good story well told.
Will you like it? I refer you to the Abraham Lincoln quote above.
FedEx delivered my copy of Harry Potter book 5 this morning by 8:30!
How's that for service?
"The hottest day of the summer so far..." I am dying to just sit and read today.
Some quick hits from the vacation.
1. Maryland is very green this time of year. And painfully humid. I am spoiled by the weather in L.A. and I like it that way.
2. Claire and Cameron were both very good travelers. I was a little concerned about how they would do at adult-focused events like the rehearsal dinner and wedding and such. They did very well. This gives me hope that traveling with them in the future will be enjoyable.
3. You can't buy beer at a gas station in Maryland. What is up with that?
4. Neither can you buy beer at a grocery store in Maryland. Again, what is up with that?
5. I suppose that I am also spoiled by California's relative lack of "blue laws" regarding liquor sales.
6. But you can get Yuengling back there, which redeemed the situation somewhat.
7. The 24 Hours of Le Mans race was last weekend. My father-in-law and brother-in-law are much more knowledgeable than I when it comes to this event. Cam and I caught the last five minutes or so of the race one morning, and I mentioned Bentley's win at breakfast. They both knew that Bentley hadn't won since (wait while I look it up) 1930, off the top of their heads.
8. The minister that performed the wedding sounded enough like Kermit the Frog that it was distracting. At times it was all I could do not to laugh. "Hi Ho, Allow me to introduce Mr. and Mrs. blah blah blah..."
9. While it is not a bad idea to have some things to entertain your kids during weddings, you should never take any toys that make sounds. Especially not a toy plane that sounds like a jet taking off. And plays for 30 seconds with no way to turn it off once it's on. Because, well, the button could get pushed - you know, totally by accident. Say, by something else in the backpack. In the middle of the ceremony.
Twice.
My mother-in-law grew up on Maryland's Eastern Shore. After the wedding we drove down and spent a few days in her old stomping grounds.
We stayed in St. Michael's and had dinner one night at The Crab Claw, the quintessential Chesapeake Bay seafood joint. You may remember last fall's story about eating blue crabs - well, this was the Real Deal. It was great sitting on the deck drinking beers and downing some oysters and Jumbo (6-6.5 inches across) blue crabs. I felt pretty smug as a tourist who knew how to pick the meat from these crabs.
At the other end of the culinary scale are Maryland Biscuits. My mother-in-law also introduced me to these "delicacies" early in my relationship with Katy. Her brother sends her five or six dozen every year for the holidays (generally Thanksgiving and Christmas). By the time we get them they are hard as rocks and generally the butt of many of my jokes.
We stopped by "the factory" in Wye Mills to pick up a few dozen - okay, ten dozen - for Katy's mom and uncle. Much to my horror, Katy's mom let the older woman who runs the family business know that I don't particularly care for them. Much to my amazement, she agreed with me - at least that they aren't good unless they are fresh. To make her point, they brought me a fresh one, which was delicious.
It's a family business, and they make more than 25,000 biscuits a year - basically in their home. As far as I could tell, the only specialized equipment they had was a machine to pound the dough (the biscuits are unleavened and won't rise unless you beat them first) and a commercial oven. Otherwise it's all stuff you could find in your own kitchen.
Now that I've seen the people making them I'll likely cut down on the jokes. They work pretty hard. They don't need some smartass Cali boy mocking them.
This is one of those entries that Cameron is not going to be pleased with in another ten years or so.
Cameron had a great time on vacation checking out bathrooms. Whenever we went someplace new he wanted to go to the bathroom at least twice - first with me, then with Katy - so he could check out the men's and women's rooms. Conservative estimates place the number of accompanied bathroom trips at around 40 for the week.
Some things seemed to lead to multiple trips to a given bathroom: Kid-height urinals. Automatic urinals. Hand-crank paper towel dispensers. Foamy antibacterial soap.
Other bathrooms spawned days of conversation. The bathroom at the church had one of those urinals that goes all the way to the floor.
Oh. My. Lord. Porcelain Heaven. Three trips in 20 minutes.
The new Harry Potter book is out tomorrow.
I ordered it some time ago from Amazon.com when I saw that they were guaranteeing "day of release" shipping. I get the book the first day it's out without having to stand in lines with costumed whackos. W00t!
I am curious about the logisitics required for this service - this has to represent a fairly good-sized spike in Saturday deliveries for FedEx, who is in possession of my book even as we speak.
Anyway, I will be the first in my household to read Book 5. My review may or may not follow.
I have been on vacation for the last week. One of Katy's cousins got married last weekend in Chesapeake City, Maryland.
I didn't touch a computer or a major newspaper from our departure last Thursday until today. You can get out of touch in a big hurry.
Anyway, I have many stories to tell. They will trickle out over the next few days.
That would be the sound of me jumping on the bandwagon.
Finding Nemo is really quite good. As a fringe benefit, neither of my scaredy-cat kids were frightened by it.
We saw it at our local Regal Cinemas, and they had some pretty funny promos on-screen before the picture - such as this clip, starring all your favorite members of the Justice League going to a movie. (Warning: Requires RealPlayer.) Good stuff.
I have a new must-watch show on TV, the Travel Channel's World Poker Tour.
Two hours of no-limit tournament Texas Hold 'Em. It's a lot like the World Series of Poker with one addition - they place cameras at each player's position on the table, allowing you (the home viewer) to see everybody's pocket cards.
I suspect my non-card playing readers won't get much out of it. Mike compared it to watching golf on TV - it's hard to appreciate it if you don't play. But if you like to play poker, it's a great show. This week's show featured none other than Jerry Buss, owner of the Los Angeles Lakers, playing heads-up for the championship with some professional player. The guy was talking smack - to Jerry Buss! It was amazing!
As an added bonus, one of the commentators is none other than Vincent Van Patten, who starred with the Ramones in one of my favorite dumb movies: Rock 'n' Roll High School.
Wednesday nights at 9 PM EST/PST. Check it out.
Yesterday I brewed some beer. The new propane burner worked great - when it actually had fuel. I lit the thing up to get started and it burned for about 45 seconds before my propane tank ran dry.
I realized today that the burner not only gets me out of the house, it also allows me to do larger batches. My current brewpot is the biggest thing I could fit on the stove - but this is no longer a limitation. Ten-gallon batches, here I come!
Last week we were playing some pick-up volleyball after our league game. The players on the other team were all younger. Said team joked that it was the "under 20s" vs. the "over 30s." I must admit that this ticked me off.
Anyway, there was one guy on the other team who was a great player - hard hitter, nice setting hands, good defense - a pretty complete package. But we were able to block him pretty consistently, hit around him, dink over him - basically we neutralized him. It was sweet. He seemed to be getting a little frustrated.
Now, back when I started playing rec-league volleyball, we used to go up against this team of older players now and then. I always looked forward to it because I figured I had a great advantage on these slow, creaky, old guys at the net. But they always worked me over - I could never get the ball past them, and they would always make me look stupid on defense. I just couldn't figure it out, and it made me mad every time.
On the way back to the car I suddenly realized that I was one of those "slow, creaky, old" guys now. Ahh, grasshopper - it is true what the great sage P.J. O'Rourke once said: Age and guile do beat youth and a bad haircut. At least now and then.
I am going to brew some beer this weekend. I decided that I would not order the ingredients and stuff that I need from my usual online retailer and instead support my local homebrew supply store. ("Local" can be a strange concept in L.A. - in this case local means a 20 minute drive from my office.)
I have bought from them before and, while homebrewing is not their sole focus, they have quite a bit of stuff. Last week I called them and ran down my ingredient list and they had all the grains and hops I needed. I didn't ask specifically about the yeast I wanted to use as I could tell the guy knew nothing about the product, but he did tell me that they had "lots of yeast."
Well, it turns out that they did have lots of yeast. Lots of packaged generic brewer's yeast. No thank you.
So tomorrow at lunch I have to drive even further to another brew supply shop to get the yeast I need for my beer. I realize that in the big scheme of things this doesn't really make much difference, but it's annoying nevertheless.
What a pain. In the future I will order my brewing supplies from my friendly online retailer.
Here's a quick rundown of what I've been reading lately. Surprisingly, there isn't much science fiction or fantasy in the lot:
The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara: The 1975 Pulitzer Prize winner for fiction, this is an account of the Battle of Gettysburg, told from the point of view of key generals on both sides. I found it extremely compelling. There was a certain doomed inevitability to the whole business. I remembered enough of my American History to know that The South Doesn't Win and to recognize names like "Little Round Top" and "Pickett's Charge" but not enough to know exactly how the battle would unfold. I couldn't put it down.
I followed that with The Last Full Measure by Jeff Shaara, Michael's son. This is more historical fiction, taking us from the aftermath of Gettysburg to the Lee's eventual surrender. I don't know how accurate the Shaara's portrayals are but again the storytelling is compelling. The scene in which Joshua Chamberlain receives the arms of the defeated Southern army is incredibly moving.
Then I made an ill-fated attempt to get through Godel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid by Douglas Hofstadter. This book has been kicking my ass for over a decade. I still can't get through it. This time I made it to about page 200 before my head started to melt.
I crowed earlier about finding a first-edition of Frank Herbert's "The White Plague" so I won't recap it again. I did reread it, and enjoyed it again - some of the politics don't really make sense any more but it holds up pretty well.
When I bought that I also picked up a copy of George Will's Men At Work: The Craft of Baseball. This was a big seller back in the day and I had always wanted to read it. There are those (including many amazon.com reviewers) who believe this is The Ultimate Book On Baseball. I beg to differ.
There's plenty of good information in the book, which includes sections on managing, pitching, hitting, and fielding, but the concepts are hardly earth-shattering. You mean teams employ advance scouts to see how their competition is playing? Shocking! And get this - pitchers, hitters, and fielders all make small adjustments according to the situation. This new learning amazes me! Filter this through Mr. Will's sanctimonious style and hidebound traditionalist attitudes and you've got a tough read on your hands. I skimmed quite a bit of it.
At one point he writes that America is "going to hell in a handbasket." And why is that, you ask? Because kids aren't playing baseball as much any more. Some of them are playing
Ok, enough of that.
I was given a copy of Ben Mezrich's Bringing Down The House for my birthday, and I enjoyed reading it. It's a very entertaining "beat the system" story and a fun read. I heard that a movie based on the book is in the works, which I can see, to an extent. The story has plenty of the ingredients for a fun film - an unlikely meteoric rise fueled by secret identities and loads of cash, which leads to salad days of excess, followed by an equally meteoric fall - but there don't seem to be any real consequences for the main protagonist. I'll be interested to see what kind of conflict/resolution the filmmakers introduce to "punch up" the ending a bit.
Next on the docket is Lance Armstrong's autobiography It's Not About the Bike. I'll let you know what I think.
Last Wednesday was Dad's Night at the kids' preschool. Claire, Cameron, and I were all looking forward to it. Sadly, Cameron picked up a bug over Memorial Day weekend, which gave him a fever in the low 100s and a ticket to stay home. He was understandably upset.
And so I found myself with but one twin at Dad's Night this year. Claire missed Cam but we had a fun time stringing bead necklaces and hammering random pieces of wood together. One of the activities was "Give Your Dad A Shave." Sounds scary, doesn't it?
Luckily, the popsicle stick was fairly dull.
Since Cam had to miss the Dad's Night festivities, I told him that we would go do something together this weekend. He chose to go bowling.
We had a good time, although he didn't break 100 like the last time. (Those bumper rails are helpful, but not quite that helpful.) We followed that up with stops at "King Burger" (his name) for lunch and the hardware store for sprinkler parts, soil amendments, and ladybugs.
It was good to have some time to give each of them my full attention.
(The ladybugs were supposed to help control a whitefly problem we're having in the back yard. Most of them did not avail themselves of the cornucopia of bugs available, choosing instead to "fly away home." Oh well - it was worth a shot.)
I run across something like this.
Can somebody please explain?
