Four Grand-Slams to Tie

In baseball a "grand-slam" is a play in which all three bases are full of players from the batting team and the batter hits the ball out of the park in fair territory, which itself is called a home-run. A home run with the bases loaded.

It sounds pretty weird when trying to explain it, but I assume that any of my readers are familiar with such a term and such a play in the game of baseball. If that's not the case, then my readership is far and above what I could ever guess. Or just hipsters...

In any case, a grand slam is exciting when your team hits one; hell, it's the best possible outcome in the situation. All three runners score, the batter scores, and nobody makes an out. It sounds silly to expound on the merits of the grand slam, but as long as we agree that it's more rare than common, I'll be done.

My mother's birthday just happened, and seeing as how it was a big one, we decided a good trip would be a trip to a Dodger game at the Stadium on Chavez Ravine. The Dodgers this year started out playing like reheated turds, but a stretch after the All-Star break had them playing like the '98 Yankees, and they'd clawed their way back to not only the top of the NL West, but for a time, to the best record in all of baseball.

Yasiel Puig, the Cuban sensation, plus a mashing Hanley Ramirez have been largely responsible.

Ricky Nolasco, the LA-bred pitcher the Dodgers scooped up on the cheap from the Miami Marlins, was the starting pitcher for our Saturday night game. And, by the way, our Saturday night game was against the Giants, the longtime rivals of our Boys in Blue, and, I'd like to add, what do you think the chances of me finding Saturday night tickets for a Red Sox game in the Bronx are? I'd guess maybe a single ticket for magnitudes of cost more than I paid for four Dodger/Giants game tix. Oh well...

So, Ricky Nolasco labors through the first inning, loading the bases at one point, but giving up only three runs. That's a lot, no doubt, but you get the sense he's off and it could've been more.

Then the Dodgers get their turn, and Yasiel Puig is the leadoff man. I mentioned to Corrie that Puig likes to swing at the first pitch, and I was joking about getting my camera out fast enough. It turned out not to be a joke, as Yasiel put the bat on the ball on that first pitch, sending a liner to center field. I did catch a picture of the ball in the air and Puig off for first, which is kind of a cool action shot:

Puig then went to third on a soft blooper to right field, and scored on a routine groundout, pretty much manufacturing the run by himself. After the first inning was done, the score was 3 - 1 Giants. That was as close as it would get all night.

Nolasco gave up four more runs in the second before getting pulled; his final line was 7 runs give up and only four outs made. Ouch. The 4th and 6th innings were the only innings in which the Giants did not score runs. They loaded the bases in at least four separate innings (1st, 2nd, 5th (they hit a grand slam that inning), and 9th) and even their scrubs were getting in on it--some guy named Britt went 5 for 6 with two RBIs.

Puig scored a second run sometime in the late innings, and, up until then, accounted for 2 of the Dodgers' three hits and both of their runs. Then a Dodger rookie hit a homer to give them 3 runs.

Going into the 9th innings, the Giants were up 17 - 3, and I was joking that the Dodgers were down by two touchdowns. When they scored another run in the 9th I was angry--not because the Dodgers were dropping a stinker on my mom's birthday game (I was far over that), but because my two touchdown joke would no longer work. But then they scored another run, making the score 19 - 3, and we realized that it would take the Dodgers four grand slams to tie the game, which makes baseball fans' heads explode.

Puig laid out for a blooper--diving to catch it--and roughed himself up a little. He stayed in the game for a bit, scored that second run, and then was replaced, taken out as a precautionary tactic in game that had ceased to be important.

I hope my mom had a good time. Besides the score, it was pretty exciting. Dan had purchased a spot on the scoreboard to read, "Happy Birthday Kate (last name)! Enjoy the Game!" We took a picture of it with Corrie's nice camera, but are still getting pictures offloaded. Thanks Dan!

I'll always remember having a good time, sitting up high, getting to see Puig do his young DiMaggio impression, and a laugher of a result.

Happy Birthday Mom!

Test Run

I'm using this post as a test run of some equipment. I didn't mean to have my mother's birthday post be about my issues with my new laptop (which I'm not currently using...).

This is only a test...

Happy Birthday Mom!

It's a big birthday for my mom today, but I'll refrain from the number. I'm on my new laptop, which has been throwing some curveballs my direction. Does anyone know why Google Chrome sucks on Windows 8? Should it suck, fully and completely?

In any case, I have no photos yet, but this weekend we're heading to a Saturday night Dodger/Giant game, which should be exciting.

Love you, mom!

"The Rig", and Calling-Out Absurdities

The other day I was answering a text. The text I had received was reminding me that I had the next day off--it was Rosh Hashanah--and while thumb-typing on my phone, it started spazzing. It was ringing, and I turned it to see who was calling: Tony.

Tony, one of my closest and oldest friends, calling late (for him in Louisiana)...in those times I happily answer the call and talk for maybe ninety minutes, whereas I hand the phone over to Corrie, and they talk for another ninety or so.

Tony, currently working off-shore, spends bulks of time on a boat and in the water (hopefully for him), housed around time on-shore. He was regaling me with the day-to-day operations with his company and their current frustrations and I was regaling him with inner workings of the LA Metro and bike commuting in the 'hood.

I handed off the phone to Corrie once my ear felt sufficiently chewed up by my pocket super-computer and spent a while perusing Netflix. I came across a horror movie called The Rig, a 2011 offering about an off-shore rig in the Gulf letting loose an unspeakable evil, and a storm coming through to conveniently trap the characters with that evil. I told Tony and Corrie that I would take one for the team and try out the feature and see how long I could last watching it. Likely, I was guessing, I would have to turn it off rather quick, as so many of those Netflix "gems" are atrocious.

I was pleasantly surprised with The Rig. While it wasn't great, and even 'good' would be a stretch, it was certainly serviceable. I made it through the entire thing, besides doing some dishes in the middle and getting Tux's food going. Like any good monster movie, it get's infinitely less interesting when we audience members get to see the monster, though here at least the reveal came slowly and drawn out over multiple scenes. And, true to form, the girl who showed her boobs to the camera was killed violently.

After I got the phone back and started my evening's farewell to Tony, we chatted about the next day. He had to work at the shop, a boring and thankless way to spend the day, but at least it was work, since the times are slow at the moment. He then wished me well for the next day's work, and I mentioned that I had the day off for Rosh Hashanah.

"I didn't you were Jewish!" he joked, knowing me fairly well. The he asked, mostly earnestly, "Could I call-out Jewish tomorrow? Is that a thing I could do?"

We shared a laugh on that for a time and then proceeded to our separate sleep-zones.

The Wedding; and Reflections: NYC Trip

Like the trip we took to Central America, our temporal proximity to this event makes true reflection difficult.

We got to see my cousin Liz marry her Englishman Chris in a beautiful ceremony at my Uncles' place near Hillsdale, NY. Corrie took the picture's for that, and we're still sorting them for Liz and Chris, so none will show up here. I oddly didn't have my camera on me...

New York remains one of the few places to which both Corrie and I would happily move. A tiny visit makes you long for more time, if you're a weirdo like us, one of the self identified New Yorkers who can't understand why anyone would want to leave in the first place.

The trip, while physically draining, was emotionally rejuvenating, and I can't think of a better complement of New York City itself, if, you know, you're into the place, a weirdo like us...

Until next time...just waiting for the train...

More Walking; Old friends; Spontaneity vs Plans: NYC Trip

An Aussie friend of mine from high school, whom I hadn't seen since freshmen year of college while we were both visiting Sacramento nearly seventeen years ago, is living in the Lower East Side and enjoying the hell out of the energy and nightlife of the area. She just finished up a master's degree in something at NYU. We met up for dinner after the museum, or it was the next day...maybe it was the next day...no, it was after the museum...

In any case, we ate at a fancy little place called Pig and Khao, a Filipino-BBQ fusion place that was very tasty. I would recommend it. Afterwards we remanded ourselves to a watering hole for cocktails and reminiscing, and I didn't have the heart to remind her that I had never been to her house for parties, nor had I been to the river for parties, not that she would have believed me had I tried. I had been neatly pasted into her memories of those times back in school. We were close, sure, in class, and in the Wilderness Club with Imai, but I'm fairly certain I wasn't partying at her folk's big house with the rest of them. I may have had a few beers since then, and many memories of that time are fuzzy, but I know I didn't hit up any of those parties.

In any case, the evening was pleasant and nice, and we chatted into the wee hours of the night before peeling off to go back to the hotel, riding the train instead of walking. We were exhausted.

The next day we made it over to Wine:30, the wine restaurant operated by an old Turkish friend of mine named Vulcan. Vulcan and another friend Ben, opened the place together back in 2009, and I lent my hands, back, knife skills, and general expertise to the cause, and was on hand for the first few shaky weeks. It got a little dicey between Vulcan and Ben as well, and I was the mediator during the times when they weren't speaking.

But that was four years ago, and now the place is booming and Vulcan figured out a way to expand his space twice---which is nigh impossible in Manhattan. He's got a son and a pregnant wife and still carries himself with that harried look of someone who doesn't sleep enough. When he saw me he said, "Patrick! Life must be good--you've gained weight!" Vulcan's great.

Photo Dump Section

Here comes another barrage of pictures from walking around.

The first picture is from inside the scaffolding-clad St. Patrick's Cathedral: (The outside was hidden.)

This next picture is of the St. Bart's Byzantine Cathedral, the only one like it in the City, and the site of one of the fine cuisine restaurants I worked at while living in Brooklyn. I know the labyrinthine halls of that church better than I probably should:

This is a random angle shot of Grand Central Station:

The lion from the NY Public Library, as seen in many films and pictures (like Ghostbusters):

From inside the library, everything is marble:

From the Irish Hunger Memorial. Like the Highline, this is a must see hidden gem for visitors:

We had plans to do and see things, but we didn't want to be rigid about them. Also, we tried to resist the other desire: to sit in a bar and drink. We didn't go to shop, or see a whole lot of shows, but we did feel like tourists in our own town. Take away shopping and shows and you get our sights; walking; and drinking.

But one thing we did need to rigorously plan, and hold to the plan, was the WTC site. It's still a construction mess, and we only had time to go on our last day in the City proper, Friday, after which we would be collecting Dan and Lupita and heading north on a train.

Because of the construction, the Port Authority, which governs the site, requires a ticket and lets in large groups, but the snaking line goes for nearly a mile around the perimeter fence. The actual memorial, when everything is said and done and anyone will be able to visit and there won't be any need for fences and tickets, will be quite solemn and quietly spectacular. The footprint waterfalls show off how humongous the towers were, and the Freedom Tower, directly adjacent, is nearly beyond comprehension at that proximity.

Here's part of the snaking line:

Here's one of the waterfalls, Tower 1 I believe:

Here's the waterfall-footprint for Tower 2, lined up better that the previous picture:

Here's the Freedom Tower, still being worked on and not as striking as I had hoped, or imagined maybe, but it is staggeringly big, a sensation sadly lost in photographs:

I'm trying to rush through these last few posts because 1) I want to be done by the end of August; and 2) I got a new lappy and I need to start moving photographs over to our cloud device.

Not that anyone really cares about that...

Highlights from the Museum of Natural History: NYC Trip

The American Museum of Natural History is one of the classic jewels of the New York City museum circuit. Established over a hundred years ago by Teddy Roosevelt---the idea that children are able to learn about nature and the world was paramount for Teddy.

We'd always wanted to go while we lived in Brooklyn, but we never had time. We got pretty close once, but then needed to rest on the specific day we were to go. Oh well.

Upon entering on pretty much any day, you get in a long line in a zoo-like atmosphere, in a grand entrance with a  few allosauruses trying to take down a big brachiosaur:

The lines, two total, one on each side of the great hall, while incredibly long, move at quite a clip, as there are maybe ten banks of "entrant tellers" who collect the now non-mandatory "donation". There had been a lawsuit that the museums lost about their "suggested donations" being mandatory, and about how that becomes an entrance fee instead of a "donation", and that having "entrance fees" changed the nature of the tax exemptions and City subsidies that these establishments enjoy. So now they ask you if you'd like to donate the $44 for two adults that is the suggested donation.

I paid it because the institution of the museum my be my favorite...maybe libraries...my attitude changes from week to week...

So once inside, there are a few important staples, like the blue whale and the [most] famous T-Rex head [in the world].

But, along the walk there are some cool things, like the giant clam shell, complete with a sign that says "No Sitting!" (or something to that effect):

(Corrie almost sits in it)

When you get to the sea life hall, the full size model of the blue whale is more spectacular that you imagine it'll be, stretching off far across the hall's breadth:

There are some of the craziest dioramas I've ever seen inside this room. My photographs don't really do them justice.

One mollusk I couldn't resist putting in: it's called the "fat gaper" and looks, eh...you can't make this up:

Then there are lots of models, life size of course, but made out of plaster or plastic, and they let you know how exotic and crazy life gets on this rock.

One of my favorite sea critters is the living fossil coelacanth. The lobe-fin fish is closer to terapods (walking animals from long ago) than to regular ray-fin fish (every other type of fish besides sharks). I think they're pretty cool:

Then you eventually get to the DINOSAURS! Not sure why I used all-caps, but everyone's inner-child loves dinosaurs.

Here's the main bad-ass, Tyrannosaurus Rex:

And here's deinonychus, a close cousin of the velociraptors from Jurassic Park imaginations, but it seems like today's science agrees that they most likely had a furry coat of feathers:

This is my favorite vegetarian dinosaur, the stegosaurus:

Then you come to, eventually, the ice-age era rooms, with the skeletons of the mega-fauna of the mammalian variety. And here we get super moose:

There's even a primate wing, and I especially like this gibbon skeleton, stretching, I like to imagine, human like to get some top-shelf liquor:

And then my camera's battery died. A very long day having "ended" at nearly four pm, we walked back down to a place for drinks and snacks, before heading to dinner with a friend I hadn't seen in some seventeen years.

Here's one last shot of me: