October 23, 2007

Covering the Bases - Anniversary Edition

The date on the calendar says one thing, but the date on the posts say another---either or Thursday marks the four year anniversary of this publication. Note it now, celebrate it on Thursday. Hopefully the Sox'll be leading the World Series by that point.

I'm willing to bet that something's gotten fouled up in dates at some point in time; the electronic calendar's highly unlikely to be wrong.

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Because Some Bostonians Aren't Happy

This is a treat.

One Susie Davidson of Brookline, Massachusetts, is not happy that Bostonians are celebrating the near-epic comeback by the 2007 Red Sox in the ALCS against the Indians.

In her newly-founded blog, BostoniansNotRedSoxOrBaseballFans, she unloads on pretty much anyone who cheers for the Sox, because they're bad people. As she puts it,

We believe that the environment, health care, education, global genocide and so many other problems could really benefit from the time and energy (and money!) expended by these buffoons who haven't actually played the game themselves in decades, decked out in $900 worth of Red Sox clothing, armed with $700 tickets and $10 junky hot dogs, with their cars parked at $50 lots.

Thank God I didn't shell out $200 for a Jonathan Papelbon jersey, because then I'd be within her sights as one of the Enemies of the Environment/Health Care/Education/Global Genocide (wherever it may be), etc.

Meh, more Northeastern whining. For what it's worth, she's a Yankees fan:

We actually become Yankees fans by default, even though we never pay attention to their own games. We love being in New York and other states where there is not a Red Sox cap to be seen.

Methinks I hear sour grapes coming from the Mystique and Aura section.

EDIT: These guys have approximately the same view of it that I do.

I'm also hard-pressed to figure out how a single man can wear $900 worth of merchandise. Figure one authentic jersey at $200 from the MLB shop, regular pair of khaki pants or blue jeans (approximately $30-$60), a nondescript pair of tennis shoes ($75), a hat ($30 max) and er...yeah, that's not adding up. T-shirt from Abercrombie & Fitch ($60), cologne by Ralph Lauren ($45), uh...socks and underwear ($10), er, foam #1 finger (~$15) and yeah, that's not $900. You'd have to throw in something like a replica of the World Series championship ring and maybe a Franklin Mint commemorative watch or something similar before you can get towards that magic number.

But hey, what do I know? I'm merely a knuckle-dragging Sox fan.

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October 22, 2007

Very Troubling

"I am terribly vexed", said Commodus, and I echo his sentiment.

I was allocating funds from the recently-acquired paycheck and had finished that for the night---never enough for all line items, but that's why one budgets---and trundled off to bed. I sat down to read this evening's devotional from The Upper Room, as I have for years at this point. Finances were, literally, the last thing I had thought about before climbing the stairs.

And then this evening's reading is Saint Mark, Chapter 12 vv. 41-44. Were this the original Mobile Suit Gundam from the late 1970s, I bet that the Newtype flash would have played in the background.

I have of course included ten percent of net income---see here for an alternative viewpoint---but when one of the major calculations of the evening concerned the percentage, shortly followed by Jesus' harsh analysis, er, one of my particular religious persuasion starts to wonder.

(Mud in your eye, Hitchens, Sam Harris, and the rest of you atheistic lot; give my regards to whatever circle of hell y'all wind up assigned to.)

At least one meaning is implicit---carve your percentage off the gross, not the net. Others may come to me as I think about it. Either way, one gets the sense that the ol' ELF receiver's buzzer may have rung.

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October 21, 2007

Let's Go Red Sox!

Whew, talk about a nailbiter!

Thank God for a Red Sox victory---I predicted as much to a friend that, "Look, the last time they were facing elimination in the ALCS, they won the World Series. I'm not overly concerned. Yet."

I didn't know if I'd eat my words---accurate or not---but I was distinctly concerned with the Red Sox offense and the wisdom of rehashing the Beckett-Sabathia and Shilling-Carmona matchups. Obviously, there's a reason why I'm not in Terry Francona's shoes.

I like these Miller Lite commercials. Certified purveyor of the High Life, indeed.

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October 03, 2007

Wii Would Like to Play with Prince

No, that's not a cheesy double entendre involving the Artist Formerly and Currently Known as, but rather a lame attempt at invoking the subjects of the story.

That is to say that, courtesy of Tennis Served Fresh, Prince is getting into the gaming peripheral business. I don't own a Wii yet---as Sergeant Zim might say, glad you qualified that---but this is an added incentive for me to consider getting one.

It's got a rather nice cost as well, certainly a lot cheaper than Prince's o3. One wonders if there will be a Sharapova edition like I see in the cheap section at Wal-Mart, where my tennis browsing occurs. That is, at least one with her face emblazoned on the packaging. I've never really looked at it that closely.

I would rather that the thing be a Wilson, given the sponsorship package of my favorite player, but that's small beans next to the apparent lack of a real-world Wii tennis game. (I say that as if I was worthy of a real-world game; I can manage at Top Spin on the Xbox only because I play minor tournaments and have never ventured online.)

Yay.

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Angels in the Outfield

...and nothing at the plate, as Josh Beckett leads the Red Sox to a 4-0 victory over the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim.

God's in His heaven and all is right with the world, at least as of 2300 hours here in the East.

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Silence, Explained

So yeah, my employment pattern has shifted for the better and I've been busy right about the time that I'd be hammering out my poorly-wrought posts, which necessarily cuts down on the blogging time.

I've also been playing Il-2: 1946 online like a fiend, slaughtering Soviet airmen in 1941 or so in a Bf 109F or G. I utterly hate the Pe-2; the bloody thing takes a while to kill with a single 20mm cannon and a pair of 7.92mm machine guns.

I regret to say that Erich Hartmann's record has nothing to fear from me, however.

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