Foaming At The Mouth
Mission Statement:
Years have gone by where I've had various inner monologues, rants, raves, criticisms, and praise that I've carefully constructed and edited kicking around my head with nowhere to collect them. The time and place has come to find them a home. Consequently, my objective will be to record not only the events and musings of my life from this day forth, but also the choicer remnants of ideas that I came to in years past but never formally recorded.
I don't do poetry or music or visual arts, I write and write well. I refuse to put my name to something that has not been well thought out and carefully put together as a work of prose engineering. As such, some entries will be short and some entries will be infrequent as I refuse to just barf everything out onto a page just for the sake of saying something. Come to this location strictly for the prolix ravings of a man using words as a tool for escape, as a weapon to articulate the struggles of being too knowledgeable for one's own good and too stupid to avoid being one's own worst enemy.
My existence generally constitutes being either unemployed or criminally underemployed, passing the time with old movies, quixotic attempts at self-improvement, and strong drink. For the time being I have the luxury of devoting time to recording my musings and I do it for my own benefit. Should anyone else draw anything from it, more's the better. My views may be extreme, grotesque, or unpopular, but that scarcely detracts from their validity.
Opening Day
I had planned to make this post on Friday -- a neat bit of synergy as it would be opening day for my writings and opening day for the Chicago Cubs at Wrigley Field. That plan, like many of the Cubs', fell by the wayside. But the topic is no less compelling two-and-a-half days later. Opening Day at Wrigley is nothing less than a minor holiday here on the North side of Chicago. The fact that it fell on a Friday almost diminished it a little. Generally, Opening Day is a rallying point for the community and those who are 'hardcore' demonstrate it by calling for a day off at work (the ones who have steady employment) and go off on a bender, even if it's Wednesday.
Unfortunately, the Wrigley Experience has, for my money, diminished some. Ten years ago, it was a hell of a good time -- good clean drunken fun. Now it's fucking Mardi Gras. Jammed with people drunk beyond their capacity, long waits for food and drink even outside the park, rivers of vomit and urine (citing the SunTimes, some 40% of public urination citations written up on gamedays near Wrigley are for women. Yes I know there aren't enough bathrooms to go around for all the people -- that's my point), it all adds up to more trouble than it's worth.
And what did the hardies who came out to support the Men in Blue get? Transplanted middle-reliever LaTroy Hawkins blows the save with one strike one strike! to go and the Cubs lose it twelve. Watching the parade of shaky Cubs relief pitchers come to the mound is what it must be like for a condemned man to watch his appeals evaporate in the courts.
If nothing else I hope (it won't happen, but I hope) it gets some people to get off Kerry Wood's back. The argument against him now is that, even though he was touted as the second coming of Nolan Ryan just seven short years ago, he's only about three games over .500 over the last three years, with lots of time off for injuries. But anyone who's watched his games over the last year or two can tell, he's had too many games where he's pitched well, given up no more than two earned runs (as he did on Friday) over six or seven innings, but lack for significant run support (one reason why the welcome mat dissolved under Sammy Sosa's feet even before he ditched them in the last game last year) or see the bullpen throw it away.
Not that LaTroy Hawkins should be in that position to bungle it in the first place; even moderately well-informed fans realized he was best suited as a set-up man rather than a true closer. But with a long offseason when a total of zero (0) legit closers stuck to the Cubs' fingers, what else is to be expected? Apparently the dedication to tradition includes falling victim to the same old problems....
Mission Statement:
Years have gone by where I've had various inner monologues, rants, raves, criticisms, and praise that I've carefully constructed and edited kicking around my head with nowhere to collect them. The time and place has come to find them a home. Consequently, my objective will be to record not only the events and musings of my life from this day forth, but also the choicer remnants of ideas that I came to in years past but never formally recorded.
I don't do poetry or music or visual arts, I write and write well. I refuse to put my name to something that has not been well thought out and carefully put together as a work of prose engineering. As such, some entries will be short and some entries will be infrequent as I refuse to just barf everything out onto a page just for the sake of saying something. Come to this location strictly for the prolix ravings of a man using words as a tool for escape, as a weapon to articulate the struggles of being too knowledgeable for one's own good and too stupid to avoid being one's own worst enemy.
My existence generally constitutes being either unemployed or criminally underemployed, passing the time with old movies, quixotic attempts at self-improvement, and strong drink. For the time being I have the luxury of devoting time to recording my musings and I do it for my own benefit. Should anyone else draw anything from it, more's the better. My views may be extreme, grotesque, or unpopular, but that scarcely detracts from their validity.
Opening Day
I had planned to make this post on Friday -- a neat bit of synergy as it would be opening day for my writings and opening day for the Chicago Cubs at Wrigley Field. That plan, like many of the Cubs', fell by the wayside. But the topic is no less compelling two-and-a-half days later. Opening Day at Wrigley is nothing less than a minor holiday here on the North side of Chicago. The fact that it fell on a Friday almost diminished it a little. Generally, Opening Day is a rallying point for the community and those who are 'hardcore' demonstrate it by calling for a day off at work (the ones who have steady employment) and go off on a bender, even if it's Wednesday.
Unfortunately, the Wrigley Experience has, for my money, diminished some. Ten years ago, it was a hell of a good time -- good clean drunken fun. Now it's fucking Mardi Gras. Jammed with people drunk beyond their capacity, long waits for food and drink even outside the park, rivers of vomit and urine (citing the SunTimes, some 40% of public urination citations written up on gamedays near Wrigley are for women. Yes I know there aren't enough bathrooms to go around for all the people -- that's my point), it all adds up to more trouble than it's worth.
And what did the hardies who came out to support the Men in Blue get? Transplanted middle-reliever LaTroy Hawkins blows the save with one strike one strike! to go and the Cubs lose it twelve. Watching the parade of shaky Cubs relief pitchers come to the mound is what it must be like for a condemned man to watch his appeals evaporate in the courts.
If nothing else I hope (it won't happen, but I hope) it gets some people to get off Kerry Wood's back. The argument against him now is that, even though he was touted as the second coming of Nolan Ryan just seven short years ago, he's only about three games over .500 over the last three years, with lots of time off for injuries. But anyone who's watched his games over the last year or two can tell, he's had too many games where he's pitched well, given up no more than two earned runs (as he did on Friday) over six or seven innings, but lack for significant run support (one reason why the welcome mat dissolved under Sammy Sosa's feet even before he ditched them in the last game last year) or see the bullpen throw it away.
Not that LaTroy Hawkins should be in that position to bungle it in the first place; even moderately well-informed fans realized he was best suited as a set-up man rather than a true closer. But with a long offseason when a total of zero (0) legit closers stuck to the Cubs' fingers, what else is to be expected? Apparently the dedication to tradition includes falling victim to the same old problems....
hedy:
that's so right where i lived! i was right across from the CVS on state and division in a big ugly apartment building. craziness...