Bullpen? More like Shitpen.

I just listened to the worst game I've ever heard on the radio. The Sox had a nine run lead going into the bottom of the 7th and lost 11-10. Terrible. The bullpen allowed 10 runs! Easily the worst game I've ever heard or seen. Makes me sick to my stomach. Nothing else to say about it.

Pride's Corner

Went to the drive in again with Breanne last weekend, this time to the one in Westbrook. It was 7 bucks a person, which ended up being the same as Saco, which is 14 dollars a car. Saco was showing UP! and The Hangover while Pride's Corner in Westbrook was showing Transformers 2 and Star Trek, so we opted for Westbrook.
Transformers 2 was about as bad as you'd expect. There were some confusing fight scenes that involved bright flashes of medal and explosions. What I noticed most about the beginning was the gaping plot holes and bad acting. One moment there was a robot fight in Los Angeles and somewhere in a big city and Asia, and the next second the government was denying it. But that didn't matter once John Turturro stepped on to the screen. He's one of my favorite actors. I guess I started getting more interested at that point- they went to the Smithsonian, then the pyramids in Giza- and then the movie was upside down. The whole picture was flipped and the audio was crackly. The motorists/viewers, parked on their grass moguls, started laying on their horns and yelling out windows. It was literally at the climax of the film that the reel got flipped.
We turned the radio off so we couldn't hear the audio and started watching the shouting and gesticulating people milling around the concession stand. We walked over after a while and discovered that there was nothing that could be done; the reel had to play out until the next movie started. The guy running the place was a bit worked up, understandably, but he gave everyone free passes for their trouble.
We went back to the car and waited to see if Star Trek would be upside down.
It was not. And the best part is enough people left that we were able to move our car up a couple of rows right into the center, literally the best spot in the parking lot.
And it was a good movie. I was never much of a Star Trek fan, and I've never seen any of the other movies, but I liked this one a lot. The actor who played Spock was particularly good. The story was interesting too. It reminded me of an episode of the show my brother used to have on tape. I think that was Star Trek: the Next Generation though, because Patrick Stewart was the captain and the last line of the episode was "Five card stud, joker's wild, the sky is the limit." Not sure why I remember that but it seemed important at one time.
Breanne seemed captivated with the movie too, actually staying awake till the end of the movie.

Miracles

I read this article today on a "miracle" that happened in Witchita, KS. The article is about both Chase Kear's recovery and the canonization of Father Emil Kapaun.
Kear suffered a very serious head injury after falling on his head during pole vaulting practice for his college team. His skull was cracked from "ear to ear," and his chance of pulling through was slim. His family "frantically" started praying for his recovery, specifically praying in the name of Father Emil Kapaun, a former Army chaplain and war hero.
We hear about miracles all the time. They're so common it's silly to call them miracles. What makes this story interesting is that the Vatican is sending a postulate to Witchita to investigate. I guess the postulate is going to look at medical records, X-rays, other things he/she probably knows nothing about, in an attempt to determine whether a miracle happened or not.

"There is no doubt in anyone's mind in our family that Father Kapaun helped save our son," Paula Kear said of Chase, who is making a full recovery.

This type of reaction upsets me. Faith, though often misdirected, can play an important role in recovery. The power of positive thinking can help in the healing process. It cannot, however, perform the surgery that was needed to save their son. If there's anyone this family should be celebrating and praising it's the doctors and nurses, those who actually did the saving.
Incidentally, the head surgeon, Dr. Grundmeyer, also mentioned that he viewed it "a miracle." I wonder if he means it in the same way that the family does. It doesn't say.
I'm interested to see what comes of the investigation.

Movie List

While organizing my CDs, trying to make room for my newest purchases, I came across a flurescent green sticky note with a list of movies on it. I recognized it immediately as a sticky note from Videostop, the movie store I worked at in Lebanon, NH. I had created a couple of fake accounts to keep track of movies I wanted to see. You see, each account would have a "comments box" that I would fill with movie titles. When one filled up, I'd start a new account. I could have just kept the list on paper, but paper is easily and often thrown away.
I made a few of these lists, so I'm hoping the other ones will pop up some time.
These were the movies on the list:
Crash, Fitzgeraldo, Powder, Jonestown, Volver, Lenny, The Wrong Guy, Reds, The French Connection, Strawberry and Chocolate, The Insider, Doc Hollywood, Factotum, Cube, Hoop Dreams, the Ladykillers, White Noise, Little Man Tate, Platoon, The Sting, Princess Mononoke, The Birdcage, Natural Born Killers, Passengers, Alexander, Tennants, The Killing Fields, The Office (American Version)
In the two years or so since making this list, I've seen The Insider, The Sting, The Ladykillers, and most of the American Office. That's 4 out of 28, 1/7, not bad. Once I get Netflix back I'll knock off a few more of these.

Facebook works!

I hate to do it, but this will be the 2nd straight Facebook related blog entry.
The reason? Facebook has finally provided me with a service- it's actually done something of value! On a whim, I searched for my friend Joseba, who lived with me for a summer in high school through an exchange program. He was from a town near Barcelona, and spoke little English when he arrived. I recall the first night staying up late with my sister and Joseba trying to determine what his high school's mascot was. We figured out that it was a type of squirrel, only to late discover it was a type of badger.
I grew close with him over the course of the summer. We hung out pretty much every day and was very sad to see him go.
Well, after not speaking to him for 11 years, I found him on Facebook and we've been messaging each other. It's truly great. So, for once, I'm happy I signed up with Facebook.

Funny Comment

Recently read the funniest comment I've ever seen on facebook.
Alex Steed, a guy I met in college, shared a comment that he was disappointed in the lack of respect displayed by a certain friend leaving a comment on a note/picture of his. Alex is a good guy- he wasn't trying to make anyone feel guilty or stupid, just lamenting the typical result of trying to post something serious on facebook. What he basically wrote was he thought his facebook friends would be more grown-up.

His friend's comment:
"If you can't trust your closest 1,425 friends, who can you trust?"

Alex has 1,425 friends (I checked).
This post is by no means a shot at Alex. He's one of the most honest and hard working people I've ever met, but I just couldn't resist sharing the humor in this conversation of comments.
I have several friends that have thousands of "friends" on facebook. It's all a matter of putting in the time, or bothering to, of adding each person you encounter. I think of friends differently than most people. I don't believe a person can have 1,400+ friends, not in the real world, and not by my definition of the word friend. Some people accumulate "friends" for show, others in a forthright attempt to keep in touch with every person they meet, even fleetingly. As my dad likes to say, To each his own. Of course, when he says it he means "I don't like the way you think."

Wiffle 2

Had the 2nd wiffle party last night. Went pretty well. Not nearly as good a turn out as the first one but we had 18-20 people there at it's height. Less people had it's advantages- few sat out any of the games, unlike last month when certain party goers had to wait out a couple games to get any playing time.
It was a fun day. Jordan showed up around noon bearing gifts. "Birthday" presents, he got Breanne a book called "Signspotting" that was a collection of photos of funny and nonsense signs collected all over the world. Some very funny stuff in it. Jordan got me a few records, Jazz mostly. He's burned me a few CDs over the years trying to introduce me to Jazz. 5 or 6 records, I'm listening to one now.
Anyhow, my brother was the only other person here by 1 (the start time). A few people cancelled last second, but every one else was just plain late. Lots of folks didn't show up till 2 or later. The Reardons came, Jesse and Joe, and Jess instantly got drunk on one Bud Lime Light and made the day especially entertaining. Chrismike, Zack, The Wings, the Vitis, Manda and Greg, and obviously Breanne, and Carrie and Matt showed up as wiffle ball was winding down. I'm probably forgetting some people, sorry if you're reading this now and I forgot about you.
We probably got 5 games or so in, with my brother being the obvious MVP, hitting multiple home runs and pitching and playing the field exceptionally. I couldn't hit a lick for some reason but I made some good plays in the field. Jesse also put in an MVP effort, lining a home run off of me and tattooing a double off the right field foul pole, thus granting himself the right to name it. He was leaning towards JM pole or something like that but I'm not sure what he went with. Ethan hit a HR off the left field pole, not long after Jesse hit the other one. It was generally accepted that he'd do it eventually, lining multiple balls down the first base line. I think I'm going to call his pole "Lucky's Pole" after his dream sobriquet, Lucky Corneo.
Everyone was pooped after 7 hours of wiffle so after a few Karaoke songs the party sort of dissipated till it was over.
I'm excited to see the pictures taken with Jesse's camera. I tried to snap some cool shots during the first game while I was umping.

PETA at it again

Give me a break

What if?

Jesse introduced me to a new website the other day, whatifsports.com. It's a site dedicated to fantasy predictions and projections. It allows you to created dream teams and fantasy rosters and pit them against each other.

At the moment, we're each creating a fantasy team with an $80mil salary cap. Here's the team I've got so far (25 man roster)

STARTERS

C - 1992 Chris Hoiles

1B - 1987 Will Clark

2B - 2007 Dustin Pedroia

3B - 1974 Brooks Robinson

SS - 1961 Maury Wills

LF - 1953 Ted Williams

CF - 1956 Roberto Clemente

RF - 1996 Juan Gonzalez

BENCH

SS - 1994 Omar Vizquel

1B - 2006 Howie Kendrick

OF - 1991 Dwight Evans

C - 1987 Mike Stanley

OF - 1982 Brett Butler

ROTATION

SP - 1964 Sandy Koufax

SP - 1991 Randy Johnson

SP - 1967 Luis Tiant

SP - 2007 Felix Hernandez

SP - 2000 Javier Vazquez

RP - 1973 Frank Tanana

RP - 2008 John Smoltz

RP - 1997 Chad Fox

RP - 2000 Bob Wickman

RP - 1965 Steve Carlton

RP - 1885 Unknown Palmer

RP - 2002 Troy Percival (closer)

Now if this team were somehow compiled in real life, no existing team, from any year, would beat them. The rotation is better than the '93 Braves and the offense is better than the '75 Reds. I think the defense it better than what the Reds had too.

Naturally, I made a little collage of some of the best players on the team.

Dumb Behaviour

The only way I'm going to get this terrible incident out of my head is to put it down in words.
Breanne and I were walking back to the house from Rite Aid yesterday- she was picking out some graduation cards for her cousins. I'd been feeling sick the last couple of days, sleeping a lot and not eating much, so I went with her to get some fresh air. As we're strolling down the sidewalk, a truck speeds by and someone in the vehicle screams out the window at us in what I assume is an attempt to scare. Being in a bad mood, I flipped the truck off. The driver slammed on his brakes, turned around in a driveway and came flying back towards us. The truck, teal green, screeches to a stop in the middle of the lane going the other way and the driver gets out of the truck.
It's a guy with a buzz cut, roughly my age, glasses, in full army fatigues and steel toed boots. In the street, the camouflage suit does the opposite that it's intended to, making him very visible and clownish looking. His name tag says Thompson. He instantly challenges me to a fight.
He is clearly worked up and gets right in my face, hoping I take the bait and retaliate.
I explain to him why I flipped him off and that I considered what he did a rude thing to do. In his defense, he claims "it's a free country." I think that's just about the stupidest thing I've ever heard, and I hadn't heard it since elementary school. I argued that obviously I wouldn't have flipped him off if he hadn't screamed out the window at us.
"It was my brother who screamed, not me," he says.
"Well why are you the one out here threatening me then?"
"My brother could kick your ass too."
It was at this moment that I recognized him. About three months ago, we were both hired on the same day to work at Interstate Brands in Biddeford. We sat through a two hour orientation together, and I recall talking with him for a while. I remember him being mousy and polite. And at that moment, I'm certain it's him.
I tell him I know him. That we had orientation together at Interstate Brands.
He starts to stutter and says, "I've been gone the last month."
I tell him it was about three months ago. Then I ask him what his name is.
He sheepishly tells me it's Shawn.
He pretended not to remember me and starts heading back to his truck. He can't resist throwing a parting shot and yells, "I'd kick your ass but I don't want to go to jail."
Still suffering from my fight/flight adrenaline, I say, "Then why did you get out of the truck?" Breanne pulls my arm and says let's go and so I start walking back to the house.
Shawn and his brother, and a girl sandwiched between them in the truck cab, whiz by us, revving the engine, going at least 50 past the 25 speed limit sign. They didn't scream this time and I didn't flip them off.

The conversation was longer than that. I'm sure I've forgotten a few things he said and a few things I said. I wasn't as calm as I made myself out to be, but I was more practical than the ape in the army pants was. The problem with this whole encounter though isn't that there are stupid people like Shawn out there, dressing up in his fighting suit and tooling around looking for a confrontation. I was the problem.
I encouraged Shawn by flipping him off. I didn't have to do that. I certainly shouldn't have done it with Breanne at my side. Shawn could have been some maniac that was actually looking for a fist fight, and not just some sorry soldier trying to look tough in front of his little brother. Perhaps if I hadn't recognized him he wouldn't have gotten uncomfortable and walked away. Any number of things could have happened.
The point is, I feel embarrassed for my behaviour. I should be wiser than that, and though it's a cliche, I'm really too old for that sort of thing. Everyone gets worked up and overexcited sometimes, but I feel ashamed that Breanne had to see me arguing with some loser, looking just as stupid as he did.

Star Wars

Breanne dropped another unforgettable line the other day. I just purchased a 2002 Movie Guide, for $1, the other day and we were quizzing each other about actors and Oscars and the such. I was flipping through the cast index and asking her to tell me 3 or 5 or 10 movies that so-and-so was in. I asked her to name me 3 movies that Mark Hamill appeared in. She said Who is that? and I told her it was Luke Skywalker. She's not terribly familiar with the Star Wars movies but she knew all she had to do was name the three titles in the trilogy.
Her answers:

1. Star Wars
2. Dark Force
3. The Next Generation

Piazza

Found this article on Mike Piazza. I always knew he was taken late in the draft but I didn't realize he was such a long shot. Piazza

Breanne's Vacation

Breanne had vacation this week so on Monday morning we headed north. We played a couple rounds of minigolf at Deb's in Randolph and chatted with Jen for a while then ate dinner with my parents and stayed the night in Gardiner.
Early the next morning we headed up to The Forks, despite the bad weather. We got there around 11 am and soon decided to push our bike ride up a day and make the trip to Greenville. We'd been planning to do the trip at some point during the week and it wasn't raining and reasonably warm so we figured it was as good a time as any.
We left the car at the east end of Brochu road. The weather was pretty nice, little bits of rainfall here and there. It's a fairly hard ride, with several long hills and loose soil which makes it harder for the tires to find purchase and ascend. Breanne is just learning to use the gears on her bikes and she's picking up quickly. I had to wait for her at the top of a lot of the hills but she never gave up even on the biggest, steepest ones.
At one point in the trip I feared I'd taken a wrong turn. I remembered coasting by a small "Y" in the road and the more I thought about it the bigger the Y grew until I was convinced I'd chosen the wrong arm. Eventually I saw the Greenville dump sign though and knew we were only a few miles from Greenville and the southern tip of Moosehead lake. We finally got into town, hit tar, and rolled under the railroad bridge and up to Kelly's Landing in Greenville.
We both had the seafood chowder for an appetizer while a Michael McDonald song played on the radio. Breanne didn't like her meal, something deep fried, but I enjoyed my clam strips. At one point we heard "Break my Stride" by Matthew Wilder. We split an enormous ice cream sundae, which is what I think didn't agree with Breanne. Ice cream and seafood don't usually mix well.
It started to rain the second we started on the return trip, and then an absolute flood started falling on us. It poured the entire road back which made the riding difficult and a bit dangerous at times, but in time we rounded the last corner and saw the CRV waiting for us in a puddle. We were both drenched to the core. I forgot to mention it, but we saw two moose on the trip- one on the way there, one on the way back. I almost hit the one on the way there as I didn't see it because I was looking over my shoulder at Breanne. The moose was looking at Breanne too and it wasn't until she screamed that the beast and I saw each other and averted a collision.
Back at the camp I started a fire and we ate some pizza that Breanne cooked on top of the wood stove. We played some cribbage and listened to the Sox beat up on Burnett and the Yankees and we both fell asleep quickly. I was awoken in the night by the radio suddenly blaring on but it was fortunate because I was able to stoke the fire and get it roaring again.
We woke up to more rain the next day and decided to go kayaking. The water was rough and again we got wet but it was a good time. We paddled out to the widest and deepest part of the lake, beyond the narrowest spot which lies just to the left of our dock. The water was choppy and extremely black and the sky was thick with clouds, no sunshine passing through. We fed some ducks off the dock too. A mother and 9 ducklings. One duckling was distant from the rest, didn't go for the bread unless you landed it at it's feet and didn't seem to take to the water like the rest of them. I thought it might be blind or dim.
We decided to cut the trip short after going inside. The rain showed no sign of stopping and Breanne was anxious to get to Hodgdon and see her family. We packed everything up, cleaned up the camp, and hit the road by 1 or so. We took the back way to Bingham, following the Troutdale road, and took route 2 out Skowhegan towards Newport, where we got on 95. We found out the next day that about an hour or so before we passed through Skowhegan there had been an armed robbery at a bank downtown. Ski masks, motorcycles and rifles and we'd missed the whole thing.
It was 6:45 when we pulled in the driveway in Hodgdon. It was nice to see Tim and Kathy again and we all watched the Sox defeat the Yanks before hitting the hay.
Did all sorts of stuff up in Hodgdon: visited her Memere and Pepe, checked out Shin falls east of Patten, went to an Amish store, went to Volumes where I bought a thick Movie Guide book (info on most every film released up until 2002) and Forrest Gump- I've always wanted to read that, made a shoe shelf with much help from Breanne's dad, played a lot of bullshit and other card games, ran around with her dog Bella and the neighbor's dog Abby, annoyed their cat Spike with a Casio keyboard, ate a lot of Moxie floats, and watched the Penguins win the Stanley cup.
On the way home we met my mom in Augusta and Breanne bought a bike helmet and my mom got me some cleats for softball. She owed me a pair because she donated mine without asking me while I was in California. I was going to use them today (Sunday) but the double-header got rained out.

Champions 12, Five Star 2

Trounced? Yes. Demoralized? No.
We lost 12 to 2 this morning to Champions, the perenial champion of the Biddeford Softball league. It wasn't nearly as bad as we thought it would be. A couple bad innings that were prolonged by errors in the field made the difference, and our sleeping bats. I have to give it to the other pitcher though. He was throwing some nasty stuff, as far as slow pitch softball goes. Lots of back spin and coming at you from odd angles. He kept inducing ground balls. Seems like that's all anybody could do today: hit ground balls. We must have grounded out 15 times.
I grounded out twice, once into a fielders choice and once to second though I somehow beat the throw to first. I ran hard the first time but a little harder in my next at bat. I was trying to hit a line drive to right, over the second baseman's head but I was plagued by the same disease that seemed to affect everyone in the yellow and blue today (those are our colors).
The last year I played, 2005, we started the season against Champions as well. They beat us 22-1 that year; I suffered that loss on the mound. Though we lost by 10 runs, it wasn't by the mercy rule and it was closer than it sounds. We made a few errors in both the infield and outfield.
I had an OK game all around. I was hoping to put a charge into one of the pitches but it didn't happen. I'm hitting .500 though. In my second at bat, I took the first pitch and it was a strike. Since we begin each at bat with a 1-1 count (a ball and a strike) I was already behind 1-2. I took the next pitch because it almost hit me then hit the infield single to 2nd. In the field I was more consistent. I took over for Reynoldo in Left in the fourth inning on the first play caught a sinking line drive about chest high. I played a couple on hops, the first one I may have tried for with two outs, and caught towering pop up that took forever to come down. I barely had to take a step for that one but the anticipation was brutal. I hate real high ones. I much prefer an incoming ball which gives me less time to react or is hit way over my head or in front of me. I like to run balls down.
Heath, one of Corey's friends, had the best hit of the day. With Kelly on first, he ripped a triple to right field over the OF's heads. He probably would have had a HR if Kelly hadn't been on. Tim then hit what I thought would be a routine ground out to short stop but the guy bobbled it and Heath scored. Those were our only two runs, back to back. I'm going to work on hitting more line drives.
I rode my bike to and from Doran Field in Biddeford. It wasn't too bad, flat most of the way. I passed Jesse on the way to the field. 7.1 miles, 14.2 in all. I'm going to start biking to most of the games. I felt warmed up when I got there. And next week the new jerseys we ordered will be in. I'm wearing 42 this year in honor of Jackie Robinson.

Microfiction

Microfiction is a hobby of mine. Microfiction can be best defined as really short stories. It's easier than writing a standard short story, but it can still be challenging to get a story across in about 250 words. Someone lent me a book of microfiction in high school and I ended up loaning my copy to someone else. I found another one at a big book sale in San Francisco.
I've tried to write several pieces of microfiction. Here's one I wrote a week ago or so. I posted on a "microfiction salon" page on facebook that one of my friends created. It's called Aquamarine.

Susan couldn’t tolerate him any longer. His reaction on leaving the theatre was always the same: “They certainly got what was comin’ to ‘em!”
A Passage to India. Terminator 2. Passion of the Christ. Gorillas in the Mist. The Diary of Anne Frank. Always the same reaction.

The next morning his breakfast was gone in roughly 45 seconds. Under a minute for 2 eggs, 4 strips of bacon, toast, and an indiscernible amount of home fries. Inhaled, like miscellaneous fuselage being sucked into a giant jet engine before the plane explodes. But he didn’t explode. He just burped and shot both hands into the air and shouted, “Ladies and Gentleman, a new World record!”

With Charles and Rose off to college in completely opposite directions (this was a fact she had verified by use of a ruler on three separate occasions) she couldn’t very well leave. The children were still children and though they would never say it out loud, they still needed their mommy. Susan couldn’t tolerate him but would have to.

And tonight, pen locked in her teeth, knees bent and reading glasses on, she’d asked him for an eight-letter word for “greenish blue” and his answer was aquamarine

Saco Drive-in

Went to my first drive-in tonight. It was in Saco, only a few miles from my house. Breanne and I were buying some plants today and going to Martel's and we happened by the Saco Drive-In and remembered we'd planned to go there some time. Tonight they were playing Land of the Lost and one of the Fast and Furious movies. I'd been wanting to see Land of the Lost as it was a favorite TV show of mine when I was little so we decided to go.
We bought some kettle corn and a couple of Arnie Palmers at Hannaford and headed over. It cost 14 bucks to get in (that's for a car of two, it's 3 dollars for each extra human) and the guy in the booth told us we had to park beyond the 3rd row because we had four-wheel drive.
The parking area was grass moguls slashed with gravel paths for driving on. There were already 40 or so cars in the lot and we picked a spot near the middle of the fourth row from the screen.
After 30 minutes of so, listening to Ian Kinsler wallop a ball into the Monster seats for a 3-run homer, it was dark enough to start the movie and we tuned our radio to 88.1 to get the audio signal.
The movie was OK. It had some funny lines and Will Ferrell was amusing. I thought his trailer trash sidekick, I forget his name, was funny. I think he was in Tropic Thunder. The special effects were pretty fantastic though I wish we'd had 3-D glasses. It looked like some of the dinosaurs and maybe the giant crab were in 3-D. I remember liking the TV show more, though chances are it wasn't any good. My poor eyesight made it difficult at times and Breanne and I decided next time we'd drive the PT over and park closer to the screen.
After the movie Breanne walked over to the concessions and found a bathroom. She said the restrooms were clean and the concessions had a lot of choices. We didn't stick around for the Fast and Furious movie. We're hoping that soon they have a double feature which includes two movies we wouldn't mind seeing. All in all it was a cool experience and I wish they'd had one in Gardiner when I was growing up.

John Denver Rambo

In the Rite Aid parking lot, Breanne and I were laughing at her behaviour earlier in the day when she thought someone had swiped our havahart trap. She thought it was missing from the back of the garden and took off into the bamboo thicket, spade in hand, with some harebrained intention of catching a thief. After coming up with several possible, though not plausible, possibilities, I looked in the back of the PT Cruiser and saw the trap sitting on the blue tarp, right where I'd left it.

Back at Rite Aid, we were laughing as Breanne backed up the CRV and mocked herself running into the bamboo, "I was like John Denver!"
I didn't understand the analogy. "What?"
"Wait, I meant Rambo."

That's probably the strangest slip of the tongue I've ever heard.

Kung Fu Kotzwarraism

David Carradine died two days ago. He was 72.
Carradine was famous for his role of Kwai Chang Caine on the 70s TV show Kung Fu, though most people probably recognize him from the Kill Bill movies and numerous under-produced TV karate episodes.
When his death was first announced two days ago, Bangkok papers did not release the cause of death out of respect for his family. So I figured he either killed himself or had a heart attack while sodomizing a 10-year-old Chinese boy.
Today, Thai papers released a report that Carradine was found naked hanging in a closet of a luxury suite at a swanky hotel. He had a rope tied around his neck and a rope around his genitals.
Though it's painfully obvious, Thai police and reporters are ignoring the fact that he died performing autoerotic asphyxiation, or kotzwarraism in the Far East. Authorities claim that the official cause of death won't be known for a few weeks until the autopsy is done, because everything "is still unclear." Yeah, sure.
Even Carradine's family and friends are coming out and saying they know David would never kill himself. For one, that's a stupid thing to say. Anyone is capable of killing themselves and I'm confident a vast majority of septuagenarians have considered it at one time in their 70+ years. But since they're eliminating the possibility of suicide, we're left with two options: "scarfing" or a freaky murder by some sexual avant garde artist/killer. I guess the latter is possible.
If indeed he did die of autoerotic asphyxiation, I feel bad for the guy. I think people should be able to perform whatever odd and fetishist sexual acts they want as long as they're not hurting others. The few articles I read lead me to believe he wasn't suicidal, but that's a moot hypothesis.
The manager of the Swissotel Nai Lert Park Hotel, where Carradine's body was found, said that the night before he was found he had played piano for guests in the lobby and even a flute solo. Suicides don't play the flute. He was also working on several movie projects at the time, one of which the director said "he was very excited to be working on."
He's not the first celebrity to die this way. The last one I can recall was Michael Hutchence, lead singer of INXS. In the case if Hutchence's death, it was ultimately ruled a suicide, but I don't believe that. He was found naked too, and as is often the case, someone probably "sanitized" the scene. That's the official term when friends or family members remove sex toys or drug paraphernalia before police/reporters arrive.


ADDED NOTE: Associated Press writer Michael Casey just released an article suggesting that Carradine may have died from autoerotic asphyxiation. For the record, his announcement comes 10 hours after mine.

Dazed and Confused

Just finished watching Dazed and Confused for the first time. I'm not sure what took me so long. It's likely the only movie from the famous "favorites" section at Lebanon Videostop that I hadn't seen.
I laughed. It was definitely entertaining and there were some great lines, like:
"That's what I love about these high school girls, man. I get older, they stay the same age."
I'd heard people say that before but never knew what they were quoting. It's a disgusting thing to say but very funny. Parker Posey was great as the bitchy vengeful senior, as was the kid who played the pothead- Ron Slater. I usually hate pot jokes, references, or characters but he was a spot on pothead.
But my reason for writing about the movie is that I noticed something extremely odd about it. Nothing really happened. There was no rising action, conflict, resolution- nothing. When the movie ended I couldn't believe it. I honestly am blown away that the movie has such a high rating on IMDB (Internet Movie Database). Which is not to say I didn't like it. I definitely give it a thumbs up as I was drawn in the whole time to the characters and conversations and was happy to let my mind drift back to my days in high school- but still, nobody changed. Mitch Kramer, the freshman who tags along to the senior party at Moon Tower, I suppose he goes through some type of metamorphosis, though it's hard to say because we don't really know him at all till he's cruising around with Randy Pink and buying booze for the one black guy in the film (who incidentally can't dance or act). Then this got me thinking, maybe that was the point. Perhaps writer/director Richard Linklater is just trying to give us a glimpse of the average dazed and confused and pointless night of some high school students during the mid-70s. And though we meet them and hear them and watch them, it's all from afar, nothing too specific, just something to watch, in an act of voyeurism, the unfolding of a regular summer night for seniors. Maybe the whole decision whether to play football or not (which is never even decided!) is supposed to be the conflict.
OR maybe, he was so high he forgot to include a plot.

No no-no

Beckett had a no-no going through 6 2/3 and Curtis "Party Pooper" Granderson had to hit a single off him. What a bitch that Granderson is.

Trivia at Jimmy's

We finally won trivia at Jimmy the Greeks. Took us long enough. After joining forces with Jesse's team 4 or 5 or 6 or 7 weeks ago- who can say for sure- I thought we'd be rolling into first place every Monday. Not the case. We had a rough stretch, often not even finishing in the top 3. Well this week was different.

It began in unique fashion. Coming straight from practice, we arrived around 6:50, 10 minutes before trivia begins. Tim was the only one there, and he'd been there for 20 minutes without being served. The place was packed and heavy with customers, particularly little kids, all of whom seemed to be under and on tables. Not your typical quiet night at Jimmy's. Tim said that Mrs. Maine was standing behind me and I turned to see a heavily made up 35 yr old trying to look 20. I guess she was alright but I wouldn't have assumed she won any type of pageant. I thought it would be witty to call our team (as we change the name most every time we don't win) Mr. Maine that night, both suggestive and immature. We went with it.
We had a couple of problems fitting two teams at our table, but after moving a section from another table, we were all set. Jesse, his brother Joe, and David arrived a little after 7.
The early rounds were typical, missed a few here and there, someone always says the answer at some point but you go with something else, same old, same old. The major difference between this Monday night and most was Breanne taking charge. She normally will whisper an answer or two in my ear or sheepishly render an answer, but not this Monday. She announced several answers with authority, disagreed with the answers of others and even laid out anecdotes to back up her answers. It was all very impressive. There were a few occasions, when we didn't end up going with her answer, that she was right just the same.
It was her night.
Going into the final question, which allows you to bet all your points if you feel so bold, we were in fourth or fifth place, 30 points or so behind the leaders. The question was something along the lines of: What do bartenders say is the most common complaint they hear from patrons at the bar? Wasn't worded like that exactly, but that's the gist. And most importantly, this "poll" was taken in 2008, not 2009. We threw out all sorts of ideas: marriage, jobs, money, politics, sports, cost of beer, etc. After much debate, we went with "jobs," as regardless of the year, state of the economy, anything; people always complain about their jobs. David was adamantly behind politics being the answer, and I believe it was Joe who wanted marriage. Breanne was on fire that night so we went with her answer. Jesse had scrawled the points race down on a napkin and calculated how much we should wager. We weren't terribly confident with our answer so we bet 10 points- not enough to bury us if we were wrong.
Caleb, the trivia MC, suspensefully read off several wrong answers and climactically announced the final two: it was either Politics or Jobs. We held our breaths and bugged out our eyes and Caleb announced: "All of you who said Politics, you were...... WRONG. The final answer was Jobs." We joined in with a reserved cheer, knowing we weren't the only teams to answer correctly. There were several groans and "ah fuck it" gesticulations around the bar, but everyone waited for the final scores.
First, he announced third place, which lifted our spirits when we heard a total score that we lower than our calculated total, and then the name of the 3rd place team. Then, he announced second place and we cheered to not hear him utter our own name. We had won.
It's the first time I'd ever won trivia in a bar. I'd come in 2nd countless times at numerous bars but had never finished first. It felt good. We had our choice of first place prizes:

$40 gift card to split between the 6 of us (not even 7 bucks a person)
or
4 tickets to the Portland Sea Dogs.

Had there been four of us, I would have argued all night to keep the baseball tickets. But, everyone seemed to want the gift card and I didn't really care. For me, the biggest prize was finally finishing first at Jimmy the Greeks.

Puny like a Rose

Before I start crying about bad luck and fantasy baseball stuff that doesn't matter in the slightest bit yet exudes pathos, take a look at how awesome, on paper, my fantasy baseball team is. Keep in mind this is an AL only league with 12 teams. I didn't include everyone, just the "big" stars. After the pictures, the griping.

Do to the image size, you may have to click on them to find out who they are. Actually, that won't tell you either unless you're a baseball fan. It's, from left to right: Miguel Cabrera, Ian Kinsler, Alex Rodriguez, David Ortiz, Josh Hamilton, Grady Sizemore, J.D. Drew, Francisco Liriano, Eric Bedard, Joakim Soria, Felix Hernandez, and Kevin Slowey. I could have included Orlando Cabrera but I'm mad at him.

So, the losing streak has reached a month now. For the fourth consecutive week, Mighty Like a Rose, my team of superstars in my fantasy baseball league, The Barnstorming Union, has lost. Few sane managers would argue against my team being the strongest, but at the moment I'm slumping listlessly in a tie for 2nd place in my four team division. That puts me at 5th overall.
This week, I'm playing my brother, Manchester Torants (Torants is short for Expectorants) but I'm not confident. On Sunday, Grady Sizemore, one of my star outfielders, went on the DL (disabled list) with elbow inflammation which could require arthroscopic surgery, which would put him out for at least 2 months. And Josh Hamilton, fantasy darling and rehabilitation poster boy, went on the DL last night with a strained abdomen, and the team is presently performing an MRI to determine whether he'll need surgery to correct it. And guess how long he'd be out if surgery is indeed required? Yep, two months. Two MONTHS! That's a third of the baseball season, of which 1/3 is already gone!
Yes, I have A-Rod, Miguel Cabrera, and Ian Kinsler. And my offense is still better than that of most teams, but my pitching has struggled and my offense, due to injuries and slumping, has not been there to pick up the slack. Felix Hernandez and Francisco Liriano have combined for 1 win in the last month! Joakim Soria hasn't pitched in the majors since Cinco de Mayo and he's my only closer! Chris Ray has done nothing to get himself promoted to a closer position. At least Kevin Slowey has been great. That Slowey and Kinsler trade is looking like it may win Bo Jackson 5 (Colin) the Cavalier Lavaliere, a medal that is awarded to the team that, in the eyes of the commissioner, made the worst trade of the season. It's a shoe in if Matt Holliday (the major component of my trade offer) gets shipped to the NL at the trade deadline.
But it's a long season and injuries heal and paint fades and chainsaws rattle with flesh and cattle, so it's too early to panic. For now.

Patents

Just found this article about the earliest sound recording

Edourd blah blah de Martinville was recording shit twenty years before The Wizard of Menlo Park and nobody has heard of the guy. He gave his invention a much cooler name to: the Phonoautograph. But it just goes to show you though that it's all about being the first to get the patent.

In the famous case of Elisha Gray and Alexander Graham Bell, Bell beat her to the patent office by a few hours, literally, and is now famously known as the inventor of the telephone. It's universally accepted now that he stole the idea from Gray, but history will probably always remember Bell as the father of the phone.

Same story with Gutenberg and his moveable print (that's Johannes not Steve). He probably didn't invent the printing press, rather stole it from his apprentice who had likely stolen it from his previous mentor. History uses a lot of white out though, and if you're on a quiz show or playing trivial pursuit, you're better off going with the likes of Bell and Gutenberg, respectively.

Another example is roller shoes- how many people came up with that idea before it surfaced 10 years ago or so? I'm talking about the mini wheels on kid's shoes, not roller blades. At least I invented "The Helping Hand," and no one can deny that.