updating life things. not much to really update.

went to minneapolis tuesday-wednesday, as there was some sort of intern recruiting fair on tuesday night before the twins games. coworker greg and i each got tickets, plus a hot dog/pop voucher (woof!). we then finagled (sp?) two more for former coworkers in the area (although one's car broke down - he didn't make it.)

greg and i created four folders: already graduated (G), graduating in december (DG), graduating this may (MG), not yet graduated (U, for undergrad), and hot girls (HG). sadly, we never used the hot girls file (though we could have...), although greg later changed it to the 'crap' file. however, he didn't write 'crap' on the tab, instead choosing to cross out the HG text.

also saw a fine performance by johan santana, joined by 8,123 of our closest friends. the royals have several players with invented names on their roster; "paul phillips" and "matt diaz" are the two that most prominently come to mind. what an embarrassment - on every level - the royals are. (worse than tampa, by a lot. at least tampa doesn't always blow their draft picks. [though it appears like the royals hit with billy butler in 2004 and alex gordon - signed today - was the best hitter in the 2005 draft.])

also got to spend quality time with coworker chris. he came to the game at about 715, we went out afterwards. one of the good people, truly.

negative 1 of the trip: a speeding ticket. in charles city, iowa. 81 mph in a 65 zone on an empty stretch of road. i guess 81 is excessive, but it's a ticket that i'll chalk up to the 'yellow car' factor. there's no information on the ticket on how to avoid getting it on the record. and floyd county added a five-dollar processing fee.

negative 2 of the trip: while zipping up a slightly-overfilled duffel bag on tuesday morning, i apparently strained a muscle on my left arm. on the front, the upper pec. on the back, well, the shoulder blade. hurts to raise my arm. moving my computer from lap to desk causes pain. nothing four advil can't solve.

anecdote regarding the trip: wednesday morning, i wanted to get a walk in before we departed. we weren't going to work on wednesday, so we just wanted to leave by 1130 or so to get back in time for softball (which was later rained out.) it was bitter cold. awful cold. raining. and the downtown minneapolis ramada has got to be the only hotel left in the world without a treadmill in a closet that serves as a 'workout room.' i know. i wandered every inch of the hotel. and then i found a wing on the second floor (very european-ly, called the 'first floor.' the first floor was the ground floor) which directed me to the 'cabana' rooms. open air, but covered entries. overlooking the pool. i wandered around the elevated cabana level. then went to the ground floor cabana level. i was covered, mostly shielded by the rain. i took a lap around the ground floor, partially inside, partially outside. when i went outside...i couldn't access the inside. wrong key. so i was locked out. (although only 30 yards from the main hotel entrance.)

i wanted to get a walk in. i didn't want to get rained on. so i continued to walk outside. back and forth. from locked door to locked door. (an idea of how small this area was...each 'lap' took about 45 seconds. i walked back and forth lots.) i sang what i knew of gbv's do the collapse. then started on isolation drills. and i was almost to 45 minutes. i had planned for 30, but got to 37, and decided to keep going. but at moment 42, somebody stepped out of one of the rooms. this embarrassed me. i kept my eyes low, and walked back inside. wow.

this was poor description, but you get the idea that i was completely and utterly ridiculous.

i also purchased two cd's with my discover-related borders gift card while in minneapolis. the wolf parade record got fantastic reviews and i've enjoyed it the six or seven times i've been through it. i've not bough many records by new bands on a review-only basis recently. last one was architecture in helsinki. that one didn't work out. this one will.

i also bought the new blackalicious record, which is sample-free and quite groovy. download "rhythm sticks" now, because it's fantastic.

pitchfork gave wolf parade a 9.2. they haven't reviewed blackalicious yet, which is odd considering that blazing arrow was so well-regarded.

also, they reviewed neutral milk hotel's in the aeroplane over the sea, the greatest record ever, which was recently reissued. the review is here. my favorite part is the last paragraph, which emphasizes what i think makes the album so incredible: jeff mangum doesn't really make much sense throughout the album, but he really, really feels something. and that's notable.

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seriously, nothing else has happened lately. phase three of operation cleanup happens this weekend. i can now walk from one side of my living room to the other without tripping on anything. next step is repolishing. a few weeks ago, a job opening came up for a sales-high school sports radio position. it seems intriguing, and i've even found my old college tapes, but i've not acted on it at all. i think i'd be good, and i think a change of scenery would be fantastic. but i've been pretty lethargic. now that it's october, i shouldn't be.

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in other music news, the guided by voices the electrifying conclusion dvd is now officially available for purchase. get it here, and get a gbv shot glass. woof.

darn cats. if they had won that game, it would have been pure theft. but, still, they should have won that.

michael robinson is the farthest thing from an actual big ten quarterback. at times, it looked like northwestern was rushing three, dropping the other eight back, and waiting for robinson to overthrow his intended receiver. most of the time, it worked. but, on the decisive play, they sent six and mcpherson blew it. sigh.

of course, the touchdown pass wouldn't have happened had northwestern been able to stop a freakin' fourth-and-15. (highlight of the awful television broadcast [they're always awful when pam ward is involved, not because she's a woman, but because she's a woman who can't identify players and makes unfunny and ill-timed jokes]: when the awful david norrie [who?] said, with penn state down two with 1:39 left and facing fourth-and-15 with one timeout, "this is a tough decision." of course it wasn't. stupid.)

credit penn state for stopping tyrell sutton. and credit - honestly - basanez for another intelligient, composed, and well-played game. but penn state's defense is quite good, and they fought through the early awful turnovers to stay in the game. and the cats defense is not good. oh well.

at least the hawkeyes lost. i'm not sure they're any good, either.

you know, earlier this week our local iowa beat writer emailed me a silly note decreeing that "the heat will be on either walker or paterno come monday morning." i don't believe it, and i don't want to see it happen. but maybe they're are stupid people with influence who believe that northwestern football can be better than five wins a year with a bowl game every four or five years. personally, i don't think the program can exceed what walker's done, simply because the tradition isn't there and because the state of illinois doesn't offer enough talent and because a day at ryan field will never overwhelm a kid like a day at the horseshoe will and because there are academic standards that the program won't and shouldn't bend (they're pretty much student athletes, and all of them graduate, and that's something to be proud of).

i think it's notable that the program will not be in a position where they're getting blown out three or four times a year. once or twice is, sadly, acceptable. it'll happen. more is not.

(it should be noted that the final four results of the barnett era in the big ten are: ohio state 36, northwestern 10; michigan state 29, northwestern 5; purdue 56, northwestern 21; and penn state 41, northwestern 10. wow - amazing he was still sought after, and amazing he still has a job.)

still, though, losses like this are highly frustrating.

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i gave my first real good listen to the new death cab for cutie album today. i think it's pretty close to a perfect major label debut for them. it's not as good as transatlanticism, mostly because there aren't any great rawk songs, but it's got a lot of pretty stuff.

only one misstep, and that's the extended two-minute outro on "different names for the same place." song should've been two minutes long, and it would have been fairly pretty. instead, it's just wankish.

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never finished cleaning the aparment. now returning to that task.

hey - dave wannstedt won!

three kinds of co-rec softball players:

1) the ultra-competitive dork, the type that will argue with umps

2) the person who royally sucks, and is there to look hopeless at the plate and to hide from the ball defensively. this person will probably be gone by week 4.

3) some combination of two: somebody who doesn't suck, plays hard and has some competitive edge. but does it with good nature, chattering in left field, and making jokes with the opposition.

I'm generally a 3), and it embarrassed the hell out of me tonight.

Situation: It's game two. We went down 7-0 after the top of the first, got three back in the bottom half. That was it. It's now the bottom of the fourth, and we're leading 18-8. Five runs and we end the game.

I'm 2-for-3 so far in the game, and I'm batting with nobody out after a leadoff walk. I ground sharply to first. Renee, the 45-to-55 year-old first baseman, knocks it down. (She had made a nice play in the first inning, retiring me on a 3-unassisted.) She picks it up, starts toward first. I accelerate. I bear down. She hustles to first. I get to the bag. She gets to the bag. She lunges for the bag. I lunge for the bag. Her head collides with my sternum. Ball - and, more importantly, she - goes flying. She spins in the air. She lands on her backside. Her head slams into the dirt.

...

I cover my face. I locate her glasses and pick them up. I wipe away the sweat, then cover my face again.

Her team (great pinstriped, two-button t-shirts, by the way) gathers round. Somebody brings an ice bag. "How are you?" a teammate asks. "A little bit dizzy." She stays down for five minutes. During this time, somebody points to me, leaning against the fence, and says "He's out, right?" Ump indicates that I'm not; the ball had gone flying.

The delay ends, and she exits the game. She's watching, husband (or brother with whom she has a creepy relationship) now with hand on shouulder in dugout, as I, the girl who walked in front of me, and three others score. We go through the "Good game" line, and I'm too embarrassed to enjoy the Moises-Corey-Sammy leaping high five with the Sprott-rocket; the post-game routine gets left undone.

Instead, I awkwardly go over. A teammate asks how she is. I look guilty and apologetic.

Later, I confirm the spelling of her name. I then decide to bring them a Welcome Back Renee cake for next week. But that was probably the alcohol talking. (Sprott-rocket and I also sang Dashboard Confessional's "Screaming Infidelities" in the between-games drinking hour. "YOUR HAIR. IT'S EVERYWHERE." and "AS FOR NOW, I'M GONNA HEAR THE SADDEST SONG. AND SIT ALONE. AND WONDER HOW. YOU'RE MAKING OUT. AND AS FOR ME. I WISH THAT I WAS ANYWHERE. WITH ANYONE. MAKING OUT." and "WHEN DID YOUR EYES! BEGIN TO LOOK FAKE!?" I love that awful, and yet fantastic, pop song.)

Still, it was pretty awful. Probably her fault (there are two bags, and she went for mine.). But, really, it just sucked. Damper on a fantastically-fun night.

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We were short a girl (required four to play, our fourth girl arrived 15 minutes late; she had given a teammate poor directions. Or maybe he just couldn't follow them.) and therefore forfeited game one. So "we played for fun," then destroyed them.

I was 4-for-4 in the game.

I was 3-for-4 in game two. With a double. I think I scored seven runs, although I'm not sure. I didn't drive anyone in, I don't think.

That makes the line for the season: 9-for-10 (.900), nine runs, two RBI, eight singles, one double. I think. Can't complain about the results at the plate.

I played a poor left field in the opener, misplaying a line single into a bad-hop double. In the nightcap, I cutoff a ball in front of me and fired a wild throw to the plate. Poor defense again.

I also played third base in game one, picking up a chopper, doing an unnecessary spin (I'm a lefty) and throwing wild to first.

Overall, strong offense (out of the leadoff spot) and poor defense. But we're not bad. (The team we destroyed in the opener won in the second game, moving them to 1-5. That means that we're perhaps better than at least three of the 12 teams, at least.)

6 p.m. and 8 p.m next week. I'll be at the Metrodome on Tuesday night, checking out of the hotel and driving back in time for the game on Wednesday. Woof.

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Arrogance from a guy who broadcasts high school football...
I'm working "the board" Thursday night for a high school game. It's 30 bucks for about three hours, which is nice. So he calls to confirm that I'll be there. I will. What station are we on? He tells me. Okay. That one's a bit more difficult. You'll call on the Vector, and, to talk to you, I'll...

"I haven't done that since college. That was ten years ago. Now, I'm strictly 'the talent.' "

Maybe it wasn't arrogant, but it seemed it. I hope I'm not that way, and I don't think I am.

"In fact, I'm probably the most humble person I know."
- Ray Lewis, in HBO's Hard Knocks

the white sox are utterly incapable of blowing this. it's too tough. you don't win games like tonight's game (in which they blew it a few times) and still come back to blow it. just my belief.

why baseball is the greatest game ever: the tension on every pitch. the knowledge that if you miss a pitch, you could miss Crede's game-winning home run. Call me crazy, but...nobody in the AL is that good. And, nobody in the AL can match Buerhle/Buehrle - Garcia - Garland - McCarthy - - - provided they're somewhat on. I don't buy Schilling, or, for that matter, Arroyo/Wakefield. AFter Colon, and after Lackey, you've got Santana, right? The Yankees stink. Cliff Lee and Jake Westbrook and (your Cy Young Winner, it turns out) Kevin Millwood? I'll take the Sox quartet.

So, no, the Sox offense is probably not good enough. But, then again, they're built to win 2-1 games, right?

For some reason, Hawkeroo hates Jenks but loves Rowand. Ditto for DJ. Rowand made two awful plays in the late innings. He started back on a flare to center in the top of the eighth inning... DJ even said as much on his "play-by-play." Then, in analyzing the play, DJ said "No way he could've gotten to that." But, it was clear, he could.

Then, the ninth. Jenks allows the tying run. Sure, a leadoff walk, but Rowand's "I got it, I got it, you got it" play on a line drive at him led to the biggest play of the inning, the double. (Hawks call: "Aaron...Aaron...no, no, no, no...he'll stop at third."

End of the inning, "The leadoff walk does him in again." (It was the awful defense. He worked around the walk.)

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Watched My Name Is Earl tonight. It showed promise, but I think the concept will wear thin.

Highlights: "The secret of life coming straight from Carson Daly's lips to my morphine-riddled ears." (he learns about karma)

"Yeah, well I want a legitimate baby and a wife that doesn't huff paint on Thanksgiving." (to his ex-wife, who smacks him around when she finds out he won the lottery)

In other news, The Office also seems funny. Tuesday's'll be okay, it seems.

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Busy upcoming nights...
Wednesday - Softball
Thursday - Work, I'm pretty sure
Friday - Work, I think

I'm trying to make the weekend productive, listening to tapes to get ready for the offseason. I don't think any real interesting college games are on this weekend, so I'll be free after Cats-Lions and Hawkeyes-Buckeyes in the early game.

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Flipped over to Sportscenter for a moment today. Saw WNBA finals highlights. The phrase "And the Maloof brothers finally get their championship!" was uttered. I bet they're just as excited.

number one sign "you've made it:" the reference check call.

received the third one of my life today, this one on behalf on our friend flax. "what did he do?" "ummmm...i don't really know. he never really spoke to me." "what was his best quality?" "it seemed to me that he bathed at least daily, which is more than i could say for much of our other staff members." "would you hire him again?" "he was free the first time, so, if that was the going rate, yes." "thank you for your help!"

it should be noted that this call came at 9:02 a.m., while i was deciding not to shave because i was late to work (i charge the phone in my bathroom). the number looked somewhat familiar (it wasn't), but no name popped up (and i had just gotten out of the shower), so i ignored the call. then, as i'm brushing my teeth, they call again. this time, they figure i must really not be planning to answer it, because they leave a message this time.

i return the call at noon.

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sometime last friday or thursday, and enterprising student from the university of dayton sent an email that i'm sure she spent hours on, wondering what it's like to be "in the business," as she was considering what internships she might be interested in applying for (!). so today, i emailed her back. "here's my number. there's not much going on this time of year, so anytime you call is fine." i sent it at 2:59. no joke, she calls back at 3:03. (i looked at my phone. saw the 937 area code. thought "couldn't be." "then who?" and indeed, it was.)

my goal was to steer her completely from the business, and i did. odd. she kept me on the phone for 25 minutes. towards the end, as i'm directing her future career (be persistent!), she asks my hobbies. (why?, i don't know.) "i like to cook. i read a lot. and, um, drinking, i guess."

welcome to adult life, kiddo.

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arrested development returned tonight. if you consider yourself to be not-dumb, and you like to laugh, please watch this program. (7 p.m. on mondays, central-folk. 8, others.) fantastic. "i'm not the outdoorsy type." "well, then, maybe you can rub off on her, george michael." woof! (and, i mean, really, dig this! award-winning!

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did you know that, in the michigan counties that border wisconsin, towns operate on central time? i learned that this weekend, and was excited. turns out, there are more towns on the border than 'inland,' so it makes sense to keep the same time as the 'other side of the line.' cool, right?

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i didn't completely clean, but i'm getting there. i cleared everything out of the bedroom on friday night and saturday, then began the process of returning things on sunday. currently, i can't safely walk in my living room, but that's okay. i also cleaned out my closet, eminem-like, even donating old clothing to the salvation army. so i've done one good deed this decade.

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i am a fan of the first-place chicago bears. they play defense, and the division's awful, so let's play in january! i still hate thomas jones, i don't care what you say. moose can play (ignoring the three drops week one.) i think the bengals will kill them.

a coworker/bears fan, on friday, bet a coworker/vikings fan, that the bears would score 30 points. ten bucks and everything. upon hearing this, i said "i'd give him 40-to-1 odds on that." good thing i only bet with pride.

softball: one win (11-7, 7 innings), one loss (21-0, 2 1/2 innings) on wednesday night, and we'll call it a successful night.

in the mandatory alternating guy-girl-guy-girl lineup, i was stuck in the number nine spot in the lineup, and i came through big time. singled to the left of center with, i think, two outs, leading to a run in the second inning. with bases loaded in the fourth, singled to center to score two runs, then later scored on a triple as part of the four-run fourth, or perhaps fifth.

the line: 2-2, R, 2RBI

played flawless left field, making the only catchable play and not letting anything get past me.

in game two, we played a squad of ringers that had previously come up with 15-0 and 20-0 slaughter victories. we didn't have a chance, and i didn't find myself in the lineup.

we played at a pretty amazing local bar, a place that i'd never really seen. called the dugout, it's got three lighted softball fields and hosts softball every night of the week in the summer and fall, and hosts apparently highly-competitive men's flag football leagues in the spring.

it also brings new definition to the phrase "beer league softball." my dad's league for 25 or so years, a league i, of course, called "beer league," was played at a park. drinking was encouraged afterwards. here, beer is encouraged as a warmup activity, as an in-game refresher, as a between-games fillup (two games per night, it turns out), as another in-game refresher, and as a post-game wind-down. i'm not sure if most teams' second games are more ragged than the first, but i wouldn't be surprised. woof.

most interesting rule: any time a guy walks (count starts at 1-1), he immediately goes to second base. the ensuing girl then can walk, or hit. generally, the girl walks. this way, you can't pitch around a slugger. wild. recreational, too.

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the greatest radio show in the world, the bernstein and boers show on the score, has moved to a 2-6 time slot. their signature segment, the critically-lauded "who ya crappin'?" ("you're the same guy that criticized me when i did have the fire, so who ya crappin'?") has moved to 5:00 p.m. what this means: i step out of work at 4:53, hustle home, and get the show from my bedroom.

problem is, my bedroom's, you know, 200 miles from their transmitter. fifth floor, but the signal's not always good.

so, i hustle home, get upstairs by 5:01, and start to readjust the antenna-thing. i notice that my wire storage hangy things - which have been used as my bookshelf, cd rack, and as a storage area for low-quality autographed baseballs and my alarm clock, stereo (better said - "amplifier with non-functional cd players and cassette decks"), and some of my bobbleheads - for the better part of the past 36 months, had a loose part. so i first readjust the middle (of three tiers up) outside hangy-thingee. and then, crash, not unlike the experience of shel silverstein's ridiculous rose.

two tiers collapse. about 100 cd's, dumped. my limited book collection, to the ground! all eight bobbleheads, down! both large speakers, the aiwa three-disc changer, ka-boom!

but the radio keeps playing, and the signal gets better, and it was good.

three casualties, none major (item, damage, current state)
- Joe Mauer bobblehead, 2003 edition: head spun around, exorcist-style. head has been convincingly returned to its original state.
- Bix Beiderbecke bobblehead, 2004: lost head. thankfully, head can convincingly balance on base, although it is less "bobble-y."

and, most tragically,
- the 2005 kane county cougars dontrelle willis "bobble-leg:" the left leg (that is, the 'push-off'), cracked at the knee. can't fix it. perhaps i'll hang it somewhere.

however, like the cd player during The Great Accident of 2001, the recently-placed-on-the-floor-for-charging-purposes ipod escaped unscathed.

from the "given lemons make lemonade" department, seeing as the plan this weekend was to completely clean the place anyway, i've chosen to completely reshuffle the bedroom furniture, maybe moving the desk to the living room and the "storage table" to the bedroom and perhaps even putting away the 2000 model desktop.

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per coworker duvy's request, watched fx's starved tonight. odd, odd show. they say the word "bullshit," which stunned me. bulimic cop. overeating married guy with several cancelled gastric bypass surgeries. bisexual singer-songwriter chick recovering from both anorexia and chronic overeating, maybe? one other guy, who has a crush on the bisexual chick, who was on a sun and air diet (avoiding earth matter). i may be screwing up the characters; tonight was the first time watching.

their "support group": the belt-tighteners. dave: "i'm dave. and i'm bulimic." all: "that's not okay!" woof!

the good news: it was entertaining and fringe very funny. the bad news: episode seven was also the season finale, so i'll have to wait for the next one. not a waste of my time, however.

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watched bush's address tonight, for about eight minutes. amazing that we elected that man this time. really amazing. he's pretty freakin' dumb. or, at least, he can't speak properly.

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great photos here. seriously. go. now. top three photos, especially. that's one sexy dude. yum. [or here, here, and here. woof-a-rino.]

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update, 12:24 a.m.: just made some template adjustments, adding links and a renamed "heavy rotation" list. i then went overboard. i'll probably dump some at some point.

it seems to look far better on firefox than on explorer. not sure about other browsers. apologies.

i've been oddly busy of late. it's odd because the season is over, so i'm theoretically off nights. busy because that's how its been.

season ended last thursday, september 8.
nights since then:
thursday: celebratory beer with our hitting coach and treem
friday: driving home
saturday: out with gurs and emdub, post cats
sunday: home by nine, but tired tired tired
monday: out with the intern, who paid on his last night in town. woof.
tuesday: currently writing

so, among the highlights:

the cats played well enough to win, which is good enough. tyrell sutton is fantastic. (although he fumbled and tripped on back-to-back second [first?] quarter carries.) did you realize that this team received a vote in the coaches poll this week? it's not much (it's nothing, in fact), but it's nice that somebody noticed this fine 2-0 cats team.

i am absolutely furious ("pierre bernard's recliner of rage" furious) that this weekend's game isn't on tv anywhere. i would think that a matchup of power conferences, in which one of the teams is ranked, could find a spot somewhere. but, alas, it can't, and i'll be relying on my 720 radio connection. hope for the best, because it's not always strong. and, because i'm 'that guy,' i'll probably head to the car to listen if my apartment radio can't pick it up. nerd!

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as i mentioned, i was absolutely beat by the time i got home on sunday night. took about 25 minutes to load my mom's 700 pounds worth of groceries (thanks mom!) - mostly produce which needs to be eaten by the weekend, and also some well-frozen meat - then sat down to watch football. then the boy called, and i listened for 15 minutes, and then i said 'dude, i'm totally tired. i gotta go.' and then i probably rambled about how i was tired for 20 more minutes.

i was absolutely beat because good times were had on saturday night. low-key, mostly. large, large mexican dinner that left me ill. jesus and mary chain and high lifes and espresso at mike's. the greatest juke box in the world at simon's, i think. (seriously! . . . new porno's "use it," (2005) followed by gbv's "exit flagger," (2003 compilation) followed by the decemberists' "the engine driver" (2005) followed by the "we're having a party. please come!" song by jawbreaker, followed by another 2005 release. i couldn't even find room for spoon. or arcade fire. incredible.)

i also realized what an iowan i had become when i was shocked (shocked!) to discover that a high life and a 7-and-7 and a soco and coke came to $13.50. because, as i type this, i realize that that's not even a bad price. sigh.

and then i ate a lot of pizza while watching the bears be terrible (and sensing that nemo's fantasy tards were destroying my fantasy destroyers) and then, about 430, my mom made more food. so i had eaten about 25 pounds of food on the drive home, stopped for coffee at the halfway point (paid my $1.59 completely in change), and was still ready to sleep.

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i was validated on thursday night when, while drinking with our hitting coach, it was apparent that he put some stock in my opinions. like, he thinks i sort of know what i'm talking about. which is reassuring, and maybe the first time i've truly thought that someone else thought that to be the case.

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company softball starts tomorrow. better said, "myself and a few coworkers and some former coworkers who are in the area as well as their wives/girlfriends so that we have the requisite four girls to legally play co-ed recreational" softball starts tomorrow. we'll start with a doubleheader, because the club was in action during the scheduled opener last week. (i'm not sure how long it runs, but it will be cold by the time we're done.)

we got together and played catch and took some bp today. it was oddly incredibly fun. and it looks like i've nailed down the leadoff spot, which could spell doom for our club. because i'm not much of a hitter. (never had much power, probably because i was never - after the age of four - strong, and also because i'm not good at swinging hard. and when i try to swing hard and elevate the ball, i popped to third.) it also looks like they'll put me at third base. although i think i was fantastic in the outfield, and would love to find myself in center. i ran pretty legitimately well, and made a few shoestring type catches.

i think i'll have full reports on a weekly basis. calculate batting average and everything. not to the dave nemo level, but close. or maybe not.

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it's interesting to me that michael browne is already fair game for comedy. letterman's top ten was "questions on the fema director application," and conan had a fantastic "get the hell out of here browne" song performed by the bald band member. i'm finally going to get around to reading the newsweek account of the tragedy tonight.

in fact, now.

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p.s. - i'd like to ramble less in these posts, a la gurs, but i've determined that it's not a possibility. i can't boil down my life to hilariously pithy two-paragraph vignettes. even though i pretty much do nothing.

i've watched two partial nights of tennis. i saw the final three sets of blake-agassi (fantastic), as well as portions of sharapova-petrova last night.

this much is clear: maria sharapova is the most attractive, alluring teenager in the world. it's a very odd affect, but i'm actually transfixed. you don't watch the little yellow ball when she's playing, you just keep watching those legs. so graceful. alluring is the 100 percent correct word.

when federer is playing (and i don't watch tennis much, because two majors occur during work season, one occurs at midnight, and then i see this one for parts, anyway), your eye is drawn to him. not because of his legs, but because of his grace. he plays every shot well, just hanging back and picking his spots.

sharapova's like that, but she's also phenomenally hot. even before match point yesterday, she was frazzled, and tired, and just generally downtrodden. and they cut extreme close up, and i just stared. i think she's 17.

[i'd like to thank treem for inspiring me to believe that this wouldn't sound dirty. thanks treem.]

- - - - - -

11-2 loss today. one loss in two days, and we're done. hope is a loss tomorrow, which would allow me to get some work on friday night. 30 bucks is 30 bucks, i guess. then, hopefully, half of the irish on tv in glenview in the early part of saturday, the cats in evanston (3 point favorites. the basic belief is that the home team gets 3 for being at home. this means that it'd be a pick 'em if it were played at the cotton bowl.) in the afternoon, general debauchery that evening, and nfl in glenview for at least the early part of the afternoon. woof.

- - - - - -

i haven't read or really followed anything with regard to the hurricane katrina situation and, because of that, haven't posted about it. i can't encourage you to donate because i haven't myself. that's hypocritical. i don't have enough of an opinion on things, nor do i truly understand the scope of it, to post anything.

but newsweek's lead photo in this week's package is fascinating and scary. just roofs. and water.

how about this week's conventional wisdom?!
bush - late, lackadaisical and largely oblivious to the enormity of the mess. it's a competence thing.

homeland security - four years after 9/11, what happens in an emergency? no food, no medical aid, no law? do you feel safe?

hastert - house speaker says 'it doesn't make sense' to spend money to rebuild the big easy. thanks for your support.

congress - after cutting funds pre-katrina to fix new orleans levees, it's set to pass another huge tax cut for the superrich. typical.

pretty vicious, i think.

alarm's at 930. it's 330. i've got scrabble book to read. woof.

drive home highlight monday...

odd bus trip back. we were in, but didn't earn it. (six losses in seven games.) so you're quiet for a while, then everybody is asleep. (well, apparently everybody's not asleep. i was reading, and monday's pitcher was apparently drinking.)

so bus driver stops at a rest stop. this wakes everybody up, with about 2 hours left in the trip. (perhaps now the pitcher starts drinking.)

i get back to my book. (word freak, almost done.) i listen to the ipod. i try to watch super troopers on the tv screens, but the screen is small and the sound isn't loud enough and i decide to go back to the book. or maybe get some sleep.

we're ten minutes from home, and there's some friendly yelling from mid-bus to front of bus. then mid-of-bus (the pitcher) comes up, and starts yelling obscenities. friendly obscenities, i think. (along the lines of, [smiling] "shut the fuck up fuckin' fuck fuck" [giggling]...that kind of nonsensical stuff.)

so, then, at this point, manager turns around:
"hey! yo! you think my wife wants to hear you talk like that!" "sorry." "no i'm serious! you want me to call your parents and talk to them like that!?" "[silence.]" "shut the fuck up. [back to his phone, to his wife...] ahhh, fuck..."

so, there's "back of third grade" giggling among some of us, because it was a funny exchange. this quickly becomes "back of third greade" failed attempts to stifle laughter, when...

"[in pitcher's phone] hey dad! we're going to the playoffs! we're going to fuck [wrong team name] them up!" [phone response from dad] "yeah. we're going to fuck them up in the second round! fuck!"

and this continues for a few minutes, as i start cough-laughing and the skipper acts oblivious. odd.

- - - - - - - -

is this the state of my life? three times in the past 36 hours, there has been conversation initiated with me. the only point of the conversation, the "main point," without even an ounce of small talk... "here's my fantasy football team. whaddya think?"

i mean, really. i talk fantasy football with nemo, because his tards are about to battle my destroyers. but others? uncool.

and yet, i oblige.

(note: yes, this is also a fantasy football forum. apologies.)

- - - - - - - -

conan's over. and now, the first guest on carson daly (not a regular watcher, but i'll subject myself to it on occassion.) is dennis rodman. dennis rodman!? can't believe he qualifies, especially on a network show.

- - - - - - - -

reflections on the first weekend of college football:

college football is the best.

i hope the cats beat niu on saturday. (and i hope i'm there. woof. ticket hookup.)

i sure hope the irish beat michigan on saturday.

i think that's it.

- - - - - - - -

for the first time in several years (since i was in seventh grade, helping out my dad), i think i'm entering an nfl confidence pool this season. 3 bucks a week. high school people. keeping a ledger, pay at the end. maybe i won't enter every week, but i think it'll be fun. i've suckered the boy into joining, and i think there'll be a turnout of some sort. i think this will bring my nfl gambling for the season to 40, i think for fantasy football, plus as much as 51 for nfl confidence-ing. maybe that's too large of an investment.

- - - - - - - -

based on commercials, i think i'm going to try to watch the new show called "....... earl" on nbc. also, i've read that chris rock's show on upn is supposed to be funny. then i'll watch arrested development on sundays. and that's about it.

backing into the postseason...

we lost for the fifth time in the last sixth games today, and qualified for the postseason thanks to another top team's loss and some already-earned tiebreakers.

we've got one pitcher who is throwing well right now. one of five. so he threw well on thursday, picked up a win (to get a four-game series split), and the party was on. players wound up at the bar across the street, slammed three or four or six in a half-hour's time. i snagged a few beers from the coaching staff when they returned from their post-game time-killing. then, the magic number was two.

since then, we've lost three in a row. we did, however, back our way into the postseason today.

the negativity is fascinating. as we got to the ballpark this afternoon: "if any of you are pussies, stay on the bus. the bus driver'll take you to daycare. if you're ready to go to war, come on out." or something like. another coach going from player to player during the trip... "are you trying to make the big leagues?" ... "no you're not." and "do. you want. to be. a big. leaguer?" ... "i don't believe you."

odd, but we've backed in. odder still, the odds say we'll probably win with the ace on the mound in the first of a best-of-three. i'd like us to advance no further than the full three in series one. then a weekend.

whyzat? cats analysis.

color me surprised. pleasantly surprised. they played pretty darn well...their first blowout win since 2001.

what can be determined from this game:
- i have more confidence in baz than i did previously. it's sad that confidence with him is such an issue, but the fact is that he's erratic. but i think he was smart with the ball.

- i think philmore's fantastic. he wasn't saturday, but he is. what that means, then, is that the receiving corps is good. this because herbert made a few nice plays, and thompson did the same. that bodes well, because you sense that philmore will be freed up for big plays down the line.

- kicking game still sucks.

- tyrell sutton is, of course, the biggest revelation. sure, it was ohio. but 100 yards in a debut means a whole lot. not fumbling in a debut means, probably, more. 18 touches, all stayed with him. consider that he was running behind an all-inexperienced line, and give him high, high marks. plus, nemo says, "he's got some shakes." both touchdown runs were nice. didn't get a read on conteh (used late) or hamlett (not paying enough attention when he was in) or roberson (didn't see him play. thanks chelsea at guy hollerin's.)

- defensively, tougher to get a read on things. that cole play on the final play of the half was awful, then okay.

- tarver seemed to be 'around,' and made a nice play on the interception. heinz's shoes are large, methinks.

- i still believe the linebackers will be fantastic. kadela got his first career sack.

- that 99 cat, wootton, was around the action a lot. f' howard.

- good win.

- i'm confident enough to change my pick on northern illinois. i just hope i'm able to go.

.....

also, plans were hatched to officially 'make a weekend' out of the michigan night game. booze will be consumed on friday. football will be watched on saturday. booze will be consumed on saturday.

i think my cats count will be two for the season, although i'll consider a trip to illinois if the boy will have me.

.....

nemo's fantastic. so is the missus [!]. as are tater rounds. turkey in eggs? surprisingly delectable!

.....

i was at the ballpark, and the other radio guy offered to get my food. "what should i get?" "we don't have much that's good." "what do you recommend?" "probably the chicken tenders and fries." "let's go for it." ... tenders come up. pretty good. no sauce! i'm wondering why he didn't offer sauce. maybe they don't have it. i head down to go to the restroom before on-air time. i see a guy bringing up wings n' ranch. he could've offered ranch, or bbq, or ketchup. poor service. i've gotten it myself for the past two days, and will do so on monday.

labor day is awesome. i'll be at the yard, then on a bus. woof.

quick. need to make cats picks.

last year, i picked 7-5. missing on wisconsin, purdue, and hawaii. that was pretty good, i guess.

this year...
game-by-game (wins in bold):
9/3 v. Ohio
9/10 v. Northern Illinois (hyped as "The best college football team in Illinois!", in comcast ads)
9/17 @ Arizona State - Too much downfield passing
9/24 v. Penn State - Too much 'D'
10/8 v. Wisconsin - Coming off a bye week, and they're not that good
10/15, @ Purdue - Kirsch sucks
10/22, @ Michigan State - Stanton sucks
10/29, v. Michigan - God, they're so good.
11/5, v. Iowa - A reckless and stupid pick. They don't have a D-Line, but their two LBs can run to the ball all day. I think their offense is a question, and yet they're consensus top ten. Tate and a cast of nobodies, although Ferentz is fringe-genius. Call it payback for '00.
11/12, @ Ohio State
11/19, @ Illinois - Zook actually does suck.

Ugh. I've predicted a 4-7, 3-5 finish, which is not what i'd hope for.

And yet, not looking at the depth charts...

This season seems to be turmoil-full already. Howard leaving. The Wheeler settlement. The mysterious T-Jordan. Don't like it.

Also, I don't like the thought of relying on a pair of tailbacks (Hunter/Roberson) with no real game experience. Last frosh RB? Anderson, in 1999. (3-8, right?)

The O-line is so thin, after losing Ike and Ulrich and Rees and the other guy.

The only chance for the offense to be good is for Brett to be out-of-his-mind, and for Philmore to become one of the conference's top five. He's electrifying, I think.

Defensively, Clark was so silent and so underappreciated. He'll be missed. I think Cofield's a star in the making. I think he'll emerge.

The linebacking group has three stars. Roach is my favorite, McGarigle is the best. NFL-worthy? Maybe.

DBs suck. Ward's gone, but they still suck. I love Deante Battle's name, however. Maybe McPherson plays well. Heinz is gone, and Henderson (HHHH) sucks.

I know nothing about the Kicking/Return games. Howells? Pederson?

I was good enough to finish 8-0 in conference in the video game.

- - - - - -

However, my bar-watching experience - my first live opener since 2001 - will be augmented by nemo. NIU-Michigan? Who cares! I'm watching the Cats on ESPNU! Woof.

so i'm sitting here about to buy a few cds online. i should be sleeping. but i'm buying cds. kanye. death cab. me=loser. behind the times. things like that.

they were overpriced ($14.99 and $13.99) when i called borders. best buy's never better. so the next step is amazon. underpriced ($9.99 and $10.99) at amazon, which means that i'll need to search for super saver shipping options. this because i'm a sucker.

but i'm struggling to find something else.

options have included:
sleater-kinney: the woods - at $13.99, more than i'd like to pay
matt prince and bonnie 'prince' billy - seems to be import-only
...
the first two malkmus solo albums - in that $13.99 range, and i'm fine having missed them
the hold steady album - i don't actually want it
...

most frustratingly...

fiery furnaces, both gallowsbird bark [or whatever] and 'ep' - oddly, don't seem to be available straight from the store

...

i've also checked on yo la tengo, and almost rebought 'i can hear the heart...' which i should have, but wouldn't feel bad downloading illegally [purchased many moons ago]

...

maybe the iron and wine ep. i've got nothing else of sam's, although i think i should.

quite honestly, i'm just looking for an overhyped major label release that will get me the "deeply discounted full length" price. i should probably just buy the two i want. or perhaps, just buy neither.

sigh.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

could the club be choking? it's looking that way, although it'll be tough. magic number of three with five to play. but a 15-9 loss tonight. could get ugly, although the ace goes thursday. then a trip to michigan, then another fantastic nemo-ful night, and a fantastic cats- and nemo-full early afternoon.

good moment tonight.
hitting coach on the bus. former bonus baby (early rounds, 2001) who now sucks because he has no velocity in his customary seat behind him. he was a projection pick. a more-than-half-a-million projection pick. he's tall, but throws low-80's, which is unacceptable. he got killed tonight.

"you've been throwing pretty well lately, too."
"i won't have a bad one again this year."
"you better not."
"i might have a bad one next year, but not again this season."
"actually, you might not." [smiles to me]
"you're right. i might not."

that's a rough approximation. the smile? because, chances are, this high draft pick - a clear waste of money - is a good chance to be released at the end of the season. a club can't hang onto a 9 ERA for so long.

being that he's been coddled and talked up his whole life, he has no concept that this could be a possibility. i'd sort of like to see it happen, because he's a generally despicable person.

absolutely oblivious, and it's sort of funny.

- - - - - - - -

because the sports guy recommended it, and because i've got a long bus trip coming, and because i've thrown out espn the magazine (which is awful), and because there's not a new newsweek coming ("double issue" came last week - seems about the same length), and because sports illustrated (probably the nfl preview) is coming after i leave for the bus tomorrow, i've checked out word freak a book about competitive tournament-level scrabble. my brother and i got great enjoyment out of watching scrabble tournament championships this past christmas. the book's fantastic.

particularly the character named G.I. (as in, gastrointestinal) Joel. He belches a lot.

fantastic line (better, to me, than "if mr. pants could talk, they would never shut up," from the big year from a long-named nu alum): "i'm cockier than a first round nba draft pick. my opponent has halitosis, but i have confidence."