Sunday was an absolutely unforgettable day – somewhat fantastic, somewhat terrible, and pretty freakin’ memorable.

It started at 7:28, when I picked up a former intern at the 7-11, progressed down the beautiful state highways of Michigan, into downtown Detroit, back towards Mount Pleasant, Michigan (with a 55-minute detour to Godknowswhere), and back to the Ring Fingernail at 11:30.

The tally:

Length: 16 hours (ten in the car, five in Comerica Park, and one in the vicinity)
Hot Dogs consumed: 2
Bud Lights consumed: 1
Labatt Big Blues (25.9 oz) consumed: 1
Boxes of Voortman’s chocolate wafers consumed: 1, mostly by me
[Side note: Where “Sugar” is listed in the Voortman’s chocolate wafers ingredients list: First]
Super Sized McDonald’s Value Meals consumed: 1, entirely by me
Time since I had previously eaten a Super Sized Value Meals: Probably eight years
Fantastic individuals with whom I watched the game: 5, including the dude in front of us with a legitimate bowl haircut
Innings inexplicably pitched by Todd Jones: 2.2 (where “.2” means “two-thirds”)
Times I booed: None, though there could have been several
Mounted police officers who did not need to bring out the riot gear: at least two
Homeless dudes singing “Cum On Feel the Noize” in an incredible falsetto: 1

So, the good:
The company (Nemo, Carrie, R-Josh, Intern Chris) was fantastic. The day (70-degree game time temp) was beautiful and sunny. The grilled Ballpark Franks and Wonder Bread buns were pretty darn good. I got my first look at a Detroit grocery store (it was surrounded by a cage, so as to prevent cart theft, and I was offered bootleg DVDs on the way in). And I got to watch two members of the 2004 Burlington Bees (Mitch Maier and Angel Sanchez). Also, the McDonald’s was fantastic. And the Bears were better (I caught most of the game on the radio).

And the bad:
Jeremy Bonderman. Fernando Rodney. Brandon Inge. The kids next to me who didn’t accept my offer of rally gum. My slight sunburn. But mostly the hour-long detour, owing, apparently, to sparkling conversation. Or sheer stupidity. (Just outside Gladston (?), Michigan, however, I got my first raccoon. [“Got”=”Ran Over”] So that was cool, in a way.)

So, I dropped off intern Chris at his apartment in Mount Pleasant (basically on the way) at about 9:40, at which point the Bears were scoring for the second straight time following a Ricky Manning interception. My radio reception was spotty at this point, so I called Nemo shortly after TJones plunged into the end zone to find out what had happened. After a quick “Greatest – team – ever,” he gave a brief recap. Then I gave a brief recap. (Missed turnoff, dead raccoon, hour detour.) Then he said, “I’m sorry this was such an awful day.”

And what was interesting was that I hadn’t considered it awful at all. I gave some stupid, overly-sunny response, like, “No. It’s just an adventure. What’s life without a few detours?” And then I said I had to order my McDonald’s. (More on my McDonald’s in a moment.)

So, then I got to thinking about why I hadn’t previously been thinking about the day in “awful” terms. (By the time I returned to the Ring Fingernail, after two more hours driving the beautiful unlit, two-lane highways of Michigan, “awful” was closer to the description, though still not there.)

(For those of you who don’t know, the Tigers were excruciating on Sunday afternoon in their season finale. They blew a 6-0 lead before losing to the league-worst Kansas City Royals, who completed a sweep of the series. The Tigers blew a bases-loaded, one-out situation in extra frames. With the Tigers loss and the Twins win on Sunday afternoon, the Tigers also failed in their bid to win the division. So, from a best-of-five series with home field advantage against the Frank Thomas-led A’s, to a best-of-five as the road team against the several-Hall-of-Famers-led Yankees. A pretty excruciating way to lose, and a pretty frustrating, optimism-sapping road ahead.)

And I thought about the 2003 Cubs, and how absorbed I was in that team. How I spent all day thinking about that night’s playoff game, and how I adjusted my eating habits based on good luck, and how I obsessed over whether or not to wear my Kerry Wood “throwback” jersey due to its influence on that night’s results, and how my life pretty much revolved around the Cubs for two beautiful weeks.

Sadly, though I love this Tiges team, that’s not the case this year. I want them to win, and badly, but I haven’t earned the need for them to win. I needed the Cubbies to win in 2003. This year, I’m just hopeful, and enjoying the ride.

Ahh, the kind-of-boringness of bandwagoneerism. (Especially in light of the fact that I like the Twins a lot, too.)

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About 20 minutes outside of Mount Pleasant on Sunday night, I said to Intern Chris, “Is there a McDonald’s in Mount Pleasant?” He answered in the affirmative (I’d’ve been pretty disappointed if he didn’t), and it was decided: Super Size me.

What I ordered: The BLT Ranch Crispy Chicken Sandwich, with a Super Sized order of fries, and a Super Sized Diet Coke.

What I was charged: $6.04

Was it worth it? Absolutely.

Will I get it again? Never. Tore up the digestive tract.

The fries were, as anticipated, wonderful. Saltier than usual, and didn’t need a bit of ketchup. And I could just taste the succulent beef oil. Yum.

And the sandwich… oh, the sandwich! Oval in shape, with a fluffy, white bun. I debated between “crispy” and “grilled” chicken, but the former was definitely the way to go. A kick of pepper, I think, and clearly deep fried in the same beef oil as the fries. Came to the car piping hot, too, but not mouth-burning hot.

The ranch dressing was certainly not fat-free. It was almost gelatinous, and wonderful. The bacon was smoky, the lettuce was crisp, and the one tomato slice (I twice requested “No Tomatoes,” and “W/O TOMATO” appeared both on my receipt and on the order board) was chilled and had a distinct bacon-y flavor. (As I think about it, the board said “W/O TOMATO,” not “W/O TOMATOES,” which explains why I got only one of the prescribed two slices. Though I wanted none.)

So, I guess the best part of the day was the fact that I got McDonald’s, and it was fantastic. I’d highly recommend the Ranch BLT Crispy Chicken sandwich. They’ve branded it “Premium,” and they’re certainly right

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On Saturday morning, I did my first shopping for long-sleeved shirts (and, perhaps, for casual pants), since at least 2003. That is, since I’ve lot some was.

Thankfully, my 34 minutes in Kohl’s (I made it in at 12:15, and out by 12:49, thereby securing “Early Bird Sale” status) revealed what I’ve always known about my fashion sense: Give me seven buttons down the middle, three more near each cuff, and two more around the collar, then add a plaid pattern comprised of mismatched colors, and I’m happy.

So, a mustard yellow shirt with some cream-and-different-shade-of-yellow accents, and a white shirt with orange and navy stripes. (Orange and navy. Not the Bears. The Tigers. It’s playoff time, baby. If things go right, we might add an Old English Tigers “D” on the chest pocket. Ohh, that’d be great.) Also, a pair of brown corduroys, and a pair of Sonoma jeans, the same color as every other pair of jeans I own. Plus, a hoodie. Green. I need to exchange it, though.

Damage: 95 bucks (or about three per minute), which I think is pretty good.

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Work is pretty good. Busy, but pretty good. I like my coworkers, I think, and it’s a nice atmosphere. We don’t keep score in volleyball but I sense that, if we did, people would be stunned by my winning percentage. (I don’t know what it is, and I’ve never done anything resembling keeping score.) But I’ve been a pretty good setter, I like to think, only jumping when my team absolutely needs a kill. Happy to give others the glory. (But we’re only a week in, of course. By Friday, I’ll be breaking noses.)

So, there’s XM radio in the building, and it’s always on a music station. Often a cheesy 90’s rotation (two Gin Blossoms songs in one day!), but never anything terrible.

When we’re lucky, it’s XMU, the “alternative” or “college” or whatever frequency. (Channel, not frequency, I guess.) It was XMU on my first day, last Monday, and we got TV on the Radio, and Beirut, and Beulah, and several other things from my record collection. All day long, and it was awesome.

It was briefly XMU this morning. I was bouncing up and down early in the day, because Stereolab was really hitting me in the right way. And then, like that, it was gone.

Why? Because, of all “songs,” Tom Waits’ “What’s He Building?” came on. I immediately giggled. And someone slightly-less-immediately changed the station. Like, less than 15 seconds in.

(Please, just find “What’s He Building?” and enjoy it. Creepy spoken word from Tom Waits’ Mule Variations record.

Selected lyrics, in no order: “What’s he building in there? What the hell is he building in there?” … “We have a right to know.” … “I swear, I heard something, moaning. Low.” … “He’s not building a playground for the kiddies, I can tell you that.”… “He’s got enough formaldehyde to choke a horse.” … “He doesn’t have any friends, but he gets a lot of mail. I bet he’s spent some time in jail.” … “He’s got a wife in Indoneeeeeesia.”

Pretty much, it tormented the entire fourth floor of 1835 Hinman Avenue in 1999. Or, at least, one or two or three people. Maybe more. And now, seven years later, it strikes again. Awesome.)

We were flipped back to Adult Alternative or something the rest of the way. “Bang and Blame.” Joseph Arthur. The Old 97s “Nineteen.” So it was pretty good, but not XMU good. (And not as good as my iPod, either, but still pretty good.)

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I’ve tried to increase my internet usage efficiency. I’ve been heading to the coffee shop with a list of things to accomplish. For instance, “Checkbook,” or “Directions to CoPa,” or “Wedding Gift.” Important stuff. And “Fantasy Football,” and “Fantasy Baseball,” and “Check Email.” And a list of websites I want to read, so I don’t forget.

One very efficient thing that I’ve started doing is a simple copy-and-paste. I find an article I want to read (Bill Simmons, or whatever’s on Salon, or the NY Times Magazine cover, or Jason Mulgrew), and I copy what strikes my eye, and I paste it in Word, and I save and read when I get home. Last Tuesday, I fell asleep with my laptop on my lap, an update on my usual “fall asleep drooling on a magazine” pattern.

Also, I’m writing this at home, and will drive to the coffee shop to post it when it’s done. The coffee shop leaves its connection open at night, so I just steal it from the outside. Efficiency, friends, efficiency.

(Also, in this case, I’m going to continue to the grocery store to buy some Ovaltine and some more coffee. I’m almost out of coffee, and I’ve decided that I really want some Ovaltine. What’s the harm?)

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Do you realize that Derek Lowe vs. El Duque Hernandez is a Game One pitching matchup? Derek Lowe and El Duque! Garsh.

Playoff predictions, with no justifications:

NLDS
Dodgers over METS, 3-2
PADRES over Cardinals, 3-0 – Revenge!

ALDS
Tigers over YANKEES, 3-2
TWINS over Athletics, 3-1

NLCS (I don’t know whose the division champ, to be honest)
DODGERS (?) over Padres, 4-2. Can’t fight Marlon Anderson, you know.
TWINS over Tigers, 4-2.

World Series
TWINS over Dodgers, 4-2.

(I made fun of the Dodgers three minutes ago, and now I’m picking them to go to the Series. Hey, it’s baseball.)

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For the record, the MLB Extra Innings is the greatest thing in the history of the world. Last Thursday, I watched Pujols blast a three-run homer in the bottom of the eighth to snap the Cards losing streak, and I watched Houston blow the lead at Pittsburgh and succumb in 14, and I watched the Dodgers dispose of the Rockies thanks to a three-run sixth, and I watched the Phillies blow the late lead – twice – against the non-contending Nationals.

I also got a chance to watch a bit of Vin Scully last Sunday.

“There’s a spider web of shadows on the left side of the infield… but it;s nothing compared to the wide shadows cast by wins by the Padres and the Astros.”

And that’s why he’s the best, and why I’m a marketing nerd.