June 2005 Archives

full-priced baseball

The Two Dolla Wednesday Alternative Four Dolla Tuesday Turned Ten Dolla Tuesday went OK. Our attempted aluminum can discount was not to be obtained, so we paid full price. Full price baseball! Heresy!

The A's won by seven runs, but that paled in comparison to the trouncing they gave the Giants on Sunday. The Giants can only beat the A's while wearing the "Gigantes" jerseys, it appears. Possibly the "Gigantes" retro look makes Giants players believe the game is taking place twenty years in the past, when many of these regulars were actually in their primes.

Dustin has figured out a reason for Oakland manager Ken Macha's success with a young team like the A's. He sees Macha as the ultimate Little League manager - always supportive, never angry, always supportive. One imagines that at Ken Macha's house, there is an entire cabinet full of Kudos bars, and there are always two varieties of Capri Sun to choose from (currently Surfer Cooler and Red Berry).

Later, when Mariners 6'8" first baseman Richie Sexson stood next to 5'9" second baseman Bret Boone, it was also very evocative of Little League. Sexson looks like a character out of folklore - he's a huge, bearded lumberjack-looking guy who hits lots of home runs, strikes out a lot, and towers over other players. Here, he also looked like he was going to take Boone and Ichiro out for ice cream after the game.

Sexson was the comedic highlight of the entire evening. He walked to the plate waving his telephone pole of a bat, and I may or may not have been yelling that this was a game for normal-sized human beings, not giants, when it hit me. His name is Richie Sexson, which could easily have been "Dick" Sexson. Dustin pointed out that, besides being hilarious, the name presents a causal chain: Dick. Sex. And then, Son.

The next two innings were a bit of a blur as we giggled and giggled over possible Sexson family members. What about his father, a religious-minded scholar named Oral Sexson? The other kids would make jokes, but Richie would get very indignant about it. "Oh, real mature, guys. It didn't mean that back then when my grandpa picked the name. 'Oral' is a Bible name!" Then they'd ask about his grandpa, and Richie would have to admit that his grandpa's name was Anal Sexson. "It's a German name!", he'd yell, to no avail, and the other guys wouldn't let up until Coach Macha started hitting grounders and promised they could go get root beer floats later if they'd stop screwing around already.

I'd also like to commend Marco Scutaro on his incredible play during games that I attend. In other games he is fairly ordinary, even kind of sucky, but he rises to the discount baseball spotlight like no other. He has had the walk-off, game-ending hit in three Two Dolla Wednesday excursions over the past year and a half. Tuesday night, perhaps unaware we had paid full price, he hit a home run. It's appropriate, because Scutaro is like the major league baseball player equivalent of Two Dolla Wednesday; he makes the minimum salary, he's better than people realize though still not all that great, and he doesn't mind waiting in long lines to get hot dogs for the veterans.

Chicago Appointa-Bulls
Philadelphia Threateners of Elected Public Officials, A Violation of Penal Code 76-ers
Portland Trailblazers

In Communist Russia, Volga River paddles you! Luckily, in good ol' capitalist America, we canoe on the Russian River. We haven't begun the era of perestroika yet, so this expedition will still be centrally planned for Sunday, July 10th, the anniversary of the beginning of Boris Yeltsin's first term as president of Russia.

The fun starts around noon, or 11 PM Moscow time, and should last until about 5 or 6 PM (or 4 to 5 AM, for Muscovites). We will leave in caravans from the Safeway parking lot, at Church and Market, at 10, so we have plenty of lead time for traffic, life jacket mishaps, and the inevitable 3-4 hour bread lines in Forestville.

DO bring: $27.50 each ($55 per two-person boat, though the boats can hold a third non-paddling person. In Russia, everyone has to paddle "oar" KGB investigate family!), sunscreen, river shoes (don't bang them on your desk!) lunch, the spirit of liberty, water, beer, fond memories of Yalta, a change of clothes, a sun-deflecting hat, and sunglasses.

DON'T bring: Rubles, fur hats, feudal economic structures, anti-cossack prejudices, borscht.

Because the KGB has not yet turned its attention to the Internet, secret Russian River history announcements can still be found here and here

Photo documentation of past covert rafting operations can be found here and here

Dossier on our canoe providers here

Our impending dominance of this River will be a metaphor for America's Cold War triumph over the Russkies, only with more singing and fewer space lasers. Be there, or be reported to the House Un-American Activities Committee.

happy 37th to me


It's my birthday today. I share this birthday with, among others, Giants broadcaster Duane Kuiper and unfunny comic strip cat Garfield. This year, I also share a birthday with Father's Day, which happens every few years. When I have my own kids, I'm fully prepared to hear, "This is for your birthday and Father's Day." Temporary roommate Angela, who has a birthday near Christmas, sums up the issue this way: "I spent five extra dollars on your present, so it's just like two gifts." Of course, my kids will probably be sending me crap like cardboard bookmarks or lanyards or molds of their handprints. "This finger painting is for Father's Day and your birthday, Dad." Boy, don't knock yourselves out there, kids.

When I was a kid, the birthday was centered around food. I could choose the menu at every meal. Each one was served on a red plate that read, "You Are Special Today", which was my parents' way of saying, even though it's your birthday, you're still sort of retarded. Don't get arrogant, birthday boy. We know your true colors.

Father's Day hasn't changed throughout the years. Dad gets up at dawn and does chores around the house. Any available children are then rounded up for a forced march nature hike, along with our dog. This year, the hike has been skipped, bcause Molly is in South America, and seeing the remaining children's physical fitness might make Dad ashamed of having sired children in the first place. Later, Dad will do another six or seven hours of housework while international soccer football blares from the television. Three to four weeks later, Dad will receive his Father's Day gifts - lanyards in the shape of the Arsenal logo.

Happy Fathers Day, Dennis. Thanks for using the rhythm method.

Now that I have nearly completed my college education, I've been thinking of how college life is depicted in the movies. I would like to see a movie about clown college. It would follow the same setup as "Animal House" or "PCU" or even "Old School". There would be a clown fraternity, full of all kinds of misfit clowns that banded together. Maybe you'd have the sad clown that couldn't stop laughing, or the clown who drove a big SUV, so it wasn't impressive at all when ten or twelve people piled into that car. There would also have to be some rival clown fraternities, like one full of rich clowns, or even one filled with members of the Insane Clown Posse.

The problem I would find in this story is that, traditionally, the underdog fraternity clashes with its rival fraternity and the dean through a series of hilarious pranks and wild behavior. However, this movie would take place at clown college. Pranks and wacky behavior would be de rigeur at such an institution. So, I think the way the clown heroes of this story would react would be through Gandhi-style passive resistance.

Picture it. The dean sprays a bottle of seltzer at our hero, Chuckles. Chuckles turns the other cheek. The mean clowns from the rival fraternity throw whipped cream pies at our heroes, and they respond by circulating a petition, and organizing a boycott of the traditional Clown Carnival. There would be a tense scene where the clowns link arms and sit in protest, as clown college security guards approach menacingly on unicycles.

The climax would come when the underdog fraternity is faced with the prospect of being kicked off campus. The school agrees to let them stay, if they can win an elaborate contest against all the other clown fraternities, a seemingly impossible task. We watch as our clowns train on trampolines and tightropes, as they work on gymnastics and also human pyramids. The clown gym is crowded, but a surprising number manage to fit themselves on a single elliptical trainer.

Finally, the big day comes when our clowns step up to the challenge. They've prepared, but it still seems impossible that they'll prevail. Suddenly, just as the competition is about to begin, the underdog clowns' attorney approaches. He's got an injunction, preventing the clown college from removing the fraternity. The dean gets agitated and stomps on the legal paperwork with his comically-oversized shoes, but the clowns are safe! They celebrate, as the soundtrack kicks in with Billy Ocean's "Get Out Of My Dreams (And Into My Car)". The credits roll over footage of the clowns exercising at the gym and quietly reading books about circus theory.

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This page is an archive of entries from June 2005 listed from newest to oldest.

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