Again, With the Awards

Well, the Orioles lost last night, leaving the Yankees to move on to the last round, so there will be no further baseball posts for the year.  It was disappointing, as I’m sitting on two pairs of now-useless tickets for the AL Championship Series, but at least I’m getting $360 back, plus all that money not spent on beer.  It’s all good.  The O’s had a terrific year, making a strong playoff run, after having been picked by most everyone to finish last in their division (again).  I look forward to a strong 2013 season.

Leave it to my fellow bloggers to lift me back up out of the doldrums.  Last Thursday, blog friend Val of Valerie Nunez and the Flying Platypi threw me a couple of blog awards.  Somehow she knew, a day beforehand, that I’d need some cheering up.  This doesn't surprise me, because Val is completely insane.  I say that in the nicest way possible.  She’s the kind of person where I’d like to move into the house beside hers, just for the entertainment value.  I mean, who knew how much fun you could have with a mannequin arm?  Thanks, Val!

Anyway, she gave me 2 awards.  I already have the Versatile Blogger Award several times over, so I’ll just add her name to the “thank you” caption (down on the right-hand side of the page) and ignore all the rules.  This should surprise no one, because I almost always ignore award rules.  Unless I don’t.  (I've answered those questions before, anyway.)

The other award is the Liebster Award.  I don’t know the back-story for that one, but there were a number of rules with that one too. 

* Post 11 things about yourself.  Nope.  I've done this several times before, plus after almost 3 and a half years of writing this blog, is there anything you don’t know about me?

* Answer the 11 questions the person giving you the award has set for you.  Well, Val didn't specify any questions, but I’ll answer the ones she was asked, because they look interesting.

* Choose 11 people to whom you forward the award.  Nah.  To me it’s like assigning homework.  Not my place.

* Create 11 questions for those you give the award.  See above.

So I've accepted the questions… let’s go…

1) Do you have any phobias?  Several, but the one that comes into play most often is calling strangers or businesses on the phone.  I will do most anything to avoid making calls to people I don’t know.  It’s crazy.  But that’s why they call it a phobia.  I’m looking forward to becoming filthy rich… then it will just be a quirk.

2) What’s your favorite season?  Fall, of course.  Crisp air, bright colors, my birthday, Halloween, football and hockey start up. (Well, maybe not this year for the hockey.)

3) What’s the inspiration behind your blog title?  It sums up my attitude toward religion and social conservatism.  I believe in science over mythology and that colors most everything I do.  (Except for game jersey mojo, of course.  But even then I gather and analyze data.)

4) Where is your favorite place to shop?  Amazon.com.  No clutter, no rude people or clerks, and I can dress like a schlub without worrying about becoming one of the People of WalMart.

5) What’s your favorite food?  My home made pork chops, (Baltimore “Little Italy “ restaurant) Sabatino’s chicken parm, Pittsburgh fish sandwiches and Pinky’s lasagna.  German chocolate cake for dessert.  Or cherry pie.

6) Do you have a favorite room or spot in the house?  The reclining seat on the end of my sectional sofa.  That’s my spot.  I like it there so much that when I have to leave it to go back to work after Christmas vacation, I suffer post partum depression.

7) Do you have a favorite quote? See the next section.

8) What made you start blogging? I've always felt the need to write. Before PCs were invented (or at least before I had one) I used to keep a journal, on and off for years.  And I enjoyed reading blogs (after I had a PC) but never felt qualified to do one myself.  But reading PittGirl’s The Burgh Blog, which later became That’s Church, inspired me to give it a shot myself.  I didn't think I’d ever be very good at it, but it made me want to try.  It’s still a work in progress.

9) Do you have a Facebook page for your blog? No, early on, I decided to keep my blog life separate from my personal “Facebook” life.  Mingling the two would force me to have to argue with family and friends, which is something I’m much happier avoiding.

10) Do you have any bad habits? Yes, many.  The one I’ll list here is that I procrastinate like crazy; especially any time I need to do something that I know will be a hassle.

11) What is your dream job or career?  I’d love to be a comedy writer, where I could collaborate with other like minds to produce something truly funny. 

One of the things Val did with her Versatile Blogger Award rules was that for the “7 Things About Me” part, she used movie quotes.  I like that, so I’ll do that too.  Only they’re not really “about me,” they’re just movie quotes I like.  See, even when I follow the rules, I still don’t follow the rules.  But I love movie stuff…

She didn't specify where they were from, so I won’t either, if you care to guess.  To me, they’re pretty obvious.  I’m not trying to go esoteric here… it’s just stuff I like.

Favorite Bluzdude Movie Quotes

* A riot is an ugly thing… and… I think that it is just about time that we had one!

* No more yankee my wankee… The Donger need food!

* I’m sorry I called you ‘Meatloaf,’ Jack.

* Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son.

* Come out to the coast, we’ll get together, we’ll have a few laughs…

* It’s K-K-K-Ken, c-c-c-coming to k-k-kill me!

* We at the FBI don’t have a sense of humor, that we’re aware of.

* First learn ‘stand,’ then learn ‘fly.’

* I love quick-time harch.

* I’m not bad… I’m just drawn that way.

* The only wisdom is in knowing that you know nothing.

   That’s us, dude!

* Strange things are afoot at the Circle-K. (Bonus quote from the same movie)

*Well, Clarice, have the lambs stopped screaming?

*Shit!  I've got five terrorists going southeast on Bakalakadaka Street!

*Back when we first met, you were all like, ‘Oh phooey, I burned the darn muffins!’  Now you go into a bar, ten minutes later, sailors come running out.  What’s up with that?

* What Jefferson was saying was, ‘Hey!  You know we left this England place ‘cause it was bogus; so if we don’t get some cool rules ourselves, pronto, we’ll just be bogus too.’ Yea?

* Remember what the MPAA says; ‘Horrific, deplorable violence is okay, as long as people don’t say any naughty words.’

* So, you think you could out-clever us French folk with your silly knees-bent, running about advancing behavior?  I wave my private parts at your aunties, you cheesy lot of second hand electric donkey bottom biters!

* Mongo only pawn, in game of life.

I had to close with that one.  Rest in peace, Alex Karras. 

The ALDS Bluz Part 2

Disclaimer: This is another post about baseball that’s not really about baseball.  Non-sports fans, please read on.

I wrote about attending Game 1 of the AL Divisional Series (ALDS) with my brother in my last post.  The game was on Sunday, and featured a 2 and a half hour rain delay.  I also had tickets to Game 2, on Monday night and I went with my friend, Sitcom Kelly.

This time around, I didn't get to bask in the rarified air of the club section.  Our seats were 12 rows deep in left field.  That’s where Sitcom Kelly and I usually sit.  It provides close proximity to the field for the best price.

The game was at 8:00, so I bolted straight down to the park right after work.  I immediately headed for our usual pre-game hangout, The Bullpen, home of “Cheap Ass Beer.”  Because we had a good couple of hours to kill, I really wanted a place to sit, after having to stand the whole time during Sunday’s rain delay.  Luckily, I found one on the upstairs level.  But there would be a price for my comfort.

The reason we always go there is that in addition to having decent bar pizza, they sell cans of beer at 2 for $5.00.  This is a huge savings over the beer inside Camden Yards.  We usually put a good base on early, then nurse a couple of the $8 beers throughout the game.  So when I plunked down my 5-spot (plus tip) for a couple of Miller Lites, the bartender was like, “Um, we’re not running that special, because it’s the playoffs.  The beers are 2 for $8.00.”

Price gouging… because of a playoff game.  I expect price gouging during hurricanes and other public hardships, but this brazen money-grab rubbed me the wrong way.  I mean, just having a couple of playoff games in Baltimore should have been an unexpected trough of “found money” for all the local establishments.  The fact that they felt it necessary to raise the price per beer by 37% is just wrong.  How dare they take advantage of our Oriole Optimism?  Of course we continued to drink there anyway, because they were still cheaper than the beers at the game.  It was less than ballpark prices, but right around strip club prices (last I checked, many years ago). 

They had another rally towel giveaway, like they did for Game 1.  This time, the towels were white.  They shouldn't have done that either… I mean, who wants to be seen waving a white towel?  Isn't that the sign for giving up?  They've got to think these things through.

The biggest difference between these two playoff games and regular season games against the Yankees is that there were so few Yankee fans here for the playoffs.  Usually, they come close to outnumbering Orioles fans here and they’re definitely louder.  But with the tight control on who was getting offers to buy tickets, (season ticket holders, others that signed up in advance on the Orioles website), they really stacked the deck for the home team.

Not long after we got to our seats, it started to drizzle, shortly after which they announced another rain delay.  We retreated to the main concourse to wait it out.  Since I’d been sitting almost all day, I decided to stand for just a bit, right at the bottom of some stairs.  But before I could sit down (which I fully intended to do), this other broad and her boyfriend sat down directly behind me.  I mean if I bent at the knee to sit, I’d have sat right in her lap.  The nerve!  I hope she appreciated the view.  I whispered to Sitcom Kelly that this would be the perfect time for the after-effects of all that sausage and pizza and beer I had earlier, to kick in.

Luckily, this rain delay only ran 45 minutes, after which we settled into our seats and took stock of those around us.  Right in front of us, we found some Yankee fans.

These guys would be trouble all night; not for being obnoxious, but for standing up and blocking my view so often. 

I know I’m getting old and all, but it bugs the crap out of me when people stand up for no apparent reason, especially people in the front row.  It’s one thing to stand up out of excitement when someone cracks a long ball, but if you’re the only one in the section that’s standing up, I’m sorry, but you’re an asshole.  The rest of us didn't fork over big bucks for a close-up view of your butt cheeks.  Now sit the fuck down.

This was our view, when people weren’t blocking the field:

Over to the side, you can see where my brother and I were sitting on Sunday. 

The arrow points to where we were.

In fact, if you zoom in and squint, you can actually see us sitting there.

Closer still, you can see that my bro is watching the game, and I am posing thoughtfully for the camera.

No, there wasn't some kind of time-altering wormhole… Sitcom Kelly found a part of the Orioles website where they had a panorama picture that showed everyone in the ballpark.  The last 2 shots were screen caps I took from it.

They had one from Monday night as well…

Cream colored jersey, orange and black cap, right side middle, sitting beside the guy that's STANDING UP. 

No, that’s not a bunch of long Polamalu-hair coming out from under my cap, that’s Sitcom Kelly, who got “Wilsoned” once again.

Here’s another cool sight from the night… future Hall of Famer Andy Petitte, warming up right in front of us.

“Hey Andy, tell Roger we said hi.  Oh yeah, you two aren't talking, ever since you ratted him out to the Steroids Committee!”

There was another character running around our section. 

I think this guy (who goes by the name of “Carne Cabeza,” which means “Meat Head” in

Spanish) violates every fashion law, as set forth by MistysLaws.  Leggings as pants: check.  Underwear on top: check.  Cape: um, I don’t know if she’s ruled on the use of a cape.  Maybe that’s yet to come.  I suspect the mask is an improvement.

All I can say is that this guy’s tights were so snug; you could tell whether or not he was Jewish.

For game mojo, I wore mostly the same stuff as I did for Game 1, although I changed hats and added a heavy windbreaker.  You probably think I should have changed jerseys, but my jersey might have been the only thing that was keeping the score tied for so long.  I figured the Yankees hit the winning home run while I was in the restroom, and were thus removed from the effects of my game jersey.  Also, my other O’s jersey was a size smaller, so I couldn't have gotten it over all my layers.

(Yes, the jersey always has to go on the outside.  That’s the rule.  I've only violated it once, because it was 11 degrees out, and the Steelers got their asses kicked by the Patriots in the 2005 AFC Championship Game.)

With the rain delay, the game ended up starting at almost the same time that Sunday’s game did, so I knew it was going to be another late night.  But because I dressed warmer I remained pretty comfortable.  We stayed for the whole game, which was another close one.  The Orioles were nursing a one-run lead throughout the later innings.  The place was really rocking and the towels were twirling like crazy.

“Riiiight, my Baltimore friends, towel twirling is only stupid when the towels are yellow and Steeler fans are twirling them...”

I always read about how Ratbird fans hate the Terrible Towel and hear them mock it every chance they get.  But here they are (disguised as O’s fans) doing the same damn thing.  Just wait until I hear the next Ratty fan dis The Towel.  And now I've got photographic evidence…

Anyway, the game wound up around midnight and the O’s hung on for the win.  The place went batshit crazy… I can’t lie; it was pretty cool.  So duly impressed was I that I ponied up for 2 pairs of AL Championship Series tickets this week.  Should my Birds get that far, it’s not something I would want to miss.  If championship baseball comes to town, it would be a crying shame not to be a part of it.

The ALDS Bluz

Sports Disclaimer: Yes, this is a post about playoff baseball, but not really about the game.  It’s all about my experience in attending the game, under trying conditions.  Sports fans and non-sports fans should be able to relate.  So read on!

As you may have seen in my prior post, the Orioles made their first playoff series since 1997.  I had tickets to the American League Divisional Series (ALDS) games on Sunday and Monday, so it’s been pretty busy for me.  In fact, I’m freakin’ exhausted right now.  But here I am pounding out a post for you, because that’s the kind of high-quality site I run here.  [Gak…]

My biggest challenge was finding someone to go to the game with me on Sunday night.  When I originally bought the tickets, I was expecting Sitcom Kelly to go, but due to an unforeseen circumstance, the first two games were going to be in Baltimore, even though they were the lower seed.  (Normally the team with home field advantage in the series plays the first games in their park.)  Sitcom Kelly and her sister were going to be in Ocean City over the weekend, but I thought the games would be played later in the week.  Fortunately for me, my brother Ed came through.

Ed was in Columbus since Friday night, meeting up with his old OSU frat brothers, with whom he was going to the game against Nebraska.  After the O’s clinched their ALDS birth, I texted him to see if he wanted to go.  I thought he’d be getting home too late, would be too tired, or wouldn't be allowed out of the house again after carousing all weekend, so I was happily surprised when he gave me a “Hell yeah!”

All the mojo signs were favorable for the game.  Friday night, the Orioles won their playoff birth.  Saturday night, the Buckeyes clobbered Nebraska.  Then Sunday, the Steelers won against the Eagles.  (Yes, I know I root for teams from three different states.  What of it?)  Yes, the Ratbirds won, but they looked terrible doing it.  So I thought I had some good omens for the O’s game.

The biggest problem looked to be the weather.  Unlike football, they will delay a baseball game if it’s raining.  But if it starts raining while the game is in progress, they will continue unless it starts pouring.  So I figured I’d need to be prepared.  I posted my game-day mojo apparel on Twitter, so you might have seen that, if you follow me.  (And why on earth wouldn't you?  @DarwinfishBluz… do it!  I’m hilarious and devastatingly insightful. And modest.) 

Anyway, this was my attire: I called it my Revenge of the Losers motif.

From the top down, Pittsburgh Pirates long-sleeved tee (perennial losers since 1992), Bowling Green Falcons sweatshirt (my alma mater and a non-very-competitive MAC school), a plain black tee, and my unfortunately cream colored Orioles jersey.

I wore that jersey when they won the Wild Card game, so I figured I’d continue the mojo.  You can also see the plastic rain poncho, which I wore all wrapped up under my sweatshirt.  It proved to make a nice seat-back pad.

The hourly report on weather.com said rain was likely between 8:00 and 9:00, and would then clear off, so I figured we’d be in good shape.  So as soon as the Steelers game was over, I changed gear, hopped onto the subway and rolled into town.  I met Ed outside the gates.  First stop was to get a look at the new Brooks Robinson statue.  I needed a picture so I could complete my set.  They just unveiled it at the end of September.

The statue of Brooks Robinson, the best fielding third baseman ever, no matter what Cal Ripken says.

As Ed and I headed up to the club level, it started to rain.  And it didn't stop for another three fucking hours!  Thanks for the tip, weather.com.

On the bright side, we were inside on the club level.  There was plenty of food and drinks to buy, but precious few places to sit.  Our game seats in the 5^th row were juuuuust at the edge of the overhang above us.  Our row was the last row that got wet. 

You can see the top of the overhang, in relation to our row.

As game time drew near, they announced that the game would be delayed, and they’d have more information later. 

It got to be just like when you’re stuck at the airport and they say, “We’ll have more information in a half hour,” and then 30-minutes later they say “We’re still delayed and we’ll have more information in another half hour.”

We were basically stuck in this glorified hotel hallway.

Club level, Camden Yards.  You can see one of the bar areas up on the right.

So while we were milling around and sweating our balls off, (remember all the layers I was wearing), it dawned on me that they were really screwing the pooch.  They had nice big HDTV monitors all over the place, but almost all of them only showed the static Delay Message.  Same thing on the scoreboard outside.

This was a time with several pro football games going on, plus a National League playoff game… why the hell wasn't some of that being shown?  They have this giant scoreboard, but they don’t have anything on it.  Put up a game!  Put up the studio guys or the pre-game show!  Put on Seinfeld, for Pete’s sake, but do something to alleviate the freakin’ boredom!  I've written before about some of the things I think they can improve at Camden Yards.  Add this to the list.

Eventually we found a TV showing the Bronco/Patriots game, but it took a while.  It just so happened that it was in a lounge that was serving (former Oriole great) Boog Powell’s famous BBQ sandwiches.  (His main stand is behind centerfield, out on Eutaw St.)  At one point, the line shrunk from gargantuan, down to almost nothing, so I took that as a sign that I should get a roast beef sandwich.  (I’m pretty flexible about interpreting signs.)

Oh, man, it was huge.  The lady put at least twice the amount of beef on there that they do outside.  Maybe that’s an unspoken bonus for ponying up the bucks for the club level.  I thought about getting a picture, but I just didn't have enough hands.  It’s tough to eat and drink and hold your plate while you’re standing around.

And just standing around proved to be a problem.  We were standing behind a couple who were sitting at one of the few tables in the place, when the dude turned around and said that the girl wanted me to take a couple steps back, because she was afraid I was going to drop something on her.

I told him that at $10 a sandwich, I wasn't dropping shit and I was eating over my plate, so he should just turn around and shut his cake hole.

OK, I didn't really say that the part about his cake hole.  And my brother was much more diplomatic about it and said that we all have to make the best of a trying situation here, and since he was lucky enough to have a table and chair, he should just count his blessings.  Anyway, it was only another minute or two before I was done, so problem solved.  Ed said later that he thought the guy (that was in front of him) was just feeling crowded because he kept scooting his chair around.  He just blamed it on the girl, like a putz.

Eventually, we heard a commotion from outside as they announced that they were setting game time at 8:40, (from what was supposed to be a 6:07 start), so this ended up as a two and a half hour rain delay.  The ground crew took to the field to a big ovation, and began the work of getting the tarp off and preparing the field.

The Running of the Tarp.

 Why the FUCK are they spraying water on the field after a 2-hour rain delay?  Why not just take the tarp off earlier?

Here’s another thing that bugged me.  Look at the playoff logo on the field.

It just says, “PostSeason”

They couldn't spell out “Divisional Series?”  Were they trying to save money by only doing one logo, covering the ALDS, AL Championship Series and World Series?  Having a graphic that just says “PostSeason” is like producing a Valentine’s Day card that just says, “Holiday.”

They also supplied a give-away to all attendees… an Orioles rally towel.

The copycatting of the Steelers’ Terrible Towel continues.

To me, it looks like the Oriole Bird has to take a serious pee and is trying to hold it.  It cracked me up that they also had this picture painted outside the men’s room.

My blogger friend Misty was also at the game, in club seats across the Yard in left field.  She said her son had a green sign and wanted me to try to get a picture.  I said I’d try, but no promises.

See that little green smudge?  You’re welcome, Misty.  Sorry I don’t have a better telephoto lens.

This was our perspective for the game.  Pretty good seats, if you ask me.  And it was great to see the place packed, for a change.

As for the game, it was OK.  It was close.  O’s had a brief lead, but really couldn't do too much with the Yankees pitcher C.C. Sabathia.  The score remained 2-2 most of the way.  After his wild weekend, plus the long delay, Ed checked out after the 5^th inning.  I couldn't blame him.  I was tired, and I laid around all day after having a good night’s sleep.

Even with all the layers, I got pretty cold whenever there was a breeze.  I should have worn some kind of windbreaker.  (And I did at Monday’s game.)  After the 8^th inning, and the O’s got a lead-off double but couldn't even get the guy as far as 3^rd base, I decided to start moving on.  It was about a quarter to 12 and I’d seen enough. 

I was also getting tired of the loud drunk a few rows behind me, who thought he was much funnier than he really was.  (Note to drunk guy: Bellowing at Sabathia that he was still fat stopped being funny by the 3^rd inning.  You need to learn the meaning of the concept, “enough.”)

I went down to ground level to use the restroom before I left and I pretty much regretted it.  Not only did the Yanks’ #8 batter hit a home run, the stall I went into had recently been the site of a full-fledged chunking.  I peed as quickly as I could, before I added to the carnage, while ensuring that I touched nothing.  Bleah…

I made my way to the flag court standing-room area for one last glance at the game, to make sure I didn't have any further reason to stay.  The Yankees promptly scored another run to go up 4-2, and with the way the O’s weren't hitting that night, I didn't see any reason to expect a change, so I bolted and got to the subway about 12:05.  Turns out, the Yankees kept scoring and won the game 7-2.

You know, it’s one thing to watch a late ballgame and then turn off the TV and tumble into bed.  It’s quite another when after the game; you have to get out of a crowded stadium and make a 50-minute trek home before tumbling into bed.  I didn't get to bed until 1:15 and even then, I couldn't seem to fall asleep.

Man, did that alarm ever go off early on Monday… But it was cool because that night, I’d get to do it all again.  This time it would have to go more smoothly, wouldn't it?  Wouldn't it??

Director’s DVD Commentary: Sorry I ended up running so long.  Every time I went back through it to cut, I remembered more stuff to add.  My apologies…

Odd Bits - The ALDS Edition

I was going to resume with the retail stories today, but there’s just been too much going on this week.  So here we are again, with the Odd Bits.  And now for the first bit:

WHOO HOO!  HOW BOUT DEM O’S??

Despite my deepest fears and anxieties, the Orioles made their way to the American League Divisional Series (ALDS) last night, by beating the Texas Rangers 5-1.  The O’s named Joe Saunders to pitch; a guy they picked up off the scrap heap a couple months ago.  His previous record when facing Texas in their park was 0-6, with a 9-point-something ERA.  But somehow, sage manager Buck Showalter knew what strings to pull and got 5-plus innings out of the guy, who only gave up one run.

Meanwhile, the Orioles scrapped and manufactured runs bit by bit, until next thing you knew, they had a 4-run lead going into the late innings.  It was unbelievable to see the O’s celebrating on the field… their first such celebration since 1997.  Meanwhile, Showalter just stood off to the side, (almost) smiling like a proud grandfather. 

I’m very relieved that the game was won clean, without any shenanigans like they had in Atlanta, where you’d swear the NFL replacement refs were moonlighting as umpires.  Now I don’t know that botching that “infield fly rule” call cost Atlanta the game… good teams can overcome bad calls, but it certainly didn't look good.  Nor did the fans at the game, who pelted bottles, cans and garbage out onto the field and contributed to a 20-minute delay.  It made them look like spoiled children.

I’m sure TBS wasn’t too thrilled either, because the delay pushed the game back into the slot where they were supposed to air the AL Wild Card game.  They had to move coverage onto TNT for 15 minutes, no doubt ticking off the people that wanted to see “A Time to Kill.”

So, this means that I get to go see Game 1 on Sunday (6:15) and Game 2 on Monday (8:00).  The Steelers will be on TV at 1:00 on Sunday, so I can watch the game at home in peace, then hit the subway and roll on out to The Yard before game time, for a little Charm City-style camaraderie.  (Crab cakes and a National Bohemian.)  OK, for me, it will probably be more like a bratwurst and a Miller Lite.

I also have to work on my accent.  See, in Baltimore, they don’t call them the “O’s” like in “rose.”  Old time Baltimoreans say it like “Ay-oooze.”  “How ‘bout dem Ay-oooze?”

Orioles Mojo

For most of my time here, the only thing I’ve worn to O’s games has been an orange Orioles t-shirt, either one I bought, or one of the T-Shirt Night giveaways.  Then for this season I got a white #32 Matt Wieters game jersey.  I've had mixed results wearing that one to the games.  (No I haven’t tracked it, I only have anecdotal information.)

But last week, I ordered a #21 Nick Markakis jersey and it came last night.  Given its untested mojo potential, I wasn't sure if I should wear it during the game or not.  But I figured since it was the playoffs, a bold step may be required.  I wore the jersey and learned that so far, it has some quality mojo.  But I am a bit dismayed over another aspect… the jersey isn't white.

A team’s home jersey is supposed to be white… blinding white… Mitt Romney-white.  When on their home field, the players are supposed to sparkle in the summer sun.  One of my earliest memories is that first time I went to a ballgame, at Wrigley Field in Chicago, and seeing the lush green of the grass and ivy wall, as a backdrop for the dazzling white Cubbie uniforms in between the blue pinstripes.

The jersey I was sent is more of a cream color.  Or eggshell… or ecru.  (And I hate that I even know that ecru is a color.  Stupid crossword puzzles…) I wasn't sure if it might be an effect of low or incandescent lighting, so I compared my new jersey with the one I had.

No contest.  The old #32 is snow white, the new #21 is cream colored.

Other than that, it looks to be a decent knockoff.  When paying $30.00 for a jersey that should, in theory, cost a couple hundred, you can’t really complain.  So I figure, I can wear the white one when I go to day games, and the cream-colored one when I go to night games and the off-white will be less noticeable.  Unless, of course, the O’s lose when I wear it.  Then all bets are off.

I Love Rock n O’s

You know who else is really excited about the Oriole in the playoffs?  My close personal friend, Joan Jett.  I read that she sent the Orioles players a letter of support, along with a box of CDs and other swag.  The letter was posted up on a bulletin board in the clubhouse.

The first time I met Joan, it was at an Orioles game at the old Memorial Stadium in the mid-80s.  She was sitting in our row, (we had my dad’s company seats behind the dugout), so I got her autograph and exchanged pleasantries.

I saw her at Camden Yards in 2003, but I didn't get to talk to her.  She was there to play a free show after the game.  But before that, she served as “Bat Grrl” for the Old Timers Game they had before the main game.  She took her duties seriously too, as she hauled her little ass out there after every Oriole hitter, to retrieve the bat.

Joan, talking to one of the game announcers.  This was during her unfortunate Peroxide Buzz Cut Phase.

This is how I usually recall Joan Jett:

My brother sent me this newspaper clipping in 1989, after Joan threw out the first pitch at a game.  Yowza!

(Of course I still have it… What?)

It was such a cross section of fans at her show after the game.  I saw middle-aged rockers, mixing with bad-ass biker types, mixing with rough-looking lesbians, with a smattering of teenage fans as well.

Regardless of the audience, Joan always rocks.

Director’s DVD Commentary: Unfortunately, I didn't get many quality pictures.  This was my first digital camera, probably no more than 1.2 megapixels.  It just didn't have the juice or much of a zoom.  ALSO, if there is any justice in the world, Joan Jett will take her rightful place in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, now that she is on the ballot for the 2nd time.  It's about twenty-some years overdue.

Birthday Bluz

Following my blog friend Val’s declaration that her birthday month be declared Valtember, I intended to spend the month celebrating Bluztober.  My birthday was on Monday, (along with my same birthday’d friend Jessica!) but at this age, I kind of run out of steam for the big celebrations.

Last year, it was like, “OMG, the Big Five-Oh!  Let the Wild Rumpus start!” 

This year, it was like, “51?  Meh…”

Nevertheless, I made out OK.  Pinky hooked me up real nice, with a chicken parm dinner and my favorite birthday cake.

It’s a German Chocolate cake, not a meat loaf.  Trust me.

I’m 51 now… I don’t need roses or clowns or footballs on a cake… just the rich goodness that is German Chocolate icing.  I would eat a shoe box if it was covered in German Chocolate icing.

Pinky also hit the right notes with my birthday presents too…

Pecan turtles and Crown Royal… what’s not to love?

She also did a new picture for me, based on a card my mom once sent.

A goldfinch; the kind that used to frequent my parent's back yard in Green Bay.

I got some other goodies from the rest of the family, (and thank you all for that!), so I had a nice, cozy little birthday.  I don’t really need a whole month of it… I got shit to do…

Like get ready for some PLAYOFF BASEBALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

Home Team Sports - The 2nd Retail Intermission

I’m again interrupting the epic narrative of my former retail career, to take another quick breather and address a new topic.  I’m guessing no one but Katie Ett will mind.  I’ll be back with Act III shortly.

It’s been a real weird time here in old “Charm City” for the last month or so.  The Baltimore Orioles, who haven’t been to the playoffs or even had a winning season since 1997, have been nose-deep into a playoff run. 

You all know by now that I’m Pittsburgh-born and bred, and a die-hard fan of all the Pittsburgh pro teams.  But I also fully support the Orioles.  Because the Pittsburgh Pirates are in the National League and the Orioles are in the American League, there’s no reason I can’t support both.  The two teams pose no threat to each other.  The only times I have to choose between them are the inter-league games they play every couple of years, or if they should meet in the World Series.  (The latter would be considered a sign of the apocalypse.  The Pirates haven’t had a winning season since 1992!)

I probably see five or six Orioles games every year.  Camden Yards is a 15-minute walk from my office and 10 minutes from my subway stop.  When you have a major league ballpark that close by, it would be a shame not to take in a few games.  I usually do a post on them when I go, especially if I get some good pictures... or appear in good pictures.  As you may remember, I had a streak of about 4 straight games where I appeared in the crowd shots on TV or in news wire photos.  Forrest Bluz…

Anyway, as the baseball season rolled up to the end of the regular season, it dawned on me that I’ve never been in a city that experienced a playoff run, where I supported the home team.

I never lived in Pittsburgh for any of the Pirates, Steelers or Penguins playoff appearances.  I lived in Cleveland when the Browns went to the playoffs and I lived here in Baltimore for the Ravens frequent playoff trips, but I was always rooting feverishly against them.  [Hock-Ptooey!]  So I’ve never been able to experience the common bond that the stretch run brings to the contending town.

It’s been pretty cool.  It’s nice being on the inside for a change, as opposed to the dude on the outside, flinging poo at everyone else and desperately trying to rain on their parade.  I enjoy the occasional look of surprise from others in the office, when they see me rocking an O’s hat, or game jersey on Jersey Day.  I hope that it at least demonstrates to them that I’m not just being a contrary bastard when I wish ill on the Ravens. 

“See?  I like the orange birds… just not the Ratbirds.”

I mentioned during my last “retail story intermission” post how I was able to buy some playoff tickets in case they make it to the American League Divisional Series (aka the ALDS.)  What can I say?  I was caught up in the playoff fever.  Between Sitcom Kelly and her sister buying tickets for a Wild Card game and a prospective Game 5 of the ALDS, and me buying tickets for ALDS games 1 and 2, I felt confident that I’d get to see my first baseball playoff game.  The only way I get frozen out would be if the Orioles earn the 2^nd Wild Card seed, have to play “away,” and then lose.

It must have been the playoff euphoria and the intoxicating group ethos that led me to ignore Bluz’s Mojo Axiom #1, which states: Thou shalt not count thy chickens before they hatch.  Seriously, I knew better, but I couldn’t help but talk about attending the playoff games and heck, even make arrangements regarding who to take with me.

Early this week, the Orioles were tied with the Yankees for the division lead, and were a game ahead of the A’s for the Wild Card, and if they won the division, they’d be positioned to play the Detroit Tigers in the ALDS.  Remember my buddy Rik, aka The Chairman of Fuck Off, aka Detroit Tiger Fan #1?  We got on the phone and made plans for him to come out and watch the games with me, and perhaps even insult Boog Powell again.

“Screw you, and screw your BBQ too.  Bud Lite rules!”

I think that was the last straw.  Immediately after I got off the phone with Rik, the O’s promptly lost to Tampa and both the Yankees and A’s won.  That made it extremely unlikely that the Orioles would win the division, because the Yanks were playing the now-toothless Red Sox.  So both the Yankees and A’s won their last 2 games, while the Orioles took only one out of two.  All the O’s needed to do was win last night’s game and the Wild Card game would be here.  But no such luck.  The Karmic reprisal was severe.

As I feared, the Orioles will play the Texas Rangers in the Wild Card game Friday night.  If they win, they play the Yankees here on Sunday and Monday.  If they lose, their season is over.  One game and done.

I probably ought to stop writing about it before it’s too late.

But if they do make it in, Sunday is going to be pretty stressful.  They haven’t announced what time the game will be, probably because Baltimore and Arlington TX (one of which will host the first game) are in different time zones.  I’m figuring, because the Yankees are playing, the game will be on during prime time, which I’m counting on.  I’d hate to have to choose between going to the playoff game and watching the Steelers game at 1:00.

It would get REEEEALLY interesting if the Steeler game isn’t on TV (for which I don’t have definitive confirmation yet) and the O’s play the late game.  That would mean I’d have to go to the sports bar to see the Steelers, get all liquored up, then roll on down to Camden Yards (on the subway) for the baseball game.  It could be quite a marathon.  I’d also have to do a quick change in the car, to shed my Steelers game jersey mojo, put on my Orioles gear in the parking lot and hope I don’t get arrested.

“Seriously, officer… I gotta support the team!”

Retail Bluz Part 8 - The Home Office Quest Edition

As you can see by the “Part 8” in the title, I've been writing about my early experiences working in retail. Given the single comment on the last post, I guess I better start wrapping things up. But if you’re new to the series, you can pick up the trail from the beginning by clicking here for the first “Retail Bluz” post. I now pick up the tale after having moved from Cleveland to upstate New York, to take a store close to our home office, in which it was my goal to get a job.

Getting started in this new mall store was no different than any other store I took over. It all looked good at first, but once you started digging, you saw some things that weren’t right. I was assured I had a well-oiled machine on my hands, and it did look good on the surface, but there were some areas that needed work, so I dug in.

It was a pretty rough time for me. I was in a new town, far away from my closest friend or relative, and had all new management above me, to whom I was an unknown and untested commodity. 

Then I got some bad news from my old store… some of my former employees were pilfering mass quantities of CDs from the store. The ringleader was a gregarious, glad-handing frat-boy type and he got a couple more clerks in on it. That one really hurt, because he was my guy. He was one of the few guys that I felt I clicked with. We’d even gone out to see some blues shows together. Asshole… My old friend The Dragon Lady had succeeded me there and I felt horrible for leaving this steaming pile in her lap. She deserved better.

It did make sense, in retrospect. I remember, not long before I began pursuing the New York job, I found a huge stash of CD cellophane wrappers stuffed under a stock bin in the back corner. The easiest way to defeat the alarm sticker, (back before they were placed inside the jewel case at the factory), was to unwrap the CD before taking it out of the store. I was so shocked and embarrassed at the find that I never told anyone. I just figured I’d get raked over when we got the results of the next physical inventory (where they determine losses.) I thought it was outside thieves, but now it was clear that it as an inside job. There should have been no way that someone could unwrap and conceal that many CDs at once, without insider help.

So with that in mind, I couldn't really complain about anything I inherited at my new store.

The biggest change was the company politics. Because of our proximity to the home office, my store was the “guinea pig” for all new programs or displays. Sometimes I was told to come in early because the execs wanted to try out a new display system or design. I got to learn a lot about the office culture simply by watching the interplay.

It was especially interesting when the Big Boss, the founder and principal stockholder, attended. He was a real piece of work and was often very biting and sarcastic. It was then I realized how the whole company vibe worked. The Big Boss would upbraid his VPs, who would then berate the Regional Managers, who would dump on the District Managers, to in turn chew out the store Managers. It was a living example of shit rolling downhill. Everyone abuses the people below them until you get to my level at the bottom, where our only recourse was to drink heavily and curse our fate. (And hang out in strip clubs.)

Another problem was the plethora of people I had to answer to. Everyone who visited from the office seemed to feel like they could tell me what to do and how to do it. And spies were everywhere. It was bad enough to have to be on the lookout for the brass, but their wives and admins were also prone to stopping by and reporting back what they thought they saw. 

It didn't matter what you were doing, how short-staffed you were, or how busy things got… the only message that stuck was “I wasn't greeted when I came in.” It was maddening.

This was also the first time, during my tenure with the company, that I wasn't working for the original guy that hired me. The first DM in NY to whom I reported, was fine. We got along great. But then he quit within a month or two of my arrival. (No, I didn't have anything to do with it, I think he just got tired of getting shit on by his boss.) So they brought on a new DM from another industry; a woman, this time.  (There were very few female DMs at the time; perhaps because they were too smart to take the job.)

She was given to me to train in the ways of our company. I showed her all of our systems and gave her a good grounding in what we were asked to do and how things got done. Still, it was weird when she started doing the job. I thought she was overly hard on me, more than she was with the other managers.  I figured it might be because she knew that I knew more about running the stores than she did. We ended up butting heads on occasion, so it didn't surprise me when she snaked me on my annual evaluation.

She gave me a fair to middling evaluation, which was far below the level I was accustomed to earning.  I know it’s hard when the evaluator changes, but I felt she should have taken prior evaluations into account. I certainly didn't become drastically less effective during that time period, yet if you went by my evaluation, it sure looked that way. I thought she was more concerned with looking like a tough, female manager than doing what was right by her people.

So after about a year, it didn't surprise me when they told me they wanted me to manage a different store out in the suburbs, one that needed a turnaround but was a far less visible or prestigious assignment. What could I say? I still needed the job and I still wanted to make the jump over the wall into the home office. I didn't like it but I was determined to show them that they were wrong about me.

There were some bumps, of course. I had to shake up the staff a bit, as usual. But we brought the store around. Within a couple of months, we were actually making our sales projections. It was a little easier to operate without all the home office visitors getting in my way.

It was around that time that our company started piloting POS (point of sale) registers. We take them for granted now, but in 1991, it was a new thing to have a register system that would not only record the item price, but the title and quantity, and transmit it to the home office inventory system, which would, in turn, send you back another copy of that title. It also contained a crude emailing system, which would transmit messages from the office to the register and back. (It was years before the company ever moved to a stand-alone emailing system.) They piloted a handful of these registers and because of my strong background in store operations, they put one in mine.

I put the thing through its paces to see what it could do. I took copious notes and once a week, I got to attend a meeting at the home office and report back to all the interested parties (from several departments.) This proved to be the “in” that I needed, as I could get some face time in front of the office people and drop some valuable observations and suggestions on how the register could be made better.

During those interactions, I learned that they were creating a job in the Merchandising Department that would be perfect for me. It was a position to monitor and reduce our stores’ use of One Stops (the independent record wholesalers that carry product from all record labels and would ship orders to any store by the following day). I had extensive experience using the One Stops, so they must have figured I’d be good at trying to stop people from using them too much.

I interviewed with a couple of people and somehow or another, tricked them into hiring me. I think there was some resistance somewhere, but Dave, (my new boss and subject of my story about keeping one’s mouth shut under pressure) convinced everyone that I was the guy they needed.

So, roughly a year and a half after making the jump to New York, after getting bum-rushed out of one store and succeeding in another, I was able to fulfill my goal of getting my first desk job and getting the hell out of a store. And I was finally able to say goodbye to freakin’ name tags!

My biggest problem now was how to dress. I was always so wary about making mistakes in my dress, like wearing colors that didn't “go together,” I tended to wear very plain colors, textures, and patterns.  Take ties, for example.

All of my ties were single color, so I didn't have to worry about stripes clashing with checks, and stuff like that. I had one tie that had a few diagonal stripes; that was for when I wanted to go “bold.” But the stores were one thing; now I had to blend into an office.

Turned out, I spent way too much time worrying about it. Early in my time there, I saw my boss wearing a loud Mickey Mouse tie. That’s when I realized that I was totally overthinking it. Everybody there seemed to revel in wearing bright, loud ties. So I dove in with both feet and spent the next several years buying the loudest, coolest ties I could find. I had ties with wild animals, dinosaurs, famous paintings, piano keys, guitars, and the Three Stooges. I still mean to do a post just about ties… maybe if I ever finish this story…

But next: in and out of office life.