Forgive Me Father, For I Have Sinned

Deriving pleasure from the pain and suffering of others is not a good thing.  But, it sure can be fun!

Kim and I went to the Orioles – Red Sox game last night.  We were invited by our friends who are moving to Arizona in a few weeks.  It was a great opportunity to spend some time with them before they leave.  Who knew it would turn into the greatest live sporting event I’ve ever experienced? 

In case you haven’t been paying attention, last night was the final day of baseball's regular season.  The Red Sox had managed to blow a 9-game lead in the wild card race over the last 4 weeks and came into last night’s game tied with Tampa Bay.  In order to avoid the biggest collapse in regular season history, the Red Sox needed one of two things to happen: 

Þ    A Red Sox win combined with a Tampa Bay loss to the Yankees would put the Red Sox in the playoffs.

Þ    A Red Sox loss combined with a Tampa Bay loss would mean that the two teams would play a one-game “play-in” to determine who got the final playoff spot.

There was one thing that the Red Sox had to avoid.  A Red Sox loss combined with a Tampa Bay win would eliminate the Red Sox from the playoffs.

I’m not a big baseball fan.  The season is too long and the games are too slow.  But, I did grow up a Yankees fan.  There’s something special that comes with being a Yankees fan, even a moderate fan like me.  That something special is an intense dislike of Red Sox fans.  Dealing with their “woe is me” mantra during the years of the Curse of the Bambino was bad.  I thought that if they finally won a World Series, they’d mellow.  I was wrong.  Winning two World Series titles since 2004 made Red Sox Nation arrogant, loud, and just downright annoying.  So, I went into last night’s game with just one wish – final elimination of the Red Sox from playoff contention.

For the longest time last night, it did not look like my wish would be granted.  The Red Sox took a one-run lead early.  Meanwhile, the Yankees had jumped out to an early 7-0 lead on Tampa Bay.  As the night wore on and those scores held up, the 10,000 or so Red Sox fans who had taken over Camden Yards became increasingly frenzied.  “Papi, Papi,” they chanted when David Ortiz came to bat.  “Let’s go Red Sox,” they yelled whenever the Red Sox mounted a scoring threat.  “MVP, MVP,” they cheered for Jacoby Ellsbury whenever he reached base.  I’m not an Orioles fan but I was embarrassed for the home team, playing the final game of the regular season in a stadium that was nearly one-half empty with the majority of those in attendance loudly cheering on the opposition.

In the middle of the 7th inning, with the Red Sox still leading 3-2, a thunderstorm struck and halted play for over an hour.  After the rain delay, it seemed like the entire lower deck had been completely overrun by Red Sox fans.  As the Orioles went away empty in the bottom of the seventh inning and then again in the bottom of the eighth inning, the cheers of Red Sox Nation grew louder and my frustration grew stronger.  The only positive thing happening was Tampa Bay's comeback in their game.  I kept my eyes glued to the scoreboard in right field as it showed the Tampa Bay score: 7-2, 7-3, then 7-6!  "Please God," I thought.  "If the Red Sox are going to win tonight, you’ve got to let Tampa Bay at least complete their comeback."  Sure enough, they tied it up with two outs in the bottom of the 9th inning and the game went to extra innings.

It was now the bottom of the 9th inning at Camden Yards.  The Red Sox still led 3-2.  The cute little boy in the Red Sox jersey who was sitting behind us keeping score was beside himself with anticipation of the impending Red Sox victory.  I was starting to hate him.  The nice older couple in front of us were out of their seats, jumping up and down with delight as the first two Orioles batters struck out.  I hated them, too.

But, then it started to happen.  No-name #1 came to the plate and belted a double to right field.  Suddenly, a guy in an Orioles jersey was parading around the stadium right in front of us holding a handmade sign that read “Choke: The Official Soft Drink of the Boston Red Sox.”  It was beautiful.

The little boy behind us and the older couple ahead of us were quieting down, as was the rest of the visiting Red Sox Nation.  Then, No-name #2 smacked another double and suddenly the game was tied.  I was turning into the world's biggest Orioles fan, jumping up and down, high-fiving my friend, shouting in celebration while Kim looked at me like I was crazy.  This was awesome!  I wasn’t the only one having a good time.  A well-dressed older man seated to our right started chanting “Choke!  Choke!  Choke!”  A few well-meaning Orioles fans quickly joined him.  The Red Sox fans had gone completely quiet.

It was time for another conversation with God.  “Please, we already sat through a rain delay.  You’ve let the Orioles tie the game.  Would it really be too much trouble to have them actually win it right here and right now?” That God guy is the man!  He answered my prayer immediately, with no-name #3 sending a sinking liner to left field, just out of reach of the left fielder.  As no-name #2 rounded third, headed home, and slid in safely ahead of the throw, I was no longer shouting – I was screaming.  Just a few short hours before, I hadn’t even known the depth of my hatred for the Red Sox.  Now I understood it.  It was deep.  It was real.  It felt good.

All around me, Red Sox fans were in a state of shock.  One minute, they were on the verge of the playoffs.  Now, they were stunned, desperately hoping that their hated rivals, the Yankees, could find a way to beat Tampa Bay.  The good people who manage Camden Yards sensed the importance of the moment.  Before the Orioles had even stopped celebrating on the field, the giant video screen in center field started showing live coverage of the Tampa Bay game.  We walked down from our seats to the walkway above the lower level of seating.  As we waded through a crowd of other fans leaving their seats, it happened.  On the giant screen, Tampa Bay's Evan Longoria hit a screaming line drive that barely cleared the left field fence.  Tampa Bay had done it.  The Red Sox were officially eliminated.

I've heard about the rug being pulled out from under you. Until last night, I'd never seen it actually happen.   The Red Sox fans who remained in the stadium didn't look angry.  Instead, they were pale, shaken, and completely silent.  I tried to feel bad for them but I just couldn't.  I was too happy.

The Greatest Day Ever?

Remember that photo I posted a few months back of (a squealing) Tom Brady riding a water slide while on vacation?  I didn't think I'd ever see a better picture of Tom Brady.  Now, I've been proven wrong after viewing several shots of Tom walking off the field at Ralph Wilson  Stadium yesterday afternoon after the Bills finally beat the Patriots.

Like every other Bills fan, I've been waiting a long time for the Bills to beat the Patriots.  It's been 8 long years.  This past week, I started to feel confident that the wait might finally be over.  On Saturday afternoon, as I made my picks in my weekly confidence pool, I hesitated for a moment as it came time to make the Bills - Patriots selection.  Believe it or not, I actually pick against the Bills quite a bit.  It's been hard not to in the past few years.  This week, though, I had a feeling about the Bills.  Thankfully, I was right.

Today, I was interested to see how my life would change now that the Bills finally beat the Patriots.  At first, it didn't seem like things were that different:

• The alarm still went off at 5:25AM.
• The humidity was 100% for what seemed like the 30th day in a row.
• Nobody made me breakfast (or lunch). 
• I had to put a coat and tie on for a meeting.

But, now that I think about it, there were some noticeable differences:

• I didn't hear a single commercial during the Howard Stern show on my way to and from work.  And, I actually heard two separate segments.
• In all that humidity, I'd planned to walk to and from my meeting in downtown Baltimore.  But, one of my colleagues decided to drive so I got to ride in air-conditioned comfort both ways.
• I got an awesome dinner -- pork chops from our local pig, an iceberg wedge, and Texas toast.

Yes, life is pretty good with the Bills sitting alone in first place in the AFC East, the only remaining unbeaten team in the entire AFC.  I imagine it feels sort of like winning the Super Bowl.  Of course, as a Bills fan, I don't know that feeling -- yet.

"Do You Have a Plan?"

Jay decided this weekend that he needed a haircut and, in a weak moment, he agreed to have me do the honors.  So, after dinner, I turned on the spotlight on the deck, got out the clippers and a stool, and got down to business.

Giving a clipper cut isn't really too hard.  Kim, though, asked me to let her take a peek at my work before I announced that I was officially done.  So, after I'd given Jay's head a once over with the #2 guard, tidied up the edges, and blown the loose hairs off of his forehead and neck (they don't do that for you at the local barber shop), I asked her to come on outside and pass judgment.  She stepped outside and took a look.  I can imagine that Jay wasn't too thrilled (I know I wasn't) when the first thing out of Kim's mouth was the following question: "Do you have a plan?"

What kind of question was that, I thought?  Jay's hair was laying in clumps at my feet.  If I didn't have a plan, it was pretty late to start thinking of one.  If I did have a plan, her question was a clear indication that I'd failed to execute it.

In any event, things weren't really that bad.  Kim gave me a couple of suggestions (trim the sideburns, clean up the back of the neck, give the top another pass).  I dutifully complied.  Jay jumped in the shower to clean up all the loose hair and just came down for a final inspection.  He looks pretty darn good.  Salon de Miguel is back in business.

R.I.P. R.E.M.

First, the Big East starts to break up.  Now comes yesterday's news that R.E.M. is calling it quits after over 30 years together.  I wonder what great institution from my past will be the next to fall?

R.E.M.'s output from the '80's and early '90's was their best.  It kept me company on many of my walks to and from the Takoma Park Metro from 1989 - 1994 when I was doing government duty.  In celebration of their great catalogue of music, here's my top 10 list of R.E.M. songs. 

10.  Near Wild Heaven.  Mike Mills' harmony was a great complement to Michael Stipe throughout R.E.M.'s career.  Here he sings lead.  It doesn't hurt that the following song on the CD (Endgame) is the best instrumental ever.  It can't make this list though.
9.   I Am Superman.  A great stalker song.
8.   Talk About the Passion.  Just love the guitar at the beginning.
7.   Catapult.  So simply constructed.
6.   E-Bow the Letter.  A lot of people don't like Patti Smith but she fits in perfectly in this song.
5.   It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine).  Overplayed (particularly by the guy who lived next to me at Kappa Sig junior year) but still a great song.  A couple months ago, I even caught one of the kids (I think it was Jay) singing along when it came on Sirius First Wave.
4.   Nightswimming.  A beautiful song.  Great piano line throughout.
3.   Begin the Begin.  Another flashback to Kappa Sig.  The perfect song to hear after a couple hours playing pong in the basement before the real party started.
2.   Fall on Me.  OK, it's about acid rain but it works anyway.
1.   Strange.  Still want to jump around each time I hear it.  Plus, it's got the best use of the lyrical refrain "Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-ooo" ever.

And, while it's not an official R.E.M. song, I've got to add one more: Hindu Love Gods cover of Prince's "Raspberry Beret."  Hindu Love Gods wasn't officially R.E.M. but the combination of Mike Mills, Bill Berry, Peter Buck, and Warren Zevon was fun.  Check it out, below.

Bye-Bye Big East

I remember spending a lot of time shooting baskets while growing up in upstate New York.  In Ontario, we had a backboard mounted on the rear garage.  I can remember my mom helping me shovel off the asphalt during the dead of winter so that I could shoot baskets.  Can you imagine how badly she must have wanted me out of the house?  I remember Alvin, our paper boy, taking a break from his afternoon paper route almost every day to hang out and shoot baskets.  I actually got kind of good at shooting baskets.  Unfortunately, I never developed any ball skills.  And, even on my best days, I never got much more than 3 or 4 inches of air between the ground and my Chuck Taylors when I went up for a rebound.

The high point of my basketball career came in elementary school, right after we moved to Elmira.  Hendy Avenue used to have a game between students and teachers.  You had to try out to make the team.  Try outs consisted of free throws and lay-ups.  Luckily for me, those were my specialties.  I made the team, played in the game against the teachers, and then hung up my laces.

Even if you didn't play basketball, when you grew up in upstate New York in the early 1980's, you were a Big East basketball fan.  Allegiances were split four ways -- you either liked St. John's, Syracuse, Georgetown, or Villanova.  Nobody really cared about any of the other teams in the league.

I've always been a Syracuse fan.  We didn't have a TV but all the Syracuse games were carried on one of the local radio stations.  I'd lay on the floor and listen while Louis Orr, Roosevelt Bouie, and Pearl Washington were in their hey-day.  When Syracuse finally made it to its first national championship game in 1987, I was home from Bucknell on spring break.  By this time, we had a TV and I was settled in to watch the game.  I made it through the first half and then the phone rang.  It was Kim, calling to profess her love (or something like that).  We'd been going out for about two months.  I was torn -- Syracuse was in the national championship game but my girlfriend was on the phone.  I took the call and we talked through the entire second half.  I ended up missing Keith Smart's game-winning baseline jumper but that was probably for the best since he played for Indiana.

After we moved down to Maryland, I realized how much I really liked Big East baskeball.  Even though Georgetown is in DC, it seemed like everyone in this part of the world was an ACC fan.  I grew to hate ACC basketball.  Duke with its elitist fans.  North Carolina and its baby blues.  Maryland, always with a chip on its shoulders, desperate to be seen on the same level as the Blue Devils and Tar Heels.  Then Maryland actually won the national title in 2002.  Oh, the agony.

But, then a miracle took place and, the very next year, the Orange finally won the national title.  Hannah and Nick started to become Syracuse fans.  We watched some great games over the next few years.  The 6-overtime thriller between Syracuse and UConn in the Big East tournament in 2009 was the best of them.

Now comes the news that Syracuse has left the Big East, to join the ACC of all things!  The noise I made when I heard that sounded something like aulck.  My guess is that Jim Boeheim made the same noise.  I can't imagine that he's happy about no longer playing Georgetown, Villanova, and St. John's.  I'm even going to miss Providence, Seton Hall, and Rutgers.  Nick summed it up the best for me.  He said "At least we already hate all the ACC teams."  How right he is.

The Idiot vs. The Idiot Box

We have 5 televisions in the house.  That's now one more than people who live here full time.  Things should be great, right?  Not quite.

• The remote for the kitchen in the TV is broken.  It controls the TV volume and the cable box but refuses to cooperate when it comes to simply turning the TV on and off.  I think it's been a couple years since the remote worked correctly.  You have to do that manually.
• The remote for the TV in the basement works only some of the time.  There's no rhyme or reason to when it works, which is maddening.  The problem is that it won't allow you to change cable channels.  It seems like such a little thing but getting out of the chair to change the channel is a killer.  Some times, after the TV's been on for a while, it does start working.  That, of course, only lulls you into thinking that it's finally going to work for good.  We've actually had Verizon send 3 different remotes as we try to fix the problem but with no luck.
• The remote for the TV in the family room works fine.  That makes it the most popular TV in the house.
• There are also no problems (yet) with the TV in our bedroom.  Of course, it's not HD (which seems to only bother me).
• Now the TV in the sitting room is acting up on us.  This started about 2 weeks ago.  The problem seems to be the cable box, which just randomly turns itself on and off in the midst of viewing.

After settling in last night on the floor in the sitting room to watch some college football and having the box cycle off 4 times in 1 hour, I'm a broken man.  I'm going to call Verizon to try to get at least that problem resolved.  Wish me luck.

Now What?

I came down to eat breakfast this morning a little late.  That meant that SportsCenter had been replaced by the Today show.  I poored a bowl of cereal (Kix -- bottom of the box, slightly stale) and sat down at the kitchen island.  About 4 spoonfuls in, my good friend Michele Bachmann's face appeared on the screen.  "Hmmm," I thought, "I wonder what bright thing she'll have to say this morning."

Michele Bachmann just flat out scares me.  The first time I ever saw her was a couple years back while on a business trip.  I have a real hard time sleeping in hotel rooms when I'm alone.  The temperature in the room is never right, the pillows are always too fluffy, and I always seem to have eaten too much.  Plus, you know I just can't fall asleep without spooning.  So, I usually end up lying awake in bed, switching channels endlessly, waiting to get tired.

That particular night, I stumbled onto one of the news channels.  They were interviewing Michele Bachmann.  I can't even remember the topic.  What I do remember is how robotic she was.  Regardless of the question, she had a talking point ready as a response.  She stated each talking point with the same frozen smile on her face.  She had a message to deliver and, by golly, she was going to deliver it.

It's become harder and harder for me to actually listen to Michele Bachmann when I see her on screen.  Usually, as soon as I catch a glimpse of her, I start making a disparaging comment.  This morning, though, I had a mouthful of cereal so she was safe for a moment.  Matt Lauer was asking her if she had a specific plan to jump start the economy, should she be elected President.  Michele immediately responded that one of the first things she'd do is push for a holiday on the repatriation of income earned overseas by U.S. corporations.  Uh-oh, I thought.  I actually kind of agree with her.  I felt dirty.

So, tonight I found myself searching the web, researching the exact details of Michele Bachmann's position on repatriating overseas income.  I've read articles in favor of a holiday, articles arguing for a permanent tax break, and articles that think any sort of break on the taxation of repatriated income is a bad idea.  Look at me -- I'm actually performing a civic duty and becoming a more educated member of the electorate!  And all because of Michele Bachmann.  Thanks, Michele.  I owe you one.

Turning In My Man Card

A couple years ago, I was food shopping at the Giant when I heard a familiar voice call my name.  It was our friend Bob.  He pushed his cart over and boxed mine in so that I couldn't move any further down the aisle.  Then, instead of asking for my license and registration, he asked for my man card.  I think after last night, I might have to officially turn it in.

Last night was the opening game of the NFL season.  The Packers and Saints got things kicked off in style, with a tremendously exciting game that came down to the very last play.  Of course, I only know that because I saw the highlights on SportsCenter this morning while eating my Special K (how else do you think I keep my girlish figure?).

By 8PM last night, Nick was parked in front of the TV watching the pre-game show.  I passed Kim in our bedroom when I headed up to brush my teeth.  I asked her if she was staying upstairs for the night but, like a true American, she said "No, I'm going down to watch the game."

After flossing and brushing, I hung out upstairs for a while and flipped through channels.  Finally, at 8:30PM, I sucked it up and headed downstairs to watch the game.  Kim and Nick were settled in for the game.  Even Jay popped in, as the Saints are his favorite team.  For a while, I dutifully sat on the couch, making comments about how good the Packers looked and showing my knowledge of off-season player moves by lamenting Reggie Bush's move to the Dolphins.  I made it til about 9:05PM, gave a yawn, and told them I was heading up for the night.

Once upstairs, I pulled down the covers, fluffed my pillow, got into bed, turned off the light, and settled in for the real reason I'd headed upstairs.  You see, it was Thursday night and I was all ready for a new episode of "Selling New York."  Imagine my disappointment when I found out that HGTV had decided to preempt all my friends at CORE, Warburg, and the Kleier's with a silly little show called "House Hunters: Urban Living."  It was a speed-dating version of "House Hunters" with 7-8 minute segments featuring one couple looking at 3 homes in a given city and then making their choice.  I tried to stick with it but I really just wanted to see Michelle Kleier.  I thought about switching over to football but I was simply too bummed.  So, I turned the TV off, rolled over, hugged my pillow, and sadly went to sleep.  I told myself that, maybe next week, Michelle will be back.  If not, I guess I could watch Thursday night college football on ESPN.  That is, if my man card is still valid.

Flashback

Our computer in the study is over 8 years old.  It has grown extremely temperamental.  You can never be sure how long it's going to take for an application to open.  After threatening to buy a replacement since last Christmas, I finally broke down and bought a new laptop about 2 weeks ago.  When I told Hannah, she was so shocked to hear that I'd spent money on a new computer that she asked if I'd been promoted.  No, that wasn't it.  The real reason I finally made the purchase was that I was afraid to think of what Kim would do to punish me if our old machine broke.

Of course, I don't want to simply get rid of the old machine.  Jay can certainly make use of it.  He's become mildly addicted to Facebook.  Now that school's back in session, he needs a computer for homework.  So, I decided to try and clean up the machine so that it can still be used.

One of my first tasks was to remove all of our photos from the hard drive.  Every picture we've taken since 2006 was stored on the machine.  While we don't take too many pictures, we still had almost 2,000 of them sitting on the hard drive taking up space.  Since they weren't really stored in any particular order, I decided to organize all of them.  That meant that I needed to look at each one first.

Our pictures follow a pattern each year:

• The kids' birthday celebrations at the kitchen table
• Easter egg hunts
• Family vacations
• Summer trips to Fox Point with a host of people being pulled behind the boat
• The back-to-school photo of Jay and Nick (and sometimes Hannah) on the driveway before heading off to school
• Random photos of dogs (usually eating out of the dishwasher, hanging out in the lawn, or curled up with a kid on the floor)
• Jay and the neighbors in their Halloween costumes
• The family trip to the Christmas tree farm to cut down the tree
• Christmas morning.

Because our picture-taking follows such a consistent pattern, it was actually pretty easy to organize our photos.  Now they're safely off the hard drive and neatly stored on USB drives and CD's.

When I finished up the job, I felt pretty good about myself.  I'd freed up almost 4GB of space on the hard drive.  Jay was free to keep on giving status updates on his Facebook page.  And, I'd had a chance to relive the past 6 years -- focusing only the good parts.  That's definitely the way to do it.

Why I Love the Big Ten Network

A couple years ago, the Big Ten started its own television network (creatively named the Big Ten Network).  We're lucky enough to have it on FIOS down here.  That means we never have to miss a Penn State football game, even when they're playing a weak sister like the Indiana State team they played yesterday.  Even better, it means we get to watch the great commercials that the high-class advertisers on the Big Ten Network air each Saturday afternoon.  Up until yesterday, I'd forgotten how much I missed things like:

• The little old lady who lives all alone and used to live in fear of falling down in her house and lying there without anyone knowing it.  Now, she doesn't have to worry anymore -- because she has Life Alert.
• The little old man (I wonder if he knows the little old lady in the Life Alert commercial) who used to be left behind by all the active people in his life but who's now able to join in -- thanks to his Hoveround.  He's also apparently never thirsty anymore because he went all out and got the one with the handy-dandy cup holder.
• The guy who now is able to work out every morning with his wife (much to her dismay) because he pops out of bed and immediately downs a 5-Hour Energy.
• My favorite attorney, Bob Goldwater, and the wonderful work he's doing with his class-action lawsuit against Reglan on behalf of everyone with tardive dyskinesia.  By the way, knowing your tardive dyskinesia symptoms can help you out quite a bit during your next game of charades.

I'll admit that I got a little thrown yesterday when I saw a Fiat commerical thrown into the mix.  I don't think I've ever seen a regular product get any ad time on the Big Ten Network before.  I guess they're trying to appeal to the big spenders in Nebraska.