My mind moves slowly,
as slow as the incoming clouds,
slightly faster than adagietto
though I hope to think
thoughts less vaporous
and more Viennese.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Tigers Update
I coined a nickname for the most recent Tiger, Aubrey Huff. It's "Half-Swing." I dubbed him this after watching last night's game in which he struck out three times on check swings. Half-Swing Huff.
It was nice to take two of three from the Angels in Anaheim. Not easy to do.
Fernando Rodney is only a little less roller coaster than Todd "Roller Coaster" Jones. I know because I haven't had to dip into my stash of antacids as much this season.
It was nice to take two of three from the Angels in Anaheim. Not easy to do.
Fernando Rodney is only a little less roller coaster than Todd "Roller Coaster" Jones. I know because I haven't had to dip into my stash of antacids as much this season.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Stargazing
More sickening than vomit stench that's
slowly rubbed from carpet fiber;
Giant swathe of old black shirt now faded
by ten thousand washings;
Blacktop over-pressed and rolled into a
varied line of potholes,
As one piece, one smell, one color with the
City dirt
I'm sweeping from
My patio onto the gaps of
City concrete open for the
City trees to grow the
City leaves of dirt to
City sky that dirties now
my breath
until
I wheeze.
I hate it less for what it is
Than for my role in making it--
This scape-less glowing rot--
And more for what it hides from me:
Clear voids of death dark black.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Quotable Leyland
Manager Jim Leyland on the reason Ryan Raburn has been hitting better of late:
"I told him that I was taking away his entrance music if he didn't start hitting. That's why he started hitting."
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Standing Tall in the Corner
My favorite thing to peruse during the baseball season is the mlb.com overall standings board. I would get into Baseball Prospectus but I already have enough black-hole-time-absorption machines in operation. The regular standings have just enough to keep me occupied for about 5 minutes, and then I can move on, satisfied.
Today's contemplation: Runs Scored and Runs Scored Againts. Now, the teams I root for: MN Twins (Land of My Heritage) in the AL and LA Dodgers (Land of My Birth) in the NL are a giving me very different feelings in my tummy.
The Dodgers have been on a tear. Everything is right. Manny Ramirez is "being Manny" to the tune of beating the living crud out of the ball (Boston, we thank thee). The young starters are doing things that make me giddy. And is all of the exuberance something we can continue to count on or should we trap our happiness in a jar and look at it longingly in July? Apparently, contrary to this man's existence, plan on repeated euphoria Dodgertown: our Runs Scored: 119; Runs Allowed: 82; Expected Win-Loss Record: 14-7. Actual Win-Loss Record: 14-7.
On the other hand, the Minnesota Twins. Now, the Twins have been having a lot of problems. Their All Star, 2X Batting Champ Catcher has been out, coming back Friday against the Royals {anticipatory giggling}. The rotation, also young, has been garbage except for the #5 pitcher; this can be expected to get better. So, we have accumulated these numbers: RS: 85; RA: 113 which should give us the diametric opposite of Dodger-lation: an 8-13 record. What have we actually managed to do? 10-11, with a chance at .500 against Scott Kazmir tonight (not likely, I know, but why can't the good times roll?). The culprit? Being 4-0 in 1-run games. {guilty chuckle}. The Twins hereby thank the world for allowing them to miraculously and inexplicably not trash their season already, and hope you will not mind when we go on another ridiculous run in August-September to steal the division from some much more "expected" (i.e., deserving) winner.
Today's contemplation: Runs Scored and Runs Scored Againts. Now, the teams I root for: MN Twins (Land of My Heritage) in the AL and LA Dodgers (Land of My Birth) in the NL are a giving me very different feelings in my tummy.
The Dodgers have been on a tear. Everything is right. Manny Ramirez is "being Manny" to the tune of beating the living crud out of the ball (Boston, we thank thee). The young starters are doing things that make me giddy. And is all of the exuberance something we can continue to count on or should we trap our happiness in a jar and look at it longingly in July? Apparently, contrary to this man's existence, plan on repeated euphoria Dodgertown: our Runs Scored: 119; Runs Allowed: 82; Expected Win-Loss Record: 14-7. Actual Win-Loss Record: 14-7.
On the other hand, the Minnesota Twins. Now, the Twins have been having a lot of problems. Their All Star, 2X Batting Champ Catcher has been out, coming back Friday against the Royals {anticipatory giggling}. The rotation, also young, has been garbage except for the #5 pitcher; this can be expected to get better. So, we have accumulated these numbers: RS: 85; RA: 113 which should give us the diametric opposite of Dodger-lation: an 8-13 record. What have we actually managed to do? 10-11, with a chance at .500 against Scott Kazmir tonight (not likely, I know, but why can't the good times roll?). The culprit? Being 4-0 in 1-run games. {guilty chuckle}. The Twins hereby thank the world for allowing them to miraculously and inexplicably not trash their season already, and hope you will not mind when we go on another ridiculous run in August-September to steal the division from some much more "expected" (i.e., deserving) winner.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Next Year, We Can't Miss This
Why didn't I find out about the annual Grilled Cheese Invitational, which is held in L.A., until too late? Probably because God is looking out for my cholesterol levels. But next year . . . .
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Snow Today
White felt flakes
feather the floor
with faerie down;
shimmering swirl of
moon mutes townly
murmur and hum;
tongue gone numb lungs
gasp in gaseous
iceblurred
parachuting prisms.
Art's dream is Nature's wish
and every sense knows
the promise that
if left long enough
in the blanketing first fall
still silence.
feather the floor
with faerie down;
shimmering swirl of
moon mutes townly
murmur and hum;
tongue gone numb lungs
gasp in gaseous
iceblurred
parachuting prisms.
Art's dream is Nature's wish
and every sense knows
the promise that
if left long enough
in the blanketing first fall
still silence.
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