Yesterday, It Was a Good Day

Fortunately for our niece, 1900 (I have made an executive decision to change her name from 'BTF' to '1900' for the purposes of this blog and, maybe, also in real life; if you know her name, you should be able to figure out why (hint: it has nothing to do when she was born)), the Red Sox won another World Series yesterday. Now she doesn't have to go through life worried that they won one right before she was born, then never won one in her lifetime (like people born in 1919, or late 1918, even). Although I'm not sure she realized what happened (um, actually, I'm pretty positive she doesn't realize what happened, she's like 3 days old), she was in the spirit for the celebration, courtesy of a gift from Auntie S-t-Y.

For the record, I think S.I.L.K. is not a Red Sox fan; I think once she said that she was a Seibu Lions (of Japanese baseball) fan. I'm not sure how far B-t-O has gotten in convincing her to get with the Sox, but since Seibu is where Daisuke Matsuzaka played before he came stateside, hopefully she was an easy sell. Fortunately for me, Kimberly had no affiliations before she met me (people in Oregon aren't really Mariners fans for some reason. And it's really hard to root for the Mariners; trust me, I tried for a year and it was really hard (*cough* fair weather fans *cough*)) so I could mold her to my liking much more easily.

That's nice

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!

The Red Sox did it again, winning the World Series last night for the second time in 4 years.

While no less satisfying, this one felt much different than 2004. That year, I think I blacked out during the last out while screaming in some random bar in Seattle (where, oddly, I was completely surrounded by Boston accents). This year, the final inning was more of a formality than anything. There was one tense moment, when it looked like a light hitting shortstop would ruin it, but Kimberly's new boyfriend, Jacoby Ellsbury (the pride of Madras and Navajo Nation), erased that with relative ease.

Up there, that's the Red Sox Japanese contingent. Matsuzaka-san (Kimberly's other Red Sox boyfriend) on the right, pitched well, but it was that one scene of Ortiz putting gum on his hat, then their wacky handshake/bow that really stood out. And on the left, Okajimi-san, who, in my opinion, was the Red Sox MVP this year. Especially considering he came over to keep Matsuzaka company. He was lights out all year, only faltering when he was obviously out of gas after being overworked in the World Series.

I have to admit that I was a little scared of the Rockies, even telling one of my friends I thought the series would go to 7 games. But boy was I wrong. The Sox dominated from start to finish.

I'm a little sad I'll miss the victory parade this time, but it's just not possible to make it back to Boston on such short notice, especially with another trip looming at the end of the week. I hope everyone back east enjoys the celebration.

And a helpful hint, falling off a traffic light is probably not the best way to celebrate winning (I hope this kid is alright):


(photos from Boston.com)

This Looks Like Fun

Nine years ago, the Red Sox made the playoffs for the first time in a long time behind Pedro, John Valentin, Troy O'Leary, and Nomar. They won the first series against the Indians (behind a crazy pitching performance from Pedro) and were facing the Yankees for the American League Pennant.

Since this was the first time I understood the Sox were good (although I have memories of 1986 and that tragedy, I was only 8 at the time, and didn't really understand), me and my friend Van drove down from Vermont for game 3. We had the naive plan that we would just walk up to the ticket booth and get tickets for the game. Ha!

When we got to Fenway, there was a buzz, even though the game didn't start til the next day. We wandered around, not really sure what to do, when a radio reporter approached us (I think he was from BU, which potentially means he was from NPR (since BU is the carrier for NPR in Boston)) and asked us where we were from, how excited we were, and how much we were willing to spend on tickets. Being fairly poor college kids, we said $50, like that was a lot of money. The reporter audibly guffawed.

On the day of the game, we got up at like 4, and got a ride into Fenway; we were going to be first in line!

When we showed up, the line was already long. Really long. Pedro was scheduled to pitch against Roger Clemens.

We hung out, bs-ing with the other people in line. Eventually, I think around 10, the ticket office opened. We really weren't sure if there would be enough tickets for us. We certainly knew we wouldn't be able to afford scalper tickets.

As we approached the front, they started cutting people off from the line, as the tickets were getting low. They stopped the line maybe 10 people in front of us, and we were sad. But then a few minutes later, they opened up again. We inched forward, hoping we would get past the ticket bouncer.

As we timidly passed him, we were elated. Then he put up the hand to the people behind us. We were the last ones in.

When we got the ticket booth, there was a weird pause, like we weren't sure what to ask for. I mean it was pretty obvious why we were there, right? So finally, we asked if there were any more tickets.

'Well, we have 4 left, but they're standing room, obstructed view. $50.'

I don't know if it is possible to answer 'we'll take em' any faster.

This was game 3 of a 7 game series, which the Sox were down 2-0 (they eventually lost 4-1). But this was the ultimate game. Pedro and Clemens at the top of their games. Fenway was rocking the way only old, cramped, smelly, uncomfortable stadiums can. The fragile steel beams were shaking with every chant of "Rog-er, Rog-er, Rog-er" and with every Pedro strikeout. When Valentin (or maybe O'Leary) hit a grand slam, the place went insane.

Eventually, Roger was chased from the game, Pedro pitched maybe 6 innings of good ball, and the Red Sox cruised to an easy victory, their only one in the series.

Whenever I watch a Sox game like last night's, or all those crazy playoff games in 2004, I remember Fenway that night, in all its crumbling, shaking, green beauty.

One of these years, it would be nice to go to one of these series clinching games, where the players spray champagne on you after the ninth inning and people don't want to go home. With the rapidly escalating cost of tickets, and increasing rabid-ity of Sox fans, this may be getting more and more impossible with each passing year.

But really, that looks like fun. And I was able to experience it once 8 years ago.

(photo copied from Boston.com)

Things I'm looking for...

at the grocery store
sundried tomatoes
couscous
frozen edamame
lettuce without brown spots
fish- any type that's not in "stick" form
spicy salsa
spicy anything would be nice
nice olives
crusty bread

in the boxes in our closets
bird feeder (where are you?)
bbq chimney (we have the bbq- but where did the chimney go?)
my brown sweater

in ames
sushi?
ethiopian?
a mountain

in life
an extra 40 hours each week (pretty please?)
my checkbook (I've seen it since we moved, but where did it go?)

seriously- if you have any thoughts about where I might find these things... let me know

Art on a Stick Not Contained Within

My mother came to visit this past weekend on her way home from visiting my niece. We're still fairly new to this part of the country, so we went exploring new places together. We visited our local downtown and the University. And we found some pretty good local restaurants.

On Saturday, with Kimberly stuck in the office studying, me and my mom went to Des Moines, where the World Food Fest was being held. We ate some great ethnic food, including pupusas, tamales, and BBQ ribs, while wandering around the new up-and-coming East Village neighborhood (think Harvard Square 200 years ago, or the Pearl 20 years ago).

After eating our fill, we went to the Des Moines Art Center, which turned out to be wonderful. Located in one of the older neighborhoods in the city, the museum is set in a park with lots of outdoor installations.

The museum building itself is a fantastic space. I don't know much about architecture, but even I know the names Saarinen and I.M. Pei, who, along with Richard Meier (who is also apparently very famous), designed the three very distinct wings of the Art Center. It was a great environment to see some great art, particularly the Meier wing, which was full of natural light and superb art.

I know even less about art than about architecture, but I know I liked a lot of the art in the museum. I also know enough to recognize names like Hopper, Sargent, O'Keefe, and Rodin, all of whom have pieces on display. The art ranged from impressionist to contemporary, with a lot in between.

Obviously, as stand alone entities, the building and the art are amazing pieces of work. But the thing that most impressed me was that it seemed like the art and the buildings were designed with each other in mind. For this reason alone, the museum was a success.

We only were able to explore about half of the museum, so Kimberly and I will certainly have to go back, especially to explore the outdoor grounds.

And when you come to visit, we'll have something else to do besides go to the State Fair.

StoryCorps

Perhaps you remember that 2 years ago, PEter and I decided to host a big party, invite the people we love, and get married. Some days I can't believe it was only a few years ago.

One thing we did before we got married was participate in StoryCorps.

If you listen to NPR, you've probably heard about StoryCorp, a national project to record living history. People sign up to interview and the StoryCorp folks provide the technological assistance. You leave with a copy of your recording, the other copy added to the Library of Congress (which if you ever go to DC, you must visit!).

You can interview your mom, dad, next door neighbor, childhood friend, person you met yesterday... anyone you can think of for any reason you imagine.

I decided that one thing PEter and I could do in the crazy hustle and bustle of all the planning was to take a hour for ourselves and talk about where we were now and what the future might hold. It was a precious hour indeed. We have a wonderful recording of our first meeting, our thoughts about getting married, and our plans for the future.

If StoryCorps comes near you, I can't recommend highly enough participating.

Happy anniversary PEter.

The Silver Lining

I haven't found full time work here in Iowa just yet. And while it's great not having to work, my days are becoming more boring and I look forward to getting a job eventually.

However, there is a benefit to being unemployed this time of year: I get to watch the baseball playoffs in their entirety. Because baseball is played pretty much every day and each game takes almost 4 hours, they need to start the games in the middle of the day and play them all night.

The Red Sox start in 3 hours.

And by the Way...

Happy October.

Only 30 more days until Halloween.

The Most Interesting Post You Will Ever Read

So I just finished making and eating a turkey sandwich. It was on toasted wheat bread, with yellow cheddar (and yes, I melted the cheese).

Now, while that doesn't sound impressive, it is, in fact, very impressive for two reasons:

1. I used mayonnaise on the bread. Ever since 2000, when I became addicted to French fries (before they became Freedom fries) with mayonnaise while traveling through northern Europe, I've actively avoided using mayonnaise on my sandwiches. Apparently it's bad for you. Of course, this rule was suspended when eating tuna salad (tuna + mayonnaise + a splash of hot sauce + toasted wheat = one fantastic sandwich), but mustard had become my sandwich condiment of choice. I have to say, the turkey and mayonnaise paired really well. Let's see if this incident brings mayonnaise back into my life on a more permanent basis.
2. I finished a jar of pickles. In all honesty, when was the last time you actually finished a jar of pickles? If you go look in your fridge right now, way in the back, behind the baking soda and the unfinished jars of jam and mustard (which also never seem to get finished), you will find at least one jar of pickles with 3 pickles left soaking in their brine in the bottom. Most likely, they're dill, because, really, those bread & butter or gherkin pickles are gross. There's also probably an almost full jar in the door with the rest of the condiments. Why? Who knows.

I really feel like I accomplished something today. Now maybe I'll go take a nap.