Not much posting...
because I've been putting my writing energies into college recommendations. I will say now that I appreciate envelopes that do not require being licked, and I do check to make sure I have correct postage. I've gotten a surprising number of envelopes with 39 cent stamps on them. No worries. I've still got lots of 2's left over from Bat Mitzvah time (we missed the deadline for 39 cents by 48 hours).
Things should be back to normal by next week.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Pay attention and do what you're doing
Let me start by admitting that there is nothing inherently interesting about a math class. Some people will find it interesting, some people won't, no matter how fascinating the teacher finds it. So why pay attention? You can always ask your friends later or meet with the teacher or figure it out yourself as you study for tests.
There's a simple reason. You should pay attention in math class because that's what you're doing right then. Just like you should pay attention to whatever you're doing. One of my biggest worries for kids growing up these days is that they're in a near-constant state of distraction. It's now almost impossible for kids to do just one thing at a time, and I think that's bad for them. I think I speak knowledgeably about this, because when I was just out of college I would come home from work and do the following:
Do you think I was getting maximum enjoyment out of any of those things? Of course not. No matter how skilled a multitasker you are, the brain cannot devote full attention to more than one thing at a time. Now just because it sounds funny doesn't necessarily make it bad, but I truly believe that my life became much richer when I learned to do only one thing at a time.
The current term for this is "being in the moment." You hear it mostly from self-help types and oddly enough, professional athletes, who know that to perform at peak level they have to be concentrating on what they're doing and nothing else. "Being in the moment" sounds kind of new ageish, so I prefer "Do the thing you're doing." Aside from allowing you to be better at whatever you're engaged in, you'll find that it actually feels good. It's calming.
So I don't think that the kind of paying attention you need to do in math class is any more important than any other kind. In fact, I'd say it's much more important to truly pay attention and listen to your friends and loved ones.
I'd be interested to hear from anyone who has tried this or is interested in trying it now.
Let me start by admitting that there is nothing inherently interesting about a math class. Some people will find it interesting, some people won't, no matter how fascinating the teacher finds it. So why pay attention? You can always ask your friends later or meet with the teacher or figure it out yourself as you study for tests.
There's a simple reason. You should pay attention in math class because that's what you're doing right then. Just like you should pay attention to whatever you're doing. One of my biggest worries for kids growing up these days is that they're in a near-constant state of distraction. It's now almost impossible for kids to do just one thing at a time, and I think that's bad for them. I think I speak knowledgeably about this, because when I was just out of college I would come home from work and do the following:
- Put music on the stereo
- Turn on the TV with the sound off
- Read the newspaper
- Eat dinner
Do you think I was getting maximum enjoyment out of any of those things? Of course not. No matter how skilled a multitasker you are, the brain cannot devote full attention to more than one thing at a time. Now just because it sounds funny doesn't necessarily make it bad, but I truly believe that my life became much richer when I learned to do only one thing at a time.
The current term for this is "being in the moment." You hear it mostly from self-help types and oddly enough, professional athletes, who know that to perform at peak level they have to be concentrating on what they're doing and nothing else. "Being in the moment" sounds kind of new ageish, so I prefer "Do the thing you're doing." Aside from allowing you to be better at whatever you're engaged in, you'll find that it actually feels good. It's calming.
So I don't think that the kind of paying attention you need to do in math class is any more important than any other kind. In fact, I'd say it's much more important to truly pay attention and listen to your friends and loved ones.
I'd be interested to hear from anyone who has tried this or is interested in trying it now.
Very strange
I actually have quite a bit to say today, but I just saw this ad in the newspaper that was so odd I had to point it out.
I wonder if they told that woman what she would actually be standing next to (assuming, of course that this is a photoshopped image, which I can't know for sure).
If you can't see the image, click to the left of the text and it'll show up.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
The Midweek Fog
Ever had a day where you took a nap and then never felt quite wide awake again? That's today for me. Just got back from Party Land, which is absolutely the best place to go when you're in a daze. I managed to resist the temptation to buy all the Hannah Montana birthday party paraphernalia.
After having one short week after another, it's hard to get accustomed to a real school schedule. It is kind of fun to listen to kids plead not to have homework and then give them homework anyway, but sadistic pleasures aside it's a lot of work for everyone. My older daughter said she wants to go to a really good college but is afraid it'll be too hard and too much work, and I assured her that, compared to high school, college is a walk in the park, at least as far as day-today workload. Plus it has the obvious advantage that you don't have to worry at that point about getting into college because you're already there!
It's fun to write when you're in a haze.
I have a new word. I heard someone on the radio say that their sports team needs to act with some arrogancy. I like it. I also got to hear a whole series of calls where people said they were tired about hearing about the Yankees and the Red Sox. These calls are inherently boring, so I'm going to call to say that I'm tired of hearing about how tired people are of the3se other calls. Maybe if a few of my friends join me, people will start to call and say they're tired of us calling about how tired we are of people saying they're tired of something. Whew!
I must quote the best line I've seen about the baseball series. A lot of the discussion today was about how Manny Ramirez of the Red Sox did a little celebration after he hit a home run that brought his team to only 4 runs behind. Here's a quote from a column on ESPN.com:
Ever had a day where you took a nap and then never felt quite wide awake again? That's today for me. Just got back from Party Land, which is absolutely the best place to go when you're in a daze. I managed to resist the temptation to buy all the Hannah Montana birthday party paraphernalia.
After having one short week after another, it's hard to get accustomed to a real school schedule. It is kind of fun to listen to kids plead not to have homework and then give them homework anyway, but sadistic pleasures aside it's a lot of work for everyone. My older daughter said she wants to go to a really good college but is afraid it'll be too hard and too much work, and I assured her that, compared to high school, college is a walk in the park, at least as far as day-today workload. Plus it has the obvious advantage that you don't have to worry at that point about getting into college because you're already there!
It's fun to write when you're in a haze.
I have a new word. I heard someone on the radio say that their sports team needs to act with some arrogancy. I like it. I also got to hear a whole series of calls where people said they were tired about hearing about the Yankees and the Red Sox. These calls are inherently boring, so I'm going to call to say that I'm tired of hearing about how tired people are of the3se other calls. Maybe if a few of my friends join me, people will start to call and say they're tired of us calling about how tired we are of people saying they're tired of something. Whew!
I must quote the best line I've seen about the baseball series. A lot of the discussion today was about how Manny Ramirez of the Red Sox did a little celebration after he hit a home run that brought his team to only 4 runs behind. Here's a quote from a column on ESPN.com:
Mark from Philly offers an inspiring defense for Manny's home run preening: "When Manny went deep, my first thought was, 'Quit posing, Manny, we're still down 7-3.' Then it dawned on me that Manny probably had no idea what the score was. In fact, he probably isn't aware that baseball games are determined by which team scores more runs. Manny's only point of differentiation comes when, after hitting a home run, he sees his teammates waiting for him at home plate -- it's at that point he knows it's time to party.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Making Decisions
What do you do when you can't make up your mind? Today my daughter had a soccer game in the morning and her school had an open house where she was supposed to be a tour guide in the early afternoon. We could get there, but late. She had in her possession two letters from the person running the program. One said that it was essential to be on time and the other said that if you could come after your game it would be great because we need you. She wasn't sure which to do, so I had her use my favorite decision-making tool- assume you're going to screw up and decide which mistake you'd rather make. Would you rather show up and have them not need you or not show up and have them need you? It made it an easy decision to decide she should go.
I actually learned this in business school, though there are plenty of people (those born with what they call "common sense") who figure it out for themselves. Which mistake would you regret less?
For what it's worth, I always found this a powerful argument against the death penalty.
What do you do when you can't make up your mind? Today my daughter had a soccer game in the morning and her school had an open house where she was supposed to be a tour guide in the early afternoon. We could get there, but late. She had in her possession two letters from the person running the program. One said that it was essential to be on time and the other said that if you could come after your game it would be great because we need you. She wasn't sure which to do, so I had her use my favorite decision-making tool- assume you're going to screw up and decide which mistake you'd rather make. Would you rather show up and have them not need you or not show up and have them need you? It made it an easy decision to decide she should go.
I actually learned this in business school, though there are plenty of people (those born with what they call "common sense") who figure it out for themselves. Which mistake would you regret less?
For what it's worth, I always found this a powerful argument against the death penalty.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Freaky Friday
Today was certainly an unusual school day. I guess the power went off around 10:15. I was teaching in the Art Room, with the lights off as usual. And of course there's no clock in there either. Since the bells have been totally unreliable, it was no surprise that that there wasn't a sound at 10:15, but then we heard all the yelling out in the hallway. We had no idea what was going on, so we looked into the lunch room and saw all the lights were out. I have no idea when they go power back on. I hope it was soon, because I left a tuna sandwich in the refrigerator.
So I wanted to write more about music. I've been known in the past to show some disdain for what the kids call music these days. It's not that it's bad. It's boring. Who's really good out there? Beyonce? All her songs have exactly the same beat, the same beat almost every song has now. And she's probably the best of the lot. All the rest of the top 20 songs have one of the following messages:
The flip side of this is that there's a tremendous surge of great indy music out there, because it's become so easy to make and distribute a CD. Do yourself a favor and listen to bands like The Hair the TV the Baby and the Band, The New Pornographers (my personal favorite), Rilo Kelly, TV on the Radio, Tegan and Sara, Fountains of Wayne, or The Go! Team. Or, if you have the bucks, drop a couple of thousand for the Hannah Montana show. Floor seats are on StubHub starting at $507 and topping out at $3334. For 12th row! Row 21 in Atlantic City is $3570. I wonder what a first row seat would be worth? Your best bet is to fly to Kansas City, where you can score two 9th row tickets for $650 per.
Allow me to wax nostalgic for a moment. When I lived in New York in the early 80's, all the concerts were promoted by a guy named Ron Delsener. He had a club where you paid a couple of hundred dollars a year in exchange for the right to reserve the absolute best tickets to every concert he had, which was every important show in NYC and Long Island. You'd go to his office on East 67th street and pick up the tickets from Ron's sister Harriet. The worst seats I ever got from there was 11th row floor.
But my favorite were his concerts on the Hudson River Pier, just south of where the Intrepid was (is it back yet?). These were general admission, and they'd have a riot if they let the club members go in the main gate before the long line, so they had an ingenious solution. For crowd control purposes, you entered on the street side of the pier (obviously), walked down through a fenced in area for about 100 yards to the end of the pier, then turned a corner and came back toward the street end, where the stage was. Club member had a special gate where we didn't have to walk through that area. We just entered right next to the stage. So we could stroll in, take our seats wherever we pleased, then sit and watch the others run, push and scramble (this was New York, after all) all the way down the pier and all the way back again. It was really fun, sort of like going through the E-Z Pass when there's a long line to pay the toll, except that at the end you saw a concert instead of driving on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.
Today was certainly an unusual school day. I guess the power went off around 10:15. I was teaching in the Art Room, with the lights off as usual. And of course there's no clock in there either. Since the bells have been totally unreliable, it was no surprise that that there wasn't a sound at 10:15, but then we heard all the yelling out in the hallway. We had no idea what was going on, so we looked into the lunch room and saw all the lights were out. I have no idea when they go power back on. I hope it was soon, because I left a tuna sandwich in the refrigerator.
So I wanted to write more about music. I've been known in the past to show some disdain for what the kids call music these days. It's not that it's bad. It's boring. Who's really good out there? Beyonce? All her songs have exactly the same beat, the same beat almost every song has now. And she's probably the best of the lot. All the rest of the top 20 songs have one of the following messages:
- You are good-looking
- I want to have sex with you
- You know you would enjoy having sex with me
- I'm good at sex
- You look like you would be fun to have sex with
The flip side of this is that there's a tremendous surge of great indy music out there, because it's become so easy to make and distribute a CD. Do yourself a favor and listen to bands like The Hair the TV the Baby and the Band, The New Pornographers (my personal favorite), Rilo Kelly, TV on the Radio, Tegan and Sara, Fountains of Wayne, or The Go! Team. Or, if you have the bucks, drop a couple of thousand for the Hannah Montana show. Floor seats are on StubHub starting at $507 and topping out at $3334. For 12th row! Row 21 in Atlantic City is $3570. I wonder what a first row seat would be worth? Your best bet is to fly to Kansas City, where you can score two 9th row tickets for $650 per.
Allow me to wax nostalgic for a moment. When I lived in New York in the early 80's, all the concerts were promoted by a guy named Ron Delsener. He had a club where you paid a couple of hundred dollars a year in exchange for the right to reserve the absolute best tickets to every concert he had, which was every important show in NYC and Long Island. You'd go to his office on East 67th street and pick up the tickets from Ron's sister Harriet. The worst seats I ever got from there was 11th row floor.
But my favorite were his concerts on the Hudson River Pier, just south of where the Intrepid was (is it back yet?). These were general admission, and they'd have a riot if they let the club members go in the main gate before the long line, so they had an ingenious solution. For crowd control purposes, you entered on the street side of the pier (obviously), walked down through a fenced in area for about 100 yards to the end of the pier, then turned a corner and came back toward the street end, where the stage was. Club member had a special gate where we didn't have to walk through that area. We just entered right next to the stage. So we could stroll in, take our seats wherever we pleased, then sit and watch the others run, push and scramble (this was New York, after all) all the way down the pier and all the way back again. It was really fun, sort of like going through the E-Z Pass when there's a long line to pay the toll, except that at the end you saw a concert instead of driving on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
TeeVee
My daughter is watching Gossip Girls in the den. The Gossip Girl books marked a key point in our family saga because they were the first books that we wouldn't buy for our kids. They're really pretty disgusting, as is the TV show, but keep in mind that we did not forbid her to read them. We just wouldn't buy them for her, as we had bought every book she'd wanted since "Pat The Bunny." (Was that book about a bunny called Pat or about patting something in the book? My mind is going). So she bought them herself or went to the library or borrowed from friends. She soon went through The A list and TTYL and all that stuff, and we never have to buy books for her anymore, because she only willing reads trash. I used to think about how much she's missing out on, but then I remember that I never read anything I didn't have to from ages 15-21, and somehow my brain didn't turn to mush, just like I never put my eye out or plunged to my death because all my friends were jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge.
I don't read as much as I'd like to. I read a lot of political commentary on various blogs, and I read the newspapers, but I didn't finish the last book I started, called London Fields by Martin Amis, even though it's good and I've read two of his books before and really liked them. Aside from stuff about China, I haven't read a book since Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. That's a shame, I think. Reading can transport you in a way nothing else can, and you can look at a funny line and laugh over it over and over again, or savor the construction of a sentence or paragraph at your own pace, rather than the paced forced on you by a movie or a even a song. And I think that makes it more memorable and close to my heart.
Just to give you an idea of the kind of thing I'm talking about, here's the first two sentences of a short story by T.C. Boyle, author of the marvelous "The Road to Wellville," about a man whose wife is so intent on buying stuff of all sorts that it overwhelms their life. It's called "Filthy With Things."
He dreams, amidst the clutter, of sparseness, purity, the wheeling dark star-haunted reaches where distances are measured in light years and even the galaxies fall away to nothing. But dreams get you nowhere, and Marsha's latest purchase, the figured mahogany highboy with carved likenesses of Jefferson, Washington and Adams in place of pulls, will not fit in the garage.
It's not really apropos of anything, beyond the usual stuff about Americans having too much stuff, but there's no other storytelling medium that can give you such richness in so little space and time.
My daughter is watching Gossip Girls in the den. The Gossip Girl books marked a key point in our family saga because they were the first books that we wouldn't buy for our kids. They're really pretty disgusting, as is the TV show, but keep in mind that we did not forbid her to read them. We just wouldn't buy them for her, as we had bought every book she'd wanted since "Pat The Bunny." (Was that book about a bunny called Pat or about patting something in the book? My mind is going). So she bought them herself or went to the library or borrowed from friends. She soon went through The A list and TTYL and all that stuff, and we never have to buy books for her anymore, because she only willing reads trash. I used to think about how much she's missing out on, but then I remember that I never read anything I didn't have to from ages 15-21, and somehow my brain didn't turn to mush, just like I never put my eye out or plunged to my death because all my friends were jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge.
I don't read as much as I'd like to. I read a lot of political commentary on various blogs, and I read the newspapers, but I didn't finish the last book I started, called London Fields by Martin Amis, even though it's good and I've read two of his books before and really liked them. Aside from stuff about China, I haven't read a book since Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. That's a shame, I think. Reading can transport you in a way nothing else can, and you can look at a funny line and laugh over it over and over again, or savor the construction of a sentence or paragraph at your own pace, rather than the paced forced on you by a movie or a even a song. And I think that makes it more memorable and close to my heart.
Just to give you an idea of the kind of thing I'm talking about, here's the first two sentences of a short story by T.C. Boyle, author of the marvelous "The Road to Wellville," about a man whose wife is so intent on buying stuff of all sorts that it overwhelms their life. It's called "Filthy With Things."
He dreams, amidst the clutter, of sparseness, purity, the wheeling dark star-haunted reaches where distances are measured in light years and even the galaxies fall away to nothing. But dreams get you nowhere, and Marsha's latest purchase, the figured mahogany highboy with carved likenesses of Jefferson, Washington and Adams in place of pulls, will not fit in the garage.
It's not really apropos of anything, beyond the usual stuff about Americans having too much stuff, but there's no other storytelling medium that can give you such richness in so little space and time.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
American Culture
Since I wasn't feeling quite cultured enough after King Lear, I decided to take in the "So You Think You Can Dance" live show tonight. There weren't very many adults there, and it was one of those nights when the Wachovia Center turns half the Men's Rooms in Ladies Rooms. And it's a good thing I don't have the upper range of my hearing any more, because the amount of high-pitched shrieking was something to behold. There was a pair of 10 year-olds to my right who were fond of a girl named Jamie and several thousand who were fond of a blonde guy named Neil. They made noises that I could not conceive of making. It wasn't quite as loud as the Justin Timberlake concert, but it was close.
Compared to a real dance company, of which I've seen many, the dancing really isn't very good and the choreography by "Emmy winning choreographer whoever" is pretty simple and obvious, but there was a championship ballroom pair who were superb and a few other peices were fun to watch. The dancers really give their all and seem to be having a good time, which is good because dancing's a pretty tough career and this may be the best gig some of them ever have.
All in all, it was good clean fun, just with $35 t-shirts.
P.S. Did anyone watch that buggy Yankees-Indians baseball game? How weird was that? My favorite moment, though, was Bobby Abreu walking up for his first at bat, tapping his bat on home plate and having it shatter, leaving him with about a 6 inch stump in his hand. He gives the umpire a "did you see that?" look and then cracks up.
Since I wasn't feeling quite cultured enough after King Lear, I decided to take in the "So You Think You Can Dance" live show tonight. There weren't very many adults there, and it was one of those nights when the Wachovia Center turns half the Men's Rooms in Ladies Rooms. And it's a good thing I don't have the upper range of my hearing any more, because the amount of high-pitched shrieking was something to behold. There was a pair of 10 year-olds to my right who were fond of a girl named Jamie and several thousand who were fond of a blonde guy named Neil. They made noises that I could not conceive of making. It wasn't quite as loud as the Justin Timberlake concert, but it was close.
Compared to a real dance company, of which I've seen many, the dancing really isn't very good and the choreography by "Emmy winning choreographer whoever" is pretty simple and obvious, but there was a championship ballroom pair who were superb and a few other peices were fun to watch. The dancers really give their all and seem to be having a good time, which is good because dancing's a pretty tough career and this may be the best gig some of them ever have.
All in all, it was good clean fun, just with $35 t-shirts.
P.S. Did anyone watch that buggy Yankees-Indians baseball game? How weird was that? My favorite moment, though, was Bobby Abreu walking up for his first at bat, tapping his bat on home plate and having it shatter, leaving him with about a 6 inch stump in his hand. He gives the umpire a "did you see that?" look and then cracks up.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Brain Dump
Going back to last weekend, King Lear was unforgettable. I find myself wondering how anybody could write such a thing. There are so many brilliant lines (including Fi fie fo fum, I smell the blood of an English man from Jack and the Beanstalk) flying by that it's difficult to keep track, and the intersection of love and cruelty and faithfulness and treachery is almost unimaginable. I saw Lear when I was around 15, with Lee J. Cobb as Lear. What I remember most was that the character Gloucester has his name inexplicably pronounced Gloster, and that said Gloucester gets his eyes torn out. Again, how does someone think of having a character yell "Out vile jelly!" and then tear someone's eye out? This isn't based on a historical event, it's pure fiction. Of course, the version I saw didn't have Lear strip naked. This version did, much to the surprise of my daughters.I was also surprised by how funny it is in parts, though it doesn't sound funny in the retelling.
As for the Phillies, it's hard to say anything beyond "Well, that's sports!" As bad as getting swept by Colorado was, I wouldn't have given up the moment they clinched the NL East for anything. I've seen the final game of 4 World Series in New York, 3 wins and one loss (ask me about the 1977 Series). The wins are, of course, more fun. But as my daughter said on Thursday, "They're cheering for a groundout!" You just can't get that kind of thing any other time of year. Baseball is a game of failure and suffering and waiting and exhilaration. That's probably why the Jews like it so much.
Finally, I got a letter from a woman I know in Oakland who is the sister of one of my best friends from college, who died of a brain tumor 5 years ago (though it doesn't feel nearly so long). She found a letter that I'd sent him in 1979, after a cross-country train trip. A couple of things really caught my eye. First, I was very surprised how much I sound like me. I mean, I've grown up and changed a lot since 1979, at least I hope I have. Here's a passage: Right now I'm in Westchester County Courthouse, attempting to disqualify myself from jury duty, since I no longer live in Westchester. It could be fun, actually, but I've gotta look for a job now, and I can't afford 2 weeks worrying about the proper administration of justice and all that crap.
Second, there's a P.S. saying I'd gotten accepted to Wharton. So my life took a big change in course after May 4, 1979.
I really miss my friend Richard. He was a world-class procrastinator and never really did "accomplish" much in his life, but he was as true a friend as one could hope to have to me and a number of others, and one of the most decent people I've ever met. He also introduced me to Bruce Springsteen back in 1974 and he was my companion for my first (of 5) cross-country camping trips. He was also a big Phillies fan, and I sure would have liked to have seen that Sunday game with him.
Going back to last weekend, King Lear was unforgettable. I find myself wondering how anybody could write such a thing. There are so many brilliant lines (including Fi fie fo fum, I smell the blood of an English man from Jack and the Beanstalk) flying by that it's difficult to keep track, and the intersection of love and cruelty and faithfulness and treachery is almost unimaginable. I saw Lear when I was around 15, with Lee J. Cobb as Lear. What I remember most was that the character Gloucester has his name inexplicably pronounced Gloster, and that said Gloucester gets his eyes torn out. Again, how does someone think of having a character yell "Out vile jelly!" and then tear someone's eye out? This isn't based on a historical event, it's pure fiction. Of course, the version I saw didn't have Lear strip naked. This version did, much to the surprise of my daughters.I was also surprised by how funny it is in parts, though it doesn't sound funny in the retelling.
As for the Phillies, it's hard to say anything beyond "Well, that's sports!" As bad as getting swept by Colorado was, I wouldn't have given up the moment they clinched the NL East for anything. I've seen the final game of 4 World Series in New York, 3 wins and one loss (ask me about the 1977 Series). The wins are, of course, more fun. But as my daughter said on Thursday, "They're cheering for a groundout!" You just can't get that kind of thing any other time of year. Baseball is a game of failure and suffering and waiting and exhilaration. That's probably why the Jews like it so much.
Finally, I got a letter from a woman I know in Oakland who is the sister of one of my best friends from college, who died of a brain tumor 5 years ago (though it doesn't feel nearly so long). She found a letter that I'd sent him in 1979, after a cross-country train trip. A couple of things really caught my eye. First, I was very surprised how much I sound like me. I mean, I've grown up and changed a lot since 1979, at least I hope I have. Here's a passage: Right now I'm in Westchester County Courthouse, attempting to disqualify myself from jury duty, since I no longer live in Westchester. It could be fun, actually, but I've gotta look for a job now, and I can't afford 2 weeks worrying about the proper administration of justice and all that crap.
Second, there's a P.S. saying I'd gotten accepted to Wharton. So my life took a big change in course after May 4, 1979.
I really miss my friend Richard. He was a world-class procrastinator and never really did "accomplish" much in his life, but he was as true a friend as one could hope to have to me and a number of others, and one of the most decent people I've ever met. He also introduced me to Bruce Springsteen back in 1974 and he was my companion for my first (of 5) cross-country camping trips. He was also a big Phillies fan, and I sure would have liked to have seen that Sunday game with him.
Monday, October 01, 2007
You've gotta love baseball
Padres and Rockies have identical records for 162 games over 6 months. Now they play one game to break the tie and they're still tied after 8 innings. I guess they're pretty evenly matched. I'm rooting for the Padres only because I think they are a less formidable foe for the Phils, but I think a Rockies-Phillies series would be great fun.
Padres and Rockies have identical records for 162 games over 6 months. Now they play one game to break the tie and they're still tied after 8 innings. I guess they're pretty evenly matched. I'm rooting for the Padres only because I think they are a less formidable foe for the Phils, but I think a Rockies-Phillies series would be great fun.
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