Seasons change with the scenery

look-sunsetI was in Glen Burnie yesterday and had lunch at Gino’s. If you are a Baltimore kid like me, you’ll understand the significance of this; this was my first time in a Gino’s in – I’m not kidding – 40 years or so. Growing up in Baltimore, even in the nearby ‘burbs as I was, you were a McDonald’s kid or a Gino’s kid. (Yeah, there was Burger Chef, too, but somehow they were never really part of the debate in the playground.) I was definitely a Gino’s kid. It just felt right to be so, even when I didn’t fully understand that McDonald’s was the interloper in our city, while the other burger joint was the enterprise of Gino Marchetti, who played for the Colts before my time. The new Gino’s is more like Cheeburger Cheeburger than McD’s – the food is to order, they have specialty milkshakes, and they play oldies while you eat – but that was fine by me: it was good food, there was Old Bay and malt vinegar on the table, and I was at Gino’s again and just basking in the nostalgia. Continue reading

National disaster

whatGranted the Orioles are not yet a “good” team, but there is some hope on the horizon, in the form of some refreshing young talent.  There is also the shining example of exactly how bad it can really get, and it is very conveniently located just down the road from us in a town which has always been smug about its supposed superiority to Baltimore.  It is therapy and schadenfreude all in one package, and its name is the Washington Nationals.

Exactly how bad it really is in the city where I now work, as opposed to my “home” city of Baltimore, was brought home in no uncertain terms today.  The Examiner, a franchised daily, flogged the Nationals on the very front page of its local edition today in a full page ad.  Ryan Zimmerman, the Nats’ talented (and quite lonely in that respect) 3rd baseman, was in the ad.  The other two figures shown, and I am absolutely not kidding when I say this, were the Nats’ eagle-headed costumed mascot, and…the guy who cruises around in a Segway between innings, firing t-shirts into the crowd with a compressed air cannon.

That was it.  Literally.  Those were the selling points for professional baseball in the nation’s capital.  Oh, and the mascot was in the middle, and was portrayed the largest of the three – the obvious main draw.  I hope I didn’t drool from my mouth gaping like that when I saw it and realized they were trying to sell tickets for the team.

Whew.  Thank God I’m a country boy, indeed.

April Madness

Well, let’s take a look at the news.  Starbucks is selling crack, Jonah Goldberg flies to Mars in his pajamas, and the Orioles are in first place.

No, wait.  One of those stories is real.  Double-you-tee-eff, over.

The O’s were the guests of the Texas Rangers last night in a scenario that must have been the invention of some cruel ESPN-addled crack baby servant of Bud “Darth” Selig.  Brian Burres was the starter for last year’s last meeting between these two teams, which ended in a beheading of epic proportions: the historic 30-3 shellacking at the Yards.  This was a re-do, complete with the same exact pitcher, only moving it to Arlington, Texas for the Rangers’ home opener.  And if anything, the O’s on paper are a worse team.

So of course what should happen but Burres goes six innings scattering seven hits for one solitary run, and the Orioles lay an 8-1 licking on the Rangers for their sixth straight win following their own opening day loss.  It’s loopy, unadulterated madness, and no, it can’t last…but I do intend to savor it for the time being.  Perhaps even moreso than the quick start, it’s also heartening to see them start to develop some personality as a team – playing with the old song “Orioles Magic” in the clubhouse and making light of Aubrey Huff’s off-season disparaging of Baltimore.

The Yards has a fancy new screen for showing the usual replays and such, but I’m told by reliable sources that they only use it to scan the crowd between innings.  We need a good animation or clip to play, one that fits this madness.  I say we use the clip from the movie 300, fresh off the *chans – ‘shop the cap of the opposing team onto the messenger as he stands at the edge of the well in front of Leonidas.  “This is blasphemy!  This is madness!”  “Madness…?  THIS – IS – BALTIMORE!!”  *boot*

Whateverthehell, it’s got to be better than that damned rally monkey.

…and beyond the United Nations

I’ve decided that when I grow up, I want to be a member of Torchwood.  I want to meet alien menaces that fall into two categories: rather slimy and gross, or unbelievable female knockouts built for sex.  My compatriots and I, all of whom are bisexual, will shoot the first and shag the second.  (There are in fact the occasional male knockouts, and I suppose I’d shag them too, being all egalitarian and such.  The peer pressure not to would be unbelievable.)  Then we’d pal around Cardiff and shoot or shag each other – I’ll opt for the second, given my druthers.

I imagine Cardiff, given the stigma surrounding it, which manifests in the “it really ain’t that bad” vibe around it and their making-of specials, to be like Baltimore or Philadelphia.  In fact, I could be the Jack Harkness of Torchwood Five in Baltimore.  I’ll need to get a long black coat, and some way of getting to the top of the Shot Tower or something so I can pose.

Honestly, I do like the show, and need to see season two at some point.   It gave me an idea not too long ago (or at least developed it a great deal) for a trio of paranormal-hunting characters who live as a polyamorous triad – the central male was a real Larry Stu – as the anchor of a Torchwood-like team, but I haven’t really gone anywhere with it.  Which is probably for the best.

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started