So, it took me a month to formulate a new opinion?

I know I have been very derilect in my writing duties, but school, work, and my devotion to Spring Training are killing me nowadays. Maybe I will return next month. Moving on, a random observation.

You know what’s stupid? Kids who wear those army-type ball caps. Dude, I realize that you are a twentysomething who hates the machination of society or something, but the mere fact that you feel the need to wear that shows me that you care more about appearing like a revolutionary intellectual than actually, you know, thinking about stuff.

Escalating Conflict

You know, folks in this dog-eat-dog world need to embrace the little things in life that can provide a well-deserved breather.

I realized this today when I was in Library West on campus, proceeding up to the second story to use one of the (inexplicably often broken) water-free urinals on the second story. For those who avoid the library like the plague due to the masses of gabbing sorority chicks and braniacs, to get to the second story of the library one must first proceed up an escalator to get to the meat of the building.

It seems that whenever I’m making my way up these escalators, there’s always some toe-tapping kid behind me who takes exception to the fact that I remain sedentary on the escalators, waiting for the magical moving steps to whisk me up to the next level.

When this happens I feel sort of pressured to treat the escalator like an immobile staircase and climb it like some sort of health nut. Naturally, I do as I am tacitly expected, thus exerting myself – though unnecessarily – so that I can minimize any awkward feelings from the folks behind me.

Now, I’m not really overly concerned with the sacrifice of motion that I make for these people. What I’m most disturbed by is the fact that these people cannot fathom the notion of merely relaxing for ten seconds and letting the wonders of modern innovation make their lives a smidgen easier.

I think the world would be an infinitely better place if people would just accept any gift of mechanized relief that might arise in their path and take comfort in the wonders of the twenty first century.

Yet Another Post About Taco Bell

All right, it’s been about a month since I have complained to the Internet about something trivial that shouldn’t even cross my mind, so here we go. People need to learn how to say “Taco Bell.”

Taco Bell is delicious. And wildly inexpensive. Therefore, it is a popular food choice amongst my peers. However, many of them seem it necessary to put an extra emphasis on the “a” in “taco.”

Listen, folks. It’s just two words. Say, “taco.” Good. Now say, “bell.” All right, now put them together. There is the name of your eating establishment.

It’s not like we’re comparing bells. If I were to say, “Gee, I like the food at Burger Bell, not Taco Bell,” then such an emphasis on the first word would be necessary. But you know what? There is only one bell in my life and it will remain this way for at least the foreseeable future.

Now, if I could just teach people how to properly say “hotel” and “insurance.”

Dirty Laundry

You know, because I am in the Journalism school day in and day out despite my complete ignorance on the subject, I have come to grow fond of journalists. I am surrounded every day by notepad-wielding soldiers of the army of the written word. I guess more than anything, I respect them and their abilities of talking to complete strangers. Maybe if I could do that, I would be rolling in the ladies. Journalists are admirable, to be sure.

But I have also developed a pet peeve regarding the field. It used to be that when you would watch the news and something of great importance happened, they would cut away to an anchor who would tell us all about the “breaking news.”

Now, though, it seems that they have completely bastardized the phrase. Now, I can watch CNN for an hour in the morning and everything they’ve got for me is all of a sudden “breaking news.”

That group of elementary school children stacking cups for charity? “Breaking news.”
That lost dog from Florida that showed up in Canada a la Homeward Bound? “Breaking news.”
The Kansas City Royals suck? “Breaking news.” I think you get the point.

See, back when breaking news was rare and actually meant something, it was like a little treat during an otherwise bland and unexciting newscast. Now, however, they throw the term around like it’s a vowel, for God’s sake. Personally, I think that the term “breaking news” should have to meet three requirements:

First, someone’s gotta die. Yes, it is a sad reality, but when the news flips up “breaking news” about Sarah Palin adopting a polar bear or whatever it is she does, my heart flutters and then sinks. “Breaking news?” That’s hardly news!

Second, the newsworthy event has to be able to occur instantaneously or within a very short period of time. “Breaking news” that is merely an update on a developing story isn’t news. It’s a clarification of a prior news item and therefore terribly boring and lame.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, the event must not happen often. Listen, I don’t want a barrage of “breaking news” at all hours of the day. I think that “breaking news” should be limited to once a month at least. “Oh, the President of Mexico was killed by a flock of albatrosses? Sorry, we used our opportunity up last week. I knew we shouldn’t have run that story on packing peanuts!”

Maybe my cynicism is what’s kept me out of the major.

I much prefer bandwagon fans in the realm of sports

If you know me, you know of my traitorous opinion of my own major. I’m a political science major, but I work in the Journalism School. I hate the kids in my classes. And yes, I couldn’t stand the last election.

My political leanings aside, these past few months have been a complete burn on my patience. It seems that ever since two months ago, legions of folks who had little to no knowledge of or interest in politics suddenly came out in droves to support their candidates and strive to alienate anyone and everyone that disagreed with anything they said. If you don’t believe me, check the archives of the Alligator from the last few months. Politics really does bring out the worst in people.

But that is only half of my disgust with the entire process. Beginning on the day students came back for the Fall semester, there were countless political activists all over campus. First, it was whether or not I was registered to vote in Alachua County. Then, it was whether or not I was voting early. Then, it was whether I supported Senator Obama or Senator McCain.

Jesus Tapdancing Christ. It was so annoying. I couldn’t walk from class to class without being ceaselessly pestered multiple times. I know this sounds petty, but I’m sure that anyone who was on campus for these past few months will agree with me that it got a bit out of hand. I’m looking forward to getting back to dealing with Brother Micah telling me that I’m going to Hell and the Gideons giving out free Bibles.

Now that it’s over, though, I am elated to not have to deal with the sheep of both parties suddenly caring more about the direction of our country than they ever had. Now we can all concentrate on the most important things of the season: my birthday and football. Oh, how glorious it will be.

I kind of knew it was going to end this way.

Well, that was short-lived. About a week into our awesome hair-growing experiment Angus shaved, but didn’t have the guts to tell me he did this. I learned it by proxy from Bulgaria.

Weak, man. Weak.

POWW! Right in the kisser!

Okay, this is going to be my only post on this topic for two reasons. First, I hate politics and talking about them (perfect for a political science major, right?). Secondly, this topic is being covered extremely well at a multitude of other Web sites, like Aaron Sharockman’s blog at the St. Pete Times site.

But, here goes.

Recently, the Rays have proposed a new waterfront stadium in downtown St. Pete at the site of Al Lang Field, where innumerable baseball greats have played for almost a century. To me, this is an excellent thing. It will get rid of seriously outdated and ugly Tropicana Field and make St. Petersburg a popular destination again. However, there are quite a few dissidents to the idea. The movement against the idea of economic prosperity and all-around awesomeness that will arise from a new stadium is led by a certain group of old farts who will not be alive in a few years when the stadium becomes a reality who call themselves POWW (Preserve Our Wallets and Waterfront).

See, all of the members of POWW rely on misinformation and the art of crying loudest about the whole ordeal. Let’s look at some of the silly things they have to say:

They claim that building a new stadium would take money from the pockets of current residents of the county. It won’t. The Rays are fronting much of the money, and the remainder will be paid by existing hotel bed taxes that Pinellas residents do not pay and the sale and development of the land upon which Tropicana Field sits, which borders on slum land at present.

They claim that it is “too darn big.” To support this claim, they show us an image of how big the (awesome looking) stadium would be compared to the Bank of America building. Here it is (notice that there are absolutely no measurements nor sources on this image):

Now, look at a similar image I made, using their outline of the Bank of America building and a scale of 1 foot = 1 pixel (you will have to click to see this image full size):

Yes, it seems that in POWW’s image, the stadium is magically taller than in my measured and sourced image. Curious.

They claim that the whole new stadium would be a traffic and parking nightmare. It won’t be. The Rays have done copious studies and have discovered that there will be plenty of spaces around the stadium. And if we have to walk a few blocks to see the game, what of it? It’s Major League Baseball. Only 29 other cities in America have the privilege to watch this great sport, and I guarantee you that most of them require folks to walk a little bit to get to their stadiums. Lord. Quit your bellyaching, everyone.

As for traffic, has anyone thought that this new stadium will be only 15 blocks away from the current site of the Trop? I don’t know about everyone else’s experiences, but I have absolutely no trouble going to and from a baseball game currently, and I am sure 15 blocks will not suddenly cause me to sit in traffic for hours before and after a game. And even if traffic is worse, I would have no problem with it. Have you ever been to a major city like Chicago or New York during baseball season? Any traffic jams we might have in dinky little St. Petersburg will pale in comparison to the traffic jams baseball fans have been dealing with for a hundred years.

They claim that the new stadium would be bad for business. Yes, I understand fully how building a new stadium on the site of a completely vacant baseball field and attempting to redevelop 86 acres in an area that is in dire need of financial upbringing could be terrible for business. Wait, what?

POWW would like to have us believe that these promises of economic prosperity were made and never delivered upon when the Florida Suncoast Dome (now Tropicana Field) was built in the 1980s. Of course your economic revitalization will fail if you have an empty dome in the middle of the ghetto for half a decade. Jeez.

They claim that there would be terrible environmental damage if the stadium is built, since the plan calls for filling in .6 acres of Tampa Bay and turning it into land upon which the stadium can be built. Now, excuse me here, but Jesus Tapdancing Christ. This is the lamest excuse they have. It’s a little over half of an acre. And to save what? Manatees? Christ. What have manatees ever done for us? Oh, that’s right. Nothing. I’m not even going to go into the ridiculous hippie nature (no pun intended) of this argument. Moving on.

And of course, they claim that there are better alternatives. On their Web site, under this category, they have a photo of some little leaguers. Now, if that isn’t trying to appeal to people’s warm and fuzzy emotions, I don’t know what is. Sure, POWW can throw a bunch of alternatives up on the board that help their cause, but I have yet to see any solid redevelopment plans that go so far as to revitalize a dying cityscape.

Another thing I’m so sick of hearing about is the heat. People whining about the warm weather in Florida. I love it. Listen, Minor League Baseball has existed in Florida for decades upon decades. Those games occur at the same time of day and the same time of year as Major League Baseball games. I have never had a problem with them, and neither have all the folks who go out to see the Clearwater Threshers, Brevard County Manatees, Jacksonville Suns, or any other minor league affiliate in this state. There will be a sail to cut down on sun on particularly hot days and there will be air conditioning in the concourses. Quit your bellyaching. Heck, join me for a Gator game in the middle of September at 12:00 with body paint clogging your pores and sweat glands and then we can talk about heat. Gosh.

The final misconception about the stadium that is really bugging me is the notion that the Rays are threatening to leave the Tampa Bay area if they don’t get their stadium. They are not. Stuart Sternberg has clarified time and time again that they are not using this whole idea to hold the city hostage. They will stay in the Trop for the remainder of their lease (until 2027, I believe). For those that say they will buy out their lease and move elsewhere, where will they go? There is no market as large and potentially profitable as the one here in Tampa Bay. If you add the Orlando TV market, we would have the fourth-largest television market in the Majors. It would make no sense to leave the area. None.

Well, there you have it. All of the misconceptions and my responses thereto. Before this post ends, though, I would like to mention one thing that I found the other day.

The folks who want to “Preserve Our Wallets and Waterfront” have a page on their Web site about “Secrecy and Fairness.” I think this is ironic, because of the images located on their “About POWW!” page.

There, they have a photo of the Al Lang site as it is now, with green grass and water in the background. Below it, an image of the proposed stadium, which they credit to the Rays’ Web site. This is all well and good, but something struck me about the second image.

I opened it in Photoshop, and I opened the original Rays image. I was astonished to find two things:
1. The POWW image is 8 pixels narrower than the original image from the Rays. Is this a subtle way to highlight the height of the stadium (which, I might add, was misrepresented, as you saw earlier in this post).
2. Even worse, POWW actually darkened the original photo. Darker Skies, dimmer water, everything. Any high school journalism student could tell you that this is the pinnacle of unethical photo editing. I emailed the good folks at POWW about it (to their “Invite Us to Speak” email, since they have no other way to electronically correspond), and I have yet to get a response. As of today, the image is still up on their Web site.

Here are the two images (click the thumbnail for a larger version):

It’s interesting that a group so adamantly against the stadium that relies on “fact” would have to go so far as to subtly brainwash the public into thinking that the Rays proposal would be so terrible. They rely heavily on misinformation, conjecture, and unethical behavior.

Heck, I could yell really loud and be right, too.

Another post based on my hatred for the Boston Red Sox

Recently, I got a letter from Major League Baseball telling me about the great deals I can get if I subscribe to XM Satellite Radio to listen to every one of my team’s games. That was all well and fine, but the letter itself was from Larry Lucchino, President & CEO of the Boston Red Sox.

Oh dear, you have upset me.

Well, may as well write another letter to yet another Major League Baseball team, right? This is in the mail as we speak. Let’s see if we get a response (I’m still waiting on further correspondence from the Yankees):

Dear Mr. Lucchino,

Hello. Recently, I received in the mail a letter from your office beckoning me to subscribe to XM Satellite Radio such that I may hear broadcasts of the Sox whenever I please. There is a pretty significant issue with your letter, however, in that it begins with the phrase “Dear Red Sox Fan.”

I would like to make it abundantly clear that I am not, never have been, and never will be one of the legion of soulless and spineless bandwagon jumpers that you so eloquently call “fans.” I have never donned a Sox hat, I will never set foot into Fenway Park, and every day when I wake up I sing the praises of Mookie Wilson to the heavens. Quite simply put, I hate the Red Sox more than anything on this planet.

By calling me, a tried and true Tampa Bay Rays fan, by those terrible, terrible words, you have insulted me to no end. Never would I want to be associated with the ignorant Sawx-loving drones that infest the country. I am neither as drunk nor as belligerent as the typical Red Sox fan, and I take pride in my ability to watch a baseball game without spitting on opposing fans, using profanity within earshot of children, or being generally ignorant about the game.

I realize that you yourself had nothing to do with this mass mailing. However, I would like you to let whoever it is that sent me unsolicited mail peddling broadcasts of your team’s games that they are never to send me correspondence from Yawkey Way ever again. Ever.

Shove it up your ass,

Casey A. Peterson

P.S. Sweet Caroline sucks.

How much I hate the Red Sox

In this post, I will proceed to describe just how much I hate the Red Sox.

I hate the Red Sox so much, I can think of a million things I would rather do than be in their presence for an extended period of time. I would rather:

Get an appendectomy. Chop off my own legs and beat myself over the head with them. Jump off a cliff Wile E. Coyote style, holding a sign that says “At least I’m not watching the Sawx!” Play a game of Russian Roulette with myself. Wear a Speedo everywhere I go. Wear a tuxedo everywhere I go. Bake a cake filled with shards of glass. Read War and Peace. Watch a Ben Stiller movie. Pull off my fingernails with a pair of pliers. Confine myself to a tiny room with Michael Moore after he eats twelve bean burritos. Talk like the guy from the B-52s for the rest of my life. Fly too close to the sun with wax wings. Marry my Golden Retriever. Swallow my own fist. Fall into a volcano. Try to sharpen each of my fingers in an electric pencil sharpener. Try to sharpen my fingers in an manual pencil sharpener. Watch every episode of Sex and the City. Watch every episode of Sex in the City, counting the times I am falsely attracted to Sarah Jessica Parker, only to realize that she is actually a man. Eat 50 pounds of uncooked rice. Violate a hedgehog. Walk barefoot over hot coals. Drink 20 shots of grain alcohol and play a game of tennis with my pastor. Skydive without a parachute. Move to Wyoming. Shave my head and get a tattoo of Michael Jackson’s face on my bare scalp. Get naked and cover myself with bees.

There are more, trust me. The point here is the same, folks: the Boston Red Sox and their fans are the most irritating folks in the history of mankind. I cannot stand them.

How to save the world in about 23 seconds

Lately, the talk of global warming has enveloped our dear society into an intense struggle between people who think the world is going to end because I drive a car and people who know for sure that our recent climate change is a mere cyclical happenstance.

Well, I prefer not to take sides in this debate, so I offer the topic of an actual conversation I had with a female petition pusher with a boy haircut I had on campus today.

While I concede that global warming could indeed be a possibility, I maintain that I don’t really care, at least for the time being, and I offer the following as my reasoning.

The state of Florida, if global warming is a real threat, won’t be underwater for some time. At least, not in my lifetime. And they keep telling me to care about the fact that the environment is going to Hell in a hand basket and that I should take preventative steps to reduce its effect for my children’s’ sake.

Well, if that’s the case, I’ll have to have children, right?

If that is the case, I will have to, at some point in my existence on this big round ball, plant my seed inside a woman. Ergo, I will have to find somewhere a female who will allow me the privilege of breaching her floppy V.

So, if and when a woman decides it necessary to make love to me, I will begin caring about global warming for the sake of my little sideburned flagellate friends.

The moral of this story: girls, if you really care about the environment, you will have lots of hardcore sex with me. Do it for me. Do it for the environment. But most of all, do it for the children.