Play ball!
[ 3 Comments ] Posted on 05.07.05 in baseball, complaints
Hey, dude. Seriously, what’s your problem?
You know I’m talking to you, Fellow who Starts Applauding and Yelling before the National Anthem is Over. Honestly, does that last “and the home of the brave” really seem that insignificant to you?
Perhaps the whole situation is proof of the lack of American fortitude. People are expected to stop talking about how horrendous the Yankees’ record is while chugging down their Budweisers for _a whole song?_ Impossible. There’s always that one guy who starts having boisterous conniptions after “O’er the la-aand of the free,” and then, like within a giant herd of sheep the identical actions spread throughout a ballpark like plight through a corn field. Before you know it, the performer of the National Anthem is drowned out by the spectators of the national past time and the patriotic flare of the events before a game is snuffed out by the drunken ravings of a bunch of overweight and balding men.
Perhaps we Americans need to work on our collective stamina.
Paul McCartney ate Ringo’s head unit
[ 3 Comments ] Posted on 05.02.05 in cars, music
Last night, as the family had dinner at Outback Steakhouse, the topic of conversation meandered down the path of upcoming concert events. Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson are coming to town; so are the Allman Brothers and the remaining one-four-hundredth of Lynyrd Skynyrd; and, of course, who could forget Sir Paul McCartney?
My father asked me whether in my music interests I’ve come across Sir Paul’s first album, dubbed “The Cherry Album,” but more formally “McCartney.” I knew of the album and its cover art, but I had yet to listen to it fully. After obtaining it when I got home, I went to bed.
This morning, I burned a copy of the CD before I ran out of the door at 6:10 to initiate the carpool. I walked out to Ringo feeling refreshed and ready to start my journey to school (which, by the way, I only have to do once more this week, thanks to AP exams). I got in my car, put Sir Paul in, and was on my way.
However, the CD player spit out Paul like he was a giant bowl of that greenish marshmallow stuff my mother makes on major holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas. After picking up Angus and fiddling with my testy stereo for a few minutes, we noticed that there was a plume of smoke spewing from the head unit. I assumed that this was not a good sign, so I took off the faceplate and hoped that the short would not spark and cause a fire.
Now I know where my first few paychecks are going.
Why my job is cooler than yours
[ 6 Comments ] Posted on 04.23.05 in awesomeness, work
I don’t feel that my previous and rather nebulous description of my new job is sufficient enough to completely describe the awesomeness thereof.
Last Saturday as I was showering, my good brother Ian knocked on my door and said, “Dude! I’ve got the perfect job for you!” So, after getting dressed, I went to his room to see what the entire hubbub was about. It turned out that he had seen an advertisement on the Dunedin Blue Jays’ Web site about a need for a mascot. And here’s the kicker, folks: no experience was necessary.
So, after pacing around and dialing six digits like a little schoolgirl who just wants to breathe heavily into the receiver and hear that cute boy from English class answer the phone, I called a contact with the team and left a message regarding my interest in the position. I hadn’t heard back from them for a few days, so I assumed they had found someone more favorable for the position.
Therefore, when I got a callback on Wednesday of last week, I was adequately surprised. The good folks from the Blue Jays wanted to meet with me that evening before their game against the Lakeland Tigers, an offer which I immediately accepted. I met my contact with the team and we had a nice interview in the box office of Knology Park.
I returned on Thursday’s game against the Tampa Yankees to learn the ropes from Dave, a freelance mascot who knows what he’s doing. It was a good thing, too. I wouldn’t have had any idea how to do the mascot thing.
Then, on Friday night, it was my turn. I donned the outrageously warm blue fur and proceeded to mess with each and every person in the stands at least once. I raced a kid from first to third base after the second inning. He smoked me. After the last out of the third, I participated in a game in which I threw rubber chickens into the air and two kids with giant clown pants tried to catch them in their festively colored garments. By the time the fourth inning rolled around, I was atop the dugout and entertaining the cozy Dunedin crowd like there was no tomorrow. And when the game encountered the seventh inning stretch, I led the masses in a stirring rendition of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”
And by the end of the eighth, I was out of costume and restoring my original body temperature in the stands while watching one of the better extra inning ballgames of my short existence. And the best part of it all was that in normal clothes, no one in the stands was wise to my alter ego as D Jay, the happy-go-lucky Blue Jay.
I had a lot of fun last night. The only downfall of the job is its heat factor, but other than that, it’s a veritable perk machine. Free drinks; free baseball; the opportunity to say, “Hey ladies, I’m a mascot” and a schedule that mandates only 2.5 – 3 hours of work whenever I’m scheduled to appear. And the kids love me, so that’s nice too.
But the best part, my friends, is the fact that I am the first kid I know to actually be on the front of a real, live baseball card. One day, I’ll get some and sell them autographed for $19.99 on ebay.