#mydad plays on a double feature screen. #yourdad went straight to DVD.
What a gloomy day for some morning coffee and reading outside. Well, at least it’s cold and windy too. (at The Green)
It’s not really a writer’s block, because my brain is full of partially and fully formed ideas to create, but its almost as if when I go to write up a new idea or start a section of my latest work… My fingers are too stupid to accurately translate what’s going on in my brain.
Has this ever happened to you guys before? Like a block on your ability to write, rather than a block on being able to come up with things to write about?
Dudes, crazy frustrating. Especially when you drag your ass out of bed at 6 in the morning with the specific intention of asking your girlfriend to strand you at Starbucks with nothing but your notebooks and a keyboard… I was supposed to get shit done today.
Because I am fucking excited.
And not just because Alex Rodriguez needs to be taken down about 8,000 pegs. And not just because Ryan Braun deserves to get double for being a scumbag liar and weaseling his way out of the punishment when he was caught red handed already.
No, this may seem like I am just having a knee-jerk schadenfreude reaction to watching the mighty fall. But I swear that I have some noble reasoning behind this.
This is going to be the catalyst that may actually clean up PEDs in baseball.
We needed this. We needed a wide sweeping “not taking this shit anymore” decision, a show that Bud Selig may be blind and stupid but even he can’t sit by and inact. We need to show all ballplayers and all prospective ballplayers and all the fans that we aren’t slapping wrists anymore and we are acknowledging that it is widespread and that it has to stop.
And maybe its already begun. Maybe thats why we’re putting pitchers on the covers of SI every month. Maybe we can teach kids to root for 15 strikeouts instead of a goddamn home run derby every night.
Not to say we need to abolish the derby, but we need to leave it to the one night. The home run needs to be the exception and not the rule.
And maybe we need to get together as a fanbase and finally realize that Buster Onley may be a nerd, but we should all be geeking the fuck out about Cabrera’s batting average and not wishing he was going yard every game.
that you finished writing your book a year ago and haven’t made any strides in getting it published and don’t know anyone who can help you do that and also its probably terrible and you haven’t written a whole lot of new stuff since last summer.
Ok, so I must start this with two very large caveats:
Firstly, I am by no means an expert on baseball. I know enough to know I don’t know shit compared to a lot of you out there, but I have been watching the beloved Metropolitan Baseball Club for the majority of my life largely thanks to my mother who spent her teen years watching the Mets of the 60’s rollick around the field only to spend the 1969 World Series in a car with her parents having to listen to the Miracle over the airwaves.
Secondly, because of this pedigree I am an absolute glutton for the punishment that is watching nearly every single game of every single season (barring conflicts of being at work in which case I will leave the game on mute on my iPad and look it when I can), which also means I truly and honestly feel in my bones that Ya Gotta Believe and most of my brain refuses to write off the 2013 season until the day they are mathematically eliminated.
That said, there is something about Mr. Harvey that cannot be denied. And that is his striking resemblance to Tom Terrific and the Doctor. In a franchise that can attribute its postseason successes largely to pitching and sheer dumb luck, we have the first component for the next ring squarely in place. Even though I wasn’t alive to see either of these pitchers in their prime and an infant for Gooden’s fall from grace, I have heard enough stories and seen enough classics to know that this is what we’ve been fortunate to see this past month and a half.
So, why 2014? Because I know someone will read this and rip me apart for being unrealistic if I were to say 2013… “The Braves are too good, or the Cardinals, or the Reds, or whatever’s happening in the American League (because let’s be honest, fuck the American League)” they’ll say. But who’s to say we don’t have a Miracle season in us this year; no one, thats who. Maybe John Buck will find the bat he used in April and not lose it again, maybe Daniel Murphy stays the second baseman we all wanted to believe he could be when he was still ruining every single double play chance he got, maybe we found the answer in Rick Ankiel, maybe Ike Davis gets lost on his way to the ballpark one day and just doesn’t come to any more games for a while, maybe Zack Wheeler comes up after the all star break and is everything we were promised when we gave up Robot Knee/Hip, maybe a lot of things.
But what’s more likely next year? Matt Harvey continues to mature and evolve into a dominant force in the National League. Travis d’Arnaud heals his foot and comes up this year to grow as a player and deliver next year. We have an actual pitching rotation. We use all that Johan Santana money to buy a quality outfielder. Lucas Duda steps the fuck up and becomes what we all thought Ike Davis was going to be. And next year we blow the fucking lid off it.
That does not mean I have stopped believing that every single game is the start of a 10 day win streak that plants us back at the top of the division and we sit there for the rest of the season, because I still think that every day at 7:10. But it does mean that regardless of the standings on September 30th, 2013… I feel deep in my gut using all the advanced metrics of INT (intuition), GUT (gut feeling), HRT (heart), and FTH (faith) that October 2014 will be the year we all have to go out and buy new hats with World Series Champions on it.
This summer, I will make my first actual attempt at being recognized through the tumblr for my ability to put words together in a compelling fashion. In the once grand tradition of serialized fiction pieces; I will be internet publishing an extended series of shortish stories plucked from the ridiculous vacations I have taken with my dude friends these past three or four summers. Manly vacations, or Mancations as they have been termed, have become an annual and sometimes bi-annual tradition and since we are still wildly unprepared for whatever it is we decide to embark upon… it usually leads to mild hilarity.
Anyway, since it wouldn’t make sense to write about each trip as a whole, I will be writing and posting out of order stories that I think are the funniest at least once a week until I run out of them or become famous and get a book deal and then I don’t need the internet anymore.
I haven’t quite decided on whether or not I will register a domain or not, or what’s even available out there in the internetverse, so for now just come along and follow the link here and click follow or whatever.
I’m not your real dad, so you don’t have to listen to me.
I should preface this with the following confession that should come as neither a shock, nor a surprise. I don’t read as much or as often as I should. I don’t write as often either, but that one is a less universal confession that reading. We all intend to read more. We all start each new year with the bold intention of gobbling up as much of our vibrant printed language as we can muster, often setting numerical goals and placing them daintily inside of some neat little timeframes knowing full well that if we make it too short of a span we will burn out quickly; but also if it is too long of a span we will simply forget. And for those of us who have the notion that we need a 9-5 job in not-writing to support our dream of just reading and writing our days away next month/year/decade/lifetime… it is a truly daunting task to sit down after numbing our skulls and our asses all day to pick up a book/pen/keyboard and devote time to our private word adventures.
(Especially when you’re me and your nights are enveloped by baseball games, like the nearly 6 hour fuckfest the Mets played last night in Miami. Or even worse… there was a 19 inning situation last night between the Angels and Athletics that lasted until almost 5am EST.)
I digress from my original intent.
We all wish we could read more, and I know I certainly wish I could write more.
For the first time in a couple of months, I have been bitten significantly by the bug to get back to writing. I haven’t done any serious work on my next book since January, and with Spring sprung upon us I think it’s really going to be the right time to hurl myself full force into it. Maybe ask some friends and acquaintances if it would be too imposing to help me find an agent/publisher for my first book, which would obviously financially allow me to free up some more time in my life to devote to writing.
Because in the end I guess the most important thing is that words are awesome, and more people need to spend their days immersed in them.
**SPOILER ALERT ~~~ I HAVEN”T SEEN THE NEW SEASON YET**
That’s how Spoiler Alerts work, right? Sure, why the fuck not?
So, you may be sitting there and reading wondering who the fuck I am blogging about Mad Men if I haven’t been watching Mad Men. What kind of twenty-something white person am I that I’m not watching Mad Men?? Oh, wait, was I watching Game of Thrones? I WASN’T?! WORST WHITE PERSON EVER.
Yes, I am. I freely admit that I would much rather spend my Sunday evening watching Cheers reruns on Netflix (because let’s be real, the Mets aren’t going to be the marquee Sunday night game any time soon.)
Where was I going with this?
Oh, yeah… So if not to discuss the plot points of Mad Men ad nauseum, what am I getting at?
I am getting at the casting of young Sally Draper, actress Kiernan Shipka. Because apparently, now that she isn’t little anymore, she is a SPITTING FUCKING IMAGE of Betty Draper at the beginning of the show. And that is some casting director that needs their back patted until it is red, raw, and bleeding. Seriously. Congratulations.
That is all.
Bike store had these awesome pins for the People For Bikes campaign. Probably peopleforbikes.org or something.