Cats Playing Soccer

This one-minute video is bizarre.
The ending is even stranger.

Wii Will Rock You

I'm glad that Padres closer Heath Bell lost 25 pounds on the Nintendo Wii Fit, but I'm not sure what kind of message it sends to opposing players. This is the guy who's supposed to close out games, be absolutely unhittable, and intimidate batters in the ninth inning. And yet here he is doing the hula hoop exercise. At the very least, he needs a kickass lead-in song like "Hell's Bells" or "Thunderstruck" when he steps out onto the field.
A writer at the Hardball Times suggested 50 potential songs to get the crowd riled up and put fear into the other team. I liked a few of his choices:

"Iron Man" Black Sabbath
"Mama Said Knock You Out" LL Cool J
"Don't Fear The Reaper" Blue Oyster Cult

But alas, instead of these tunes, Petco Park will be filled with the crappy sounds of Breaking Benjamin ("Blow Me Away" - from the 300 movie). I don't like this one bit.

Prediction: Cuba Beats South Africa

So it's the first day of baseball spring training.
But let's not forget we're only a week away from the World Baseball Classic.
Before we start salivating over the highly-contested Australia-Mexico match-up, I would like to know how a player qualifies for a team.

According to the San Diego Union-Tribune, this is why Padres outfielder Scott Hairston is playing for Team Mexico:

"Hairston doesn't speak Spanish, but his mother, Esperanza, was born in Mexico and Hairston has several relatives in Hermosillo. “I love the culture and I am proud to represent Mexico,” he said."

Given this reasoning, I'm announcing my intention to play for the Costa Rican racquetball team. When I visited C.R. this past summer, I really enjoyed the beer and the daiquiris. And I have a ton of respect for the flag colors, and I appreciate that monkeys did not steal my backpack. I'm so proud to represent Costa Rica.

Wait a second. Didn't Alex Rodriguez say he was going to play for the Dominican Republic in the WBC this spring (even though he was born in the United States)? In December, he said:

"I am 100 percent sure that I will play for the Dominican Republic team," he said. "This time, there will be no doubts and it is a dream of my mom's that I intend to fulfill."

Over a month later, A-Rod said he would be playing for the stars and stripes.
Hmmm. I don't see him on the U.S. roster anymore. Wander what happened?
Oh.
That.

(no subject)

So I received an e-mail the other day that started like this:

"Hi there!
It has been long time since we did not meet. I hope everything is okay with you."

A promising start, right? Then, things take a strange turn:

"I found a great medicine shop on the net. I ordered some meds and got my orders in 3 days to my postbox. They are cheap and quality."

At this point, I realized that a spam message had made its way through the g-mail filter. It was not a friendly message from "cindy22." It was a sales pitch for generic anti-depressants, antibiotics, sleep aids, ED drugs and weight loss medicines. The e-mail was informing me about an online pharmacy in...Canada! Yet the phone number has a 210 area code - San Antonio, Texas! To add to the confusion, the message included the phrase "Always making you a happy customer," which does not sound like North American English to me - more like something on the cover of a takeout menu. I'm not going to spend any more time researching the origins of this online company, but why did I open the message up to begin with?

Maybe it's because I find the name "Cindy" a little alluring. I would much rather open a message from "Cindy" than "Esther," "Myrtle," or "Ida."
This led me to create a list of other names I find attractive:
Monique, Vanessa, Cindy, Alyssa, Stacey, Crystal, Nadia, Maria, Ashley, Jessica, Sienna, Nikki, Natasha, Veronica, Michelle, Bella, Kristina, Joanna, Melissa, and of course, Svetlana.
This may seem a little weird to you, but at least I know what to not name my daughter. Although maybe today's Natasha will be tomorrow's Mildred.

Sweatshop Sentiment

On Saturday, I was helping a man get a new library card. He also wanted to get a library card for his daughter. I asked him, "Is your daughter here?"
He said, "No, but I'm her father."
I told him that she had to be present to obtain a library card (for several reasons: (1) to make sure that she existed, (2) to explain the policies of the library to her, (3) because library cards are for individuals, not families, and card use is only extended to family members in certain circumstances).
I didn't go into detail on these reasons, but I told him she had to be physically present.
"But she's an eight year-old," he said. "She doesn't have any rights. I'm her father."
"Well, in the public library, she does," I replied.
That sort of shut him up, and I tried to be extra nice to him during the rest of the encounter. Whenever a patron is agitated, you kill him or her with kindness. If you continue to act unaffected by a person's outrage, it's harder for that person to stay angry.
He said that he would bring his daughter the following day.

Still, his initial reasoning made me think of this "Wonder Showzen" video clip:
http://www.boreme.com/boreme/funny-2007/thank-you-slaves-p1.php

Enchanted Unicorn

My last entry was a prelude to a visit to the Emerald Queen Casino (which is about a five-minute drive from my apartment). I did not hear any of those songs spouting from gamblers this afternoon. Most of them were in a trance, staring intently at their slot machine screens. Focused on the colorful lights and shapes, listening to the gentle and cheerful tones. Mesmerized by the way lines connect and items are matched. To be sure, there are distractions: lighting cigarettes and accepting drinks from the waitstaff. Pushing a button does not require much effort, but evaluating the results and considering wagers requires all of your attention.

The is an imagined thought pattern of a slot machine gambler:
"How will fate (randomized computer system) reward me this time?"
"If fortune does not come this time, perhaps it will next time."
"The odds are with me now."
"I am going to keep pushing this button until I win."
"Yes, it's a bit of a bad run. But I remember that one time where everything was delightful."
"It will happen again. It has to..."
"I need to get back to even."
"I'm so close to hitting the jackpot. I can smell it."
"Come on, you fucker."
"At least I'm getting free drinks."
"God hates me. He wants me to be poor."
"Might as well play out the rest of the credit on this card."
"I need another drink."
"I need another smoke."
"No Christmas presents this year."

So how did my experience at I-5 EQC differ from the way it's portrayed in television commercials? There were no people jumping up and down or smiling emphatically, and no women meeting the men of their dreams. Although it is pretty ethnically diverse. I was also surprised by the diversity of slot machine themes. The gaming industry has strived to represent every culture in stereotypical fashion - from East Asia (Chinese Treasure, Jade Dragon, Lotus Flower) to Europe (DaVinci's Diamonds, Rembrandt's Riches) to Africa (King Cheetah, 50 Lions, Cleopatra, Nefertiti). Then there's the magical/fantastical category of slots (Enchanted Unicorn, Mystical Mermaid, Dolphin Treasure) and those that promise riches (Heaven Cent, Penny Pig-Out, Milk Money). Even symbols of the Pacific Northwest have been integrated into the gambling experience: Wild Bear/Salmon Run, Coyote Moon, and Wolf Run (which is named after a game designer's residential complex - true story).
The most unique slot machine was: Lucky Luigi's Pizzeria. In order to win, you match up pizzas, cans of mushrooms, pepperoni, cheese, and images of Luigi saying the following: "That's nice" and "Bravo!" It's like you're cooking up a recipe for failure.

I've had to Febreeze my clothing when I got home. It reeked of cigarette smoke after a twenty-minute walk around the casino floor.
(By the way, there is a small non-smoking room at the EQC with about 40+ slot machines).

I leave you with this: http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/slot-machine.html

Gambling in Song

They call you lady luck, but there is room for doubt.
(Frank Sinatra)
Lady luck, please let the dice stay hot, let me shout a seven with every shot.
(Elvis Presley)
I've been gambling like a fiend on your tables so green.
(Wilco)
I don't share your greed, the only card I need is the Ace Of Spades.
(Motorhead)
Playing with the queen of hearts, knowing it ain't really smart.
(Juice Newton)
You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em.
(Kenny Rodgers)
Don, you draw the queen of diamonds, boy. She'll beat you if she's able.
(Eagles)
The joker's closin' in. I know, you know, they know, we all know.
(Electric Light Orchestra)
But like, 52 cards went out. I'm through dealing, now 52 bars come out.
(Jay-Z)
Forget about your house of cards and I'll do mine.
(Radiohead)

I've played all my cards. And that's what you've done, too.
(ABBA)

Amsterdam is Crunk

Believe it or not, rap is alive and well in the Netherlands. Liverpool footballer Ryan Babel (aka Rio) is the leader of brave new Hollandic hip-hop. Apparently there is no suitable Dutch translation for "m**** f*****."

The In-And-Out Burger is on Camrose...

I was recently chatting with a friend about some of our favorite movies. Surprisingly, a good deal of them take place in Los Angeles. So I decided to compile a Top Ten List of films that are set in L.A. County. Mind you, these are pictures where it's obvious that L.A. is the location. Sorry, neither "Encino Man" nor "B*A*P*S" made the list. The first one is a no-brainer:

1. The Big Lebowski (1998)
2. The Long Goodbye (1973)
3. Friday (1995)
4. Chinatown (1974)
5. Get Shorty (1995)
6. Beverly Hills Cop (1984)
7. Boyz N the Hood (1991)
8. Heat (1995)
9. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)
10. Earthquake (1975) - the most spectacular disaster movie of all time!!!

It's hard for me to leave out "Fast Times At Ridgemont High," "Fletch" or "Repo Man," but it had to be done. I also haven't seen "Rebel Without A Cause," so maybe I'm missing something there.

Tension in the Public Library!!

As I was working at the library today, I noticed something suspicious. As a pre-teen girl was using a computer, a man in his forties/fifties walked up and stood right behind her chair without saying anything. He was looking down at her screen (which was submerged). He continued to stand there, and also glanced at the screen of the woman sitting nearby. The man continued to do nothing but hover over the girl. Finally, he tapped her on the shoulder, and she had sort of a disgusted look on her face, and didn't turn to face him.

I assumed the worst case scenario (that this man was harassing this young girl). Feeling that it was my duty as a library employee to protect youth from nefarious characters, I said clearly, "Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?"

His response was not warm. He said, "Do you mind if I talk to my daughter?" His eyes told me I should go and crawl into the darkest corner of the earth, and never return from that place.

I said something foolish like, "Oh, okay, go ahead." As if my permission was needed. I had clearly misjudged things. Should I have waited longer before forming my conclusion?

A talkative female patron sitting at the computer next to me giggled a little, and I felt I had to explain to her - explain to someone - my motives for interrupting them. She sympathized with me, but I still felt like an idiot. The man did not stay long after our conversation. He disappeared into the back of the library.

Later, when I was stationed at the check-out desk, I noticed the man again. I was helping a woman with her books, and saw him standing in line. I thought to myself, "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. This is not going to be fun." I wished the woman a good afternoon and she departed from the counter - exit stage left. The man immediately stepped up to the desk. Did I mention that he was a large man with a long overcoat (which could conceal a multitude of weapons, including shame)?

He held a CD case in his left hand, and his other hand was outstretched toward me. I looked up to study his face and he had a large smile. "I think I owe you an apology," he said. I shook his hand, and said, "I also owe you an apology." He told me that he understood that I was just looking after his daughter. And I told him that I didn't mean to offend him. Our friendly discussion continued as I checked out the CD, and ended with a fond farewell.

What is the lesson here? I'm not sure. Maybe it's that our brains are built to make sense of things, and we're not always right in our interpretations. Or maybe it's a sign I need to have more faith in people. Regardless, it was a nice little moment.

Icehouse and Ladybugs

If you have a moment, I want to take you into the faux art-deco hallways of my apartment building. There is a constant smell of syrup on the 12th floor...which was overtaken this morning by the aroma of sauteed onions. Maybe Presidents' Day marks a special occasion in one of my neighbor's lives - when omelettes trump pancakes.

Today I noticed the presence of two cans of Icehouse. One of them was above the mailboxes in the lobby. The other one was next to the fourth floor firehose. I can only surmise that they came from the same case. From my David Caruso sunglasses, I imagine a pair of gentleman racing down the stairs. Perhaps one of them is a faster drinker. They were in a hurry to get to the bar. Yet their thriftiness convinced them to show up with added jubilee and extra confidence. Once they got to the watering hole, they had no choice but to upgrade to something primo - like Bud Light. Or maybe they hit their stomachs in reverse, with a shot of Jeiger.

After I went for a jog, I found three dead ladybugs on my carpet. Are they still good luck if they're dead?

I realize this is a pretty ridiculous post, but I think that's what blogging is all about. A subjective view of life's details. I am sensitive, I want to understand myself, and I want people to listen.

More to follow in my exploration of the Stadium District...