The Frisco Roughriders Win Again, My Wife Confronts My Biggest Fear With Luggage In Hand

Sometimes all you need is a baseball game…

My wife is gearing up to hop atop my greatest fear in life and fly down to Nicaragua to see her folks for the first time in almost 4 years.  It’s been a long time coming and the U.S. Govt. has done everything in their power to bend us over and ease it in dry.  I guess they’re tired of us and have moved on to a new ass…

So, since we have just a few days left before she travels we decided to go see the Texas Rangers AA minor league affiliate, the Frisco Roughriders play the San Antonio Mission.  Let me say this, nothing beats a beautiful day at the park.  I’ve probably spent 500 summer days of my life out at a ballpark and walking out of the tunnel to a massive green field still makes me feel really, really happy.  It’s the perfect sport, a perfect balance of action and strategy, a perfect talking sport.  A lot of folks are turned off by all the pausing in between pitches and hitters and innings but for me, that’s always been a perfect time to talk baseball w/ the folks sitting next to you.  I usually can’t be bothered w/ most people but at a baseball game, I simply don’t hate you as much.

It was a hot day today, getting up to 98 degrees.  Ena got some serious color on her and I turned a nice shade of lobster on my arms and neck.  Regardless, the Riders won 4-1 w/ two of the Rangers top prospects hitting homeruns (Max Ramirez, C and Chris Davis, 1B) and the stands were packed w/ way more folks than I thought we’d see for an 11am game.  We both had a really nice time and I really hope we can get back out there a few more times this year.  

It’s crazy how life works out.  I often wonder what might’ve happened had I not moved down to Costa Rica and given up pitching for singing in a rock band.  I don’t know that I would’ve ever been good enough to have been a major league player but I am left-handed and had a damn good curveball and was definitely good enough for AA ball.  The downside of this, however is I never woulda met Ena, never would’ve met my friends, never would’ve seen ‘Duck, You Sucker’ at ATrain’s apt. last night after powering down 2 Big Kahuna Burgers.  Still, woulda been cool just to see how it all might’ve played itself out.

Anyway, my message today is this: watch more baseball and fly on fewer planes.  These two lifestyle changes will ensure you live a happier, more productive life.  And watch ‘Duck, You Sucker’.  It’s a bit long…but James Coburn double teams his sister w/ another dude at the end of the movie.

Pain Killers, Movie Buzz, Bedtime For Mother Earth

God bless wireless internet and God bless my laptop.

I’m all pilled up right now so forgive me if this ends up being nothing more than an incoherent ramble that jumps from point A to point Q, then back to the number 4 before bouncing off the walls inside my head and landing on point B.  Last night, I walked out of my office, made a right turn to head into the kitchen to talk to my wife and, from a sniper’s perch, was struck with the back spasm from hell.  I fell to one knee…and ended up on my stomach while my wife dug icyhot into my back with hands so strong you’d swear she could fresh squeeze orange juice without taking a single blade to the fruit. 

For those of you in the know, you understand how brutal it is for me to be stuck here in bed today.  I don’t like to sleep, I don’t like resting, I don’t like feeling I’m missing out on something.  But 30 ain’t 20 so I guess this is the body’s way to forcing me to dial it all back a notch. 

Just watched a brilliant documentary called ‘Z Channel: A Magnificent Obsession’.  Z Channel was a mid-70’s pay-cable station (the 1st of its kind) that was based out of Los Angeles.  Programmed by a man named Jerry Harvey, it showed everything from blockbusters like Star Wars to films like Salvador, which was a movie pushed to the wayside by the Hollywood machine only to be resurected on Z Channel and garner James Woods a Best Actor Oscar nomination.  Z Channel is also largely responsible for bringing the public director’s cuts of films, showing the original versions of films like Heaven’s Gate and Once Upon A Time In America, both of which were initially re-cut and subsequently panned by critics and moviegoers before finding new life in an un-cut form on Z Channel.  At its apex Z Channel had over 100,000 subscribers in Los Angeles, eventually falling off after the combination of Harvey’s death and the stock market crash in the mid-80’s which leveled many of its primary investors.  Very interesting film.

Just saw something on tv about yet another wildfire arson, this time along the coast of Florida.  What is it about the sickness in so many of us that yearns to turn something beautiful into something ugly?  Why would anyone want to take another person’s home from them…even an enemy?  Makes no sense to me.  Wildfires, earthquakes, tsunamis, the shit storm is brewin’, kids.  I don’t get all hippy dippy on you very often but in case you haven’t noticed, Mother Earth has had just about all she’s gonna take from the likes of us.  Folks had better stop messing around with her or she may just up and decide to swallow us whole.

So I guess I’m just gonna throw on a Peel Sessions Cure cd I just picked up, wrap this blog up and stare at the ceiling until I pass out.  My eyes are starting to get heavy from the muscle relaxers and I don’t wanna run the risk of going to sleep and dropping the laptop in the floor.

Fatigue

I’m tired of back spasms that drop you to one knee in front of your wife.  I’m of tired of U.S. Immigration.  I’m tired of carbonated beverages.  I’m tired of the war on terror, the war on drugs, and the war on humanity.  I’m tired of being told how good I’ve got it.  I’m tired of punk bands not being ‘punk’.  I’m tired of rock bands going country and country bands going rock.  I’m tired of socks.  I’m tired of pants.  I’m tired of red lights.  I’m tired of basketball.  I’m tired of 150$ ticket prices to get a decent seat at a show.  I’m tired of sex.  I’m tired of drugs.  I’m tired of rock n’ roll (in it’s present state).  I’m tired of Rick Rubin.  I’m tired of Axl Rose.  I’m tired of rudeness.  I’m tired of fear.  I’m tired of weakness.  I’m tired of hatred.  I’m tired of the Simpsons.  I’m tired of having the right answers.  I’m tired of making the same mistakes.  I’m tired of CNN.  I’m tired of Bill.  I’m tired of Hillary.  I’m tired of Barack.  I’m tired of McCain.  I’m tired of Gene Simmons’ hair (or lack thereof).  I’m tired of the Detroit Redwings.  I’m tired of everything…

but Green Lantern.  And old friends.  And Extreme/King’s X doing a summer tour.  And day game baseball.  And bearhugs that’ll crack ribs.  And cashews.  And mangos.  And sand between my toes.  And Charles Bukowski.  And Jack Black.  And stawberies in my cereal.  And Hendrix’s ‘May this be love’.  And Boston Legal on DVD.  And rides around town to nowhere special.  And mornings on my balcony.  And faith.  And hope.  And love.  And sheer determination.