Went to a bar to go meet up with friends and, besides the fact that they weren't there, the doormen at the bar wouldn't let me in. Didn't meet the dress-code standards and all that.

You know what, I don't want to go to those bars. They discriminate against sneaker wearers. They're anti-sneakerites and I'm not down with discrimination. Just because some of us actually prefer to wear sneakers over dress shoes because we're more comfortable in them is no reason to discriminate against us.

Besides, who wants to go to those kinds of bars? They're all full of people who are not only dressed up, but people who actually like to dress up. And they either have the money too or pretend they have the money too. And who wants to hang out with these people anyways.

Nope, give me my grungy dive bar anyday. Give me the type of wear that allows you to wear sneakers. And not only that, will allow you to walk in in shorts, t-shirt, baseball cap and flip-flops. Give me a place where people were black because black is cool and not because black is today's brown. So I say, fuck 'em.

I hate when you know a famous celebrity is sick, especially one you really like and wish only the best for, and then one morning you turn on the tv, see an interview with them on a channel they have no business being on. Then the only thing you can think of is, damnit:

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently wheeps
I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping
Still my guitar gently wheeps
I don't know why nobody told you how to unfold your love
I don't know how someone controlled you they bought and sold you
I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently wheeps
With ev'ry mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently wheeps
I don't know how you were diverted you were perverted too
I don't know how you were inverted no one altered you

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently wheeps
I look at you all
Still my guitar gently wheeps...

George Harrison
1943-2001

I'm having one of those bad computer days where almost every Web site I go to is either not downloading, won't completely download because of memory issues, can't log on, or (like what happened even to blogger.com) can't find posts and can't figure out an easy way to search through the junk. Then there's Hotmail which has just been a huge pain in the ass since the redesign awhile ago and which you have to wait at least ten seconds before you do anything because all of this fancy, shmancy Java stuff that's going off all over the place (and I won't even talk about the fact that it now takes you two clicks to get to your e-mail instead of one).

I've said this before and I'll say it again, every big time, hot shot Web Design for a major site should be forced to download their pages on a dial-up before they complete their design. Jesus H. Christ, downloading Web pages shouldn't make you want to throw your computer out the window.

Still don't feel better about getting that off my chest.

Completely missed it when the issue came out (for some reason), but Miss November in Playboy turns out to be the first Jewish centerfold. Not only that, she's from kind of where I grew up. As your typical, red-blooded Jewish male, I can't understate the amusement I find in all of this.

There's the jokes, of course. Like "what would your mother think" or "oy, what would Nana Fannie say?" Then there's the lucky Jewish guy who gets to date her telling his mom that while the good news is that his girlfriend is a nice Jewish girl, the bad news is that she's a Playboy Playmate. I'm not quite sure what the reaction would be as it's kind of the ultimate Jewish connumdrum.

All I can say too is that her temple's social events are probably that much more popular now. Not to mention the Yeshiva at the college she goes too. Any Singles Jewish mixer would probably be over-run with guys trying to test their luck. After all, she's hot, she's Jewish and wants to raise her kids Jewish. If she was blonde (she's brunette), dating her would be like the Jewish Dating Trifecta.

Went to get a haircut today to the place I always go to. Even though I've moved out my oldhood (the Haight) for my new hood, I don't know where to go in the Mission, so I still go back to Nice Cuts on the Haight. It's cheap and the haircut's always pretty good.

One of the things that I don't like about the place, though, is that most of the women who work there are Asian and don't speak English all that well. Which isn't much of a problem (although it always makes me kind of nervous when they cut my hair), but this time, I got some crazy woman who couldn't stop yammering away. Not only was she constantly babbling, but I couldn't understand a word of it. It wasn't just because of her bad english, but also because she kind of mumbled everything and I had the razor constantly buzzing in my ear. So I just sat there, nodded my head, laughed when I thought I should and said yes to whenever I thought she asked a question. What really scared me, though, was at one point she stopped when she stopped what shewas doing, went over to the front desk, and handed me a card for manicures/pedicures and facials.

I have no idea what the hell I said to deserve the card and didn't quite know how to get out of taking the card. All I could think about was when Jerry agreed to wear the Puffy Shirt on the Today Show because he couldn't understand the Low Talker.

I also had a flashback back to Thailand when I went to a few of those clubs (which is what you do when you go to Thailand). As I'm sitting there with my friend, all these half-naked Thai strippers/prostitutes would plunk themselves down next to me, start giving me a massage and try and start a conversation. I was kind of scared while talking to them because it was always really loud in the club, the Thai stripper's didn't speak great English and I was afraid that if I answered "yes" to what I thought was the question "how are you liking Thailand?" the next thing I'd know, I'd be taken into some room, stripped down to my skivvies and have my ass shaved.

No thank you.

Oh, and on the way home, some punk-ass kid had the MUNI window on a cold, wintery day so he could spit out some Sunflower seeds. Whenever I see something like that, I think of the scene in "Star Trek IV" where Spock does the Vulcan nerve pinch on the punk to get him to turn off his stereo. And then that radio station "The Bone" actually played Saga's "Tonight I'm on the Loose." Is that a good thing?

Sorry, double post.

Nothing to see here.

My writing group and I are having a long, e-mail discussion about the nature of selling out, commercialism and art. All that fun stuff. At one point, I said that it's all a fine line and that I'd know what's selling out or going totally cheesy when I see it, but that there's no hard and fast rules governing it.

For example, there is Creed. Creed is a band, one of the biggest one's in the world right now. I am neutral about them as part of me thinks I should have them, part of me gives them credit for having the balls to be what they are, and part of me finds it annoying that I can't get their new song out of my head. Creed has pretty obviously made it apparent that they want to be the biggest band in the world and are trying really hard to do so.

During the Cowboys/Broncos Thanksgiving Day football game, Creed did the half-time show. Now, it is impossible to retain any sort of dignity or maintain any hints of "cred" if you are doing a football half-time show involving lip-synching your biggest hits, hundreds of choerographed dancers dancing to them, men in skimpy outfits flying around on strings, and fireworks galore. Just forget it. Ain't happenin. Forget it Scott Stapp. There is nothing rock n' roll about football halftime shows. Whatever that little line is, they just crossed over it by a mile

And speaking of Creed, I saw Scott interviewed on MTV (am I a little weird for being 33 and still watching MTV?) and he was comparing their lack of critical respect to Led Zeppelin and how Zeppelin never got any respect until their fourth album. The whole time I'm watching the interview, I'm going "uh-oh, bad move, there buddy." My feelings were confirmed by the cut-back to the MTV Veejay, or newsguy or whoever it is who appears on screen, who had a look of utter disbelief on his face. Now, these are people who are paid to pretend that the latest O-Town release is a big deal and major cultural event, but even he couldn't take it.

In other words, goodbye Creed.

More mindless musings after flipping through the channels tonight:

1)The Bravo Channel had a special profile of Jon Bon Jovi. Isn't the Bravo Channel supposed to be all cultural and arty? I realize Jon is in the midst of a bit of a career comeback and that '80's hairbands are kind of in right now (but of course, in an ironic sort of way), but when did "You Give Love a Bad Name" become considered arty?

2)Speaking of which, I saw a video for the Scorpions doing a concert performance of "Rock You Like a Hurricane" with a full symphony orchestry. Nothing adds to the drama and intensity of lyrics like "The wolf is hungry\He runs to the show\He's licking his lips\He's ready to win\On the hunt tonight\For love at first sting" like a full orchestra. Poor musicians.

3)And I also saw that it's Pledge Week at KQED, the local PBS station. Don't we all love Pledge Week? Riddle me this, Batman- why, if they run shows that'll bring in a bigger audience for Pledge Week, don't they just run those shows regularly instead of the stuff that I guess nobody watches? And for some reason, KQED always shows a lot of self-help lectures. Like Tony Robbins kind of stuff except a bit more New Agey. What is KQED saying by running these shows, that their main audience needs help? And a lot of them are about investing, making more money and becoming successful. Who do they think watched KQED, a bunch of poor Latino's out in the Mission District? No, they're all a bunch of SUV driving Marin Yupsters who already make tons of money. Hate KQED.

So late last night, I was flipping through the channels and managed to catch a new MTV special, "Behind the Scenes of TRL" or "TRL Uncensored" or something like that. Most of it was basically an interview with the Dreamy One himself, Carson Daly and footage relevant to what Carson was saying. The part that I caught was involving some of the more difficult moments that Carson's had to deal with on TRL. The first bit I saw (and I came into the middle of this, so I might of missed a bit) was Carson relating the news of the tragic death of Joe C., Kid Rock's midget mascot.

Next up was Carson discussing his most difficult assignment, ever, interviewing Tara Reid. Tara is, of course, the blonde one (not the cool one, but the kind of bitchy one) in the "American Pie" movies who he was engaged to before she dumped him. Carson was going on to say how much fun it was to interview her for that cinematic masterpiece that was "Josie and the Pussycats" which was back when they were dating and making all the gossip columns for drunken behavior. Six months later, after she dumped him, she was back on the show being interviewed, along with the rest of the cast, for "American Pie II." Carson was discussing what a difficult thing it was for him to do and admittedly but then addmitted that no matter how difficult it was, he felt like it was his job not to show anything and that he had to do it because of the importance of TRL Yep, that Carson, kind of right up there with Dan, Tom and Peter, on air for hours Sept. 11th. What a trooper.

On the other hand, Tom, Peter and Dan never broke up with a blonde hollywood starlet and then have to interview them. Then again, she is kind of a skanky bimbo ho who looked much better before she went on the Calista Flockhart diet.

Yeah, it's the day after Thanksgiving, the day after Thanksgiving! Shop all you goyim, shop!

So, I was watching tv today and realized, through no fault of my own, that somehow, incredibly, I have never seen a Julia Roberts movie. Not one. Does this make me weird or something?

I'm back....

Today's Thanksgiving and I just checked my e-mail. No personal e-mails, which isn't a suprise, but I did get about twenty spam mails. On this day of giving thanks, I'd just like to give my thanks to people who see nothing wrong with spamming me messages about porn, viagra, and college diplomas on a National Holiday. There is a special place in hell for people behind things like this. Them and telemarketers and the people responsible for junk mial. And bicycle thieves. God, I hate bicycle thieves.

I'd also like to say that I spent this Thanksgiving at home, in San Francisco. For some reason, I thought it would be easy to to get a last minute air flight home, what with all these stories out about the airline industry being in trouble and nobody wanting to fly. But, alas, I saw that one-way tickets to Baltimore were going for over $700 bucks. Huh?
Didn't they just go whining to congress about how much money they were losing? Aren't they losing billions of dollars almost monthly? Weren't they spending the past couple of years trying to counter bad PR from unhappy customers? You'd think they'd of learned something from it, like they were losing money for pulling crap like that, but I guess not. Congress should of told them to take a flying leap, but then they'd never get anymore money from the airline industry. So nevermind

An oldie but goodie-

I wonder where they put Dick Cheney when he goes "under seclusion" during terrorist threats. I'm guessing they got him in some secure bunker somewhere, surrounded by guards deep underneath the Virginia countryside. But maybe they've gotten clever and put him someplace nobody would expect him to be. Like a Motel 6 in Fargo North Dakota. Or think about it for a second. Where would the last place you'd expect him to be? Yep, Berkely California. I'm thinking everytime they go into hide Cheney mode, they house him up in some fake, government sponsored co-op in Berkeley. Nobody would ever find him there.

Had an MRI done on my achey lower back yesterday. Went to the wrong hospital to start the day, but that's another story. When I got there, the guy who was in charge of the operation reminded me exactly like the Comic Book Store Guy in "the Simpsons," complete with goatee and beer belly. I half expected him to take a look at the MRI of my back and proclaim "Worst. Back. Ever."

When I was finished filling out the forms, I was taken to kind of a trailer in the parking lot by the hospital. To get into the trailer, they had to use an electric riser to get me up to the level of the door (your HMO money at work). The lady who runs it then takes me into the room and makes me lie down. From there, they put me into this long tube where they're supposed to zap me with whatever they use to zap people with during MRI's.

I'm not usually claustrophibic, but something about being shoved into a tiny, narrow tube kind of did it for me. They told me the whole thing was gonna last for about half an hour and I wished I could of brought a book or something. Since that wouldn't of worked due to the close confines of the tube, maybe they should install some sort of tv screen to the top of the tube so you could at least watch something.

The MRI, from my vantage point, is basically a long series of loud noises that gets blasted right into your ears. I have no idea exactly what the hell the point of the loud noises are and what the hell they have to do with looking at my back, but the noises are pretty loud. I kind of think it doesn't do anything, but it's just the ladies who run it way of having fun. You know, let's give him four minutes of the noise that sounds like a duck squawking and then follow that up with the jackhammer sound. Actually, most of it kind of sounds like those fake, plastic laser guns I used to play with as kids and could see them sitting there, playing video games all the while I was lying there. As the MRI wore on and as I got blasted by more and more sounds, I started to think about the scene in Monty Python's "Meaning of Life," the one in the hospital with the machine that goes bing. This machine doesn't just go bing, it goes whirrr and grrr and ack-ack-ack, all at top volume. Because of all the noises, you just know the machines are pretty darn expensive.

Flipping through the channels a bit tonight and kept on stumbling upon the Michael Jackson special. God, the ego of that man (or whatever he is). Takes a lot of balls to through yourself a tribute to yourself, I must say. I don't even have the balls to throw a party for myself on my birthday and he's throwing a tribute to himself at Madison Square Garden and bringing out Liza Minelli to sing one of his songs. Liza Minelli, woo-hoo!

Hopped on MUNI tonight and ran into my least favorite type of MUNI rider- the Non-Mover. This is the person who despite all the available space around them, doesn't move at all. So, they just stand there, with plenty of room around them, but cause all the people behind them to be smooshed into each other. This particular guy had at least five feet between him and the next closest person. The Non Mover usually causes one of two types of actions. One possible action is to somehow scrunch past them, which can sometimes only be done with the skills and flexibility of 15 year old Romanian gymnasts and can sometimes cause a snippy reaction from said Non-Mover. The other reaction is the creation of some sort of MUNI dam. How many times have you been on a bus or seen one of the underground trains where the middle or end section is completely open and the people in that section not only have room to breathe, but could probably do a Warrior III pose if possible, while everyone not in that section is busy inhaling each other's hair?

I think my second least favorite person is the Late Riser. This is the person who realizes at the last moment that this stop is there's and then panics to get out in enough time. This means that in order to do it, they pretty much bang into everyone on their way out and shove everyone aside. Pay attention people! Then there's the people who sit on the aisle side of the seat with an open window seat by them, yet don't move towards the window seat to allow people to have the seat. Unfortunately, most of the people who do something like that are just punk-ass kids and nobody wants to mess around with punk ass kids so nobody calls them on it.

And I'm not even going into the whole old Chinese Lady thing. Let's just say some of them are viscious

Okay, where were we.....

There's a guy I see in the 'hood (the Mission District to be precise) who is always wearing a kippot. While that isn't that strange, he is also wearing payos (the curls that come down from the temples that Orthodox Jews wear). He however, doesn't wear the traditional Orthodox Black or anything else that normally comes with the Orthodox, just the kippot and the payos. I even saw him at the local coffee shop with a Power Puff Girl notebook.

Somehow, it works for him. Whether it's the context of where he's wearing it, or just the fact that he looks like the normal Mission rat except for the Jew stuff, he somehow pulls it off. He has managed to make the religious look hip. It's his thing. Some people in the Mission wear leather jackets (well, a lot do) and get tattoos. Some pearce God (or should I say G-D) knows what and grow dreads or dye their hair and protest everything under the sun. Not this guy- he wears the kippot and the payos.

Betcha it even helps him get laid

Wow, it's a little over a year after last year's elections. Remember the good ole days when we were obsessed with things like hanging chads and butterfly ballots? Those were the days...

I wonder what Al Gore, late at night, thinks. Does he lay awake at night, dreaming of battles he'd of lead, speeches he'd of given, decisions he would of made, Presidential stuff he'd President or does he lie awake at night, give Tipper a hug and thank the good Lord that he lost?

And Joss Whedon is a frickin' genius.

In today's dark, scary world, with the holiday season bearing down upon us and unemployment angst filling my days and nights, I find myself only obsessed with one thing- the big musical Buffy extravaganza that's on tonight. I don't even know why I'm so psyched for a musical episode, but the reviews have been excellent and anyone who knows knows that when Buffy is good, it's damn good. I get mocked for watching it, feel slightly embarassed for being 33 and obsessed with it, and don't know that many other people who watch it, but "Buffy" kicks "West Wing," "The Practice" and all those other generic tv shows butts. It's not even close too. But enough about Buffy....

Here's today random musing- recently I read a story in the New York Times discussing how the bombing of Afghanistan is turning opinion against us. In the story, they quote various people from around the world, some in the Middle East who have their reasons for not supporting it, and one guy from Switzerland. And I'm thinking Switzerland? We're getting criticized by someone from Switzerland? Shouldn't they be banned from expressing they're opinion on anything? That's even lamer than someone from France criticizing us. At least France pretended to put up a fight, Switzerland's done nothing.

I've always wondered what a Swiss history class was like. I'm sure it's a quarter long class and the text book is around 100 pages. Kind of like that old joke about Greatest Jewish Heroes or Great British Cooks. What can the book say? Well, Napoleon came and tried to take over all of Europe and parts of the world and we did nothing. Then WWI came and millions of people died ghastly deaths over six miles of land in Belgium, and we did nothing (which, come to think of it, wasn't that bad of an idea). And then WWII started up, Hitler tried to take over the world and wipe out an entire race, and we didn't do anything. Actually, we did something. Our bands made a bunch of money off of it all. So, a lot of the money was stolen from people who were later gassed by the Nazi's, but we held fast to our principle of not doing a damn thing. Neutrality forever!

I think the best thing ever said about Switzerland comes from the great Orson Welles flick "The Third Man":
`You know what the fellow said: In Italy for 30 years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love--they had 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.''

And the country's really boring too.

I'll try not to write anymore about baseball, but all I can say is Bob Brenly is the luckiest man on the face of the earth. Schilling should never of been pitching the start of the 7th inning....

Went to the Savoy Tivoly on saturday night for a friend's bachelor party. Haven't been there in years and as I'm older and don't frequent bars like that anymore, I was never more aware of the fact that the place is just a big ole meat market. At one point this guy walks in, with immacutely coiffed hair who was wearing a polo shirt with a white sweater wrapped around his neck. Talk about hanging curve balls (ooops, sorry for the baseball illusion). So many comments overwhelmed me, I couldn't even begin. The only thing I was able to get out of my mouth was this, that he obviously had forgotten that James Spader usually was portrayed as the bad guys in all the 80's movies.

Damn kids these days, were too young to truly appreciate just how awful the '80s were.....

Just got back from an all day meditation session. It's all part of this Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction Program that I signed up on recommendation of my doctors. Today's class was about six hours of meditating, stretching, breathing, visualizing and "getting in touch with your body." I do feel better, more relaxed right now. More centered and at ease. But after six hours of all that visualizing your breath, reciting things like "I want to be mentally healthy" and trying to get in touch with your inner peacefulness, all I want to do right now is crank some Van Halen.

Yeah, we're runnin' a little bit hot tonight
I can barely see the road from the heat comin' off of it
You reach down, between my legs
Ease the seat back

She's blinding, I'm flying
Right behind the rear-view mirror now
Got the feeling, power steering
Pistons popping, ain't no stopping now

Aaaahhhhhhhh

Alright, one more things before I go….

There's someone running for election in San Francisco with the name Luigi Barassi. I think he's running for some really unimportant city position, the kind of position nobody cares about but actually has a lot to do with things that actually affect us. Anyways, everytime I see a flyer for him, I'm totally fascinated by his name. On the one hand, I admire him for running with, well, such an ethnic sounding name. Some ethnic names, after all, work much better than others (that famous deep thinker Dan Quayle once remarked that he never thought Mario Cuomo was a serious threat to win an election because "nobody would vote for anybody named Mario). On the other hand, everytime I hear his name, all I can think of is that he's sleeping with the fishes.

Few notes about Game 6 of the World Series. Didn't mean to write so much about baseball, but Jesus Fucking Christ, the past two games have been unbelievable. Baseball, at it's best is a big, huge fat oversized opera and the past two games have been pure Wagner, except not in German and with no fat lady signing. Yet.

Oh, by the way, I, once again, didn't watch the game. Or at least missed the ending as I had a soccer game. This is just from what I read and saw over and over on the highlights. I swear I'm not going to miss a second of the next two games. Well, I have to miss part of Game 6, but you get my point.

1) Two words sum up the Yankees: fucking unbelievable. Just fucking unbelievable. I wrote earlier how hard it is to root for them because they win in such a coldly and efficiently way that they're no fun. It's like, as someone once said, rooting for IBM. An even better analogy came from someone on ESPN.com who compared them to the Borg. After the past couple of games, you just have to give them their props. I'm awed and I'm sure a lot of other die-hard Yankee haters are too. They are nothing except the ultimate team and in this day and age, that's considered boring. People rooted for the Bulls because of Jordan and only because of Jordan. The Yankees are Jordan.

2) I think the picture of BK Kim squatting on the mound after giving up Brosius home run is one of the saddest pictures I've ever seen related to sports. You even can see that afterwards, when he was being consoled by his teammates, that he looked to be on the verge of crying. Poor kid. I feel so bad for him. In the space of 24 hours, he looses two games, two World Series games in just horrible, gut-wrenching ways. Not only that, the poor kid is 22, barely speaks English and as the first Korean born player to make it to the World Series, has a whole country rooting for him. I hope that when this is all over and if the Yankees win, Kim doesn't go down as the goat. I really hope he doesn't become another Buckner or Williams or Scott Norwood, players who unfairly have become associated by blowing it. In fact, it would be really classy if the Arizona fans give him a huge standing ovation before the next game.

In a way, he's really lucky. The D-Backs aren't a real team and don't play in a real sports town. If anybody cares, really cares about them in Phoenix, I'd be surprised. Which is good for Kim. Just imagine how bad it would be if he played for a New York team, or for the Phillies or, good heavens, the Red Sox. I think if he played for the Red Sox and all of this happened to them, I think the entire collective Red Sox nation would be committing suicide en masse. They chased Buckner out of town and it wasn't really his fault the Sox lost. Imagine what they'd do to poor Kim

3) For the record, I thought Brenly was pretty ballsy in having Schilling pitch Game 4 and made the right call. Same with taking him out at the end of the 7th. There was no way, however, that Kim should have been pitching the 10th. As for whether he should have pitched in Game 5, who knows?

4) One of the best parlor games in baseball is if you were a baseball player, what would your theme song be? Every ball player has their theme song now, even the lackey minor league call up whose just filling out the string on the second to last game of the season. I'm not sure what mine would be (although always thought "Brickhouse" would be kind of cool because "Brickhouse" is always cool) , but I do know that the all-time coolest one is the playing of the opening of "Baba O'Riley" for Paul O'Neill whenever he comes up to bat for the third time (why the third time?). It's usually late in the game, the game is close and O'Neill, who is the heart of soul of the Yankees team, always seems to be coming up for an important at-bat. He appears, the song starts, and the place just rocks. They always seem to let him stand there, letting the place roar just enough so the infamous three chords can be played a few times (which, is, of course, one of the reasons every game seems to last forever). And while you can say a lot of things about Yankees fans, besides the fact it's pretty fucking easy to root for them, the standing ovation for him in the bottom of the ninth, accompanied by the endless chanting of his name, was one of the most incredible, classy things I've ever seen or heard of at a sporting event. I have no idea how he managed to get through the inning without breaking down there and then. Both are goosebump moments (that is, if I actually watched the game and saw it. I would of so loved to of been at Yankees stadium for those games).

5) Fox just sucks. They should have their license to show sporting events revoked on account of being lame. Any network that makes a point of showing Tom Arnold in the stands should lose their broadcasting license. And it's not really a big, important baseball game anyways without Bob Costas. Fox should of shelled out the big bucks to get him, like they did with Madden & Summeral when they got the NFL from CBS way back when.

6) Okay, I love baseball. It's my favorite sport by far. Which puts me in the minority, especially for my age. To me, baseball is part of me and I'm part of it- my attachment to it is deep and (sadly) unconditional. True baseball fans can see the game almost mystically and that's how I can see it. To the average fan, it's just a game, but to the serious fan (the kind who actually get misty going to they're first game at Wrigley Field and seeing Harry Carrey pop out of the window to lead the crowd in "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" - which I didn't do, but I'm just using it as an example and the wind was blowing towards us that day and I think I got some sand in my eyes), there's so much more going on. It's like when you watch a game, you see things and understand things that other people just can't see or feel. And when you understand it, you know that baseball is truly unique, a sport unlike any other.

The past couple of games have proven it, shown just what makes baseball so special. These series games have incredible subtext, a tragic figure, managing decisions that will be debated and talked about forever, so many compelling figures involved, and more incredible endings than any soap opera. Here it is, three games played in the sport's most hallowed grounds involving the most storied and successful franchise in sports, set against the backdrop of the tragic events on Sept. 11th, just 12 miles from the stadium. And here we have the three time defending World Series champion probably playing together for the last time, and with their backs against the wall yet again. Facing them are a young team with awful purple uniforms, but with two of the best pitchers to ever pitch, both of them who are completely likeable, total warriors, and certainly the toughest challenge ever thrown at the champs. And twice, just on the verge of defeat, the defending champs rallied to win.

As a series builds and develops, it unfolds like a movie- themes, plots, subtexts develop slowly , building and building towards it's climax. Usually, it doesn't really turn into much, like last year or the year before, but everyone once in awhile, it folds into something completely magical. This series has been magical.

No other sport ends with such drama as baseball. Take last night's game. For much of it, the Yankees were completely asleep, unable to do much of anything but stay in the game. Then somehow, a hit here, a hit there, they're back in it. And there's nothing as dramatic as a late inning. The flash, the anticipation, followed by either sheer exhilaration and celebration or total, devastating heartbreak. I'm not saying that the same isn't true of football (as a Browns fan, I know all about sport heartbreaks) or basketball, but nothing quite has the sheer drama of a well-played World Series game.

Alright, back to the humour…..

Just saw an article in the NY Times about vehicle sales being the highest ever for October. Wanna bet most of those sales were not for small, fuel efficient vehicles? Typical, just typical. Here we are in a really ugly situation, one partly caused by our overreliance on oil and we're all off buying gas-guzzling SUV's. Didn't someone once say "ask not what the country do for you, but what you can do for your country?" You can just see Dick and W. giving speeches about how much we need to ween ourselves off of oil and gas-guzzling cars. Right......

Typical baseball luck, they have a game for the ages, the kind of game that shows off what it is that makes baseball so incredible,yet it's on Halloween night so nobody's watching. Even when something good happens to the game, it gets screwed up anyways. Needless to say, I missed the game. Went to bed the night of Game 6 in '86 and missed that too.

And today's political note is on the supposed FBI Warning about being on High Alert for Terrorist Threats. I really do hope it was based on serious and credible evidence. My theory is that Bin Laden and all his cronies are just sitting around their cave, bored to death because it's not like they can really leave their cave and deciding to have a little fun with us. So one of Bin Laden's flunkies thinks it'll be really fun to watch us squirm, so makes a prank call and then next thing you know, Ashcroft is on tv, with that I'm trying really hard not to look totally overwhelmed and scared look of his, giving us warnings. And meanwhile, they're yucking it up in that cave of theirs, like a bunch of bored teenagers who just phoned in a bomb threat.