Baseball, beer, and bonding

Last month ended with baseball week - the Sox were in town for a three-game stand. They weren't up in Baltimore, where getting to and from the game van take as long as the game itself, they were inside DC. Needless to say, I was excited. I've made the trek up to Baltimore once a year since moving down here, which is actually more than I saw the Sox my last couple of years in Boston, when I had to choose between tickets or beer money. And they way things were going at work I deemed beer money a necessity. But I digress. Camden Yards is a great ballpark, but getting there is impossible if you don't have a car. Correction. Getting home is impossible. You can always take the MARC commuter train up there, but because evening commuters are headed away from DC, you can't catch a train home. So I convince my University of Maryland friends that they want to go to a game with me, which involves picking me up at the Metro and giving me a ride back at the end of the night. Less than optimal. You'd think that Baltimore, who lobbied so vehemently against the return of a Washington baseball team because it would cut into their fanbase, would make it easier for folks who live in the city to get to their park.

Anyway, the Red Sox. We know that I love them. One couldn't just buy tickets, however. The Washington Nationals knew that these games were a cash cow, and they made it difficult. At first, you could only get Sox tickets as part of a thirteen game package. That's right, you had to identify ten other times you'd like to see an almost certain conclusion. When they judged that they'd sold as many packages as they were likely to, they instituted a raffle for the chance to buy tickets to just the Sox games. I immediately got everyone I knew (who wasn't likely to want the tickets for themselves) to enter the raffle. It worked. Lady won a raffle slot, and we had a coffee date one morning when we bought tickets to all three games. And so it was that Daddo and I spent three glorious nights in June watching the Red Sox play ball here in DC. Each night we were joined by two other friends - Bill and Anna, a couple of my work buddies, and then Momola and my dad's dad, Pa to me, who grew up in Springfield, Mass. and has been a Sox fan all his life. (Though he felt honor bound to root for the home team, which I couldn't quite fathom. That was the night the Nats won, however, so maybe he knew something we didn't.)

Anyway, the games were great fun and the crowd made for lots of good stories, but the reason I was thinking about baseball here was because last week Daddo and I went to see the Cubs in town with the company tickets. You know, the good seats. And I was reminded of the week of games with him. We'd both head to the stadium, trying to call each other as we got there, missing calls over the din of the vendors, people, and loudspeakers. Instead we'd meet up at the seats, beer in hand - the man taught me my priorities, after all - and sit down to watch the crowd. If I didn't agree to trek for food before the game started I'd hear about it later when the lines were longer. We'd chat a bit, but as the heat kicked in and the games started we settled into the odd baseball or heat-related comment and comfortable silences (although, using the word silence when music was blaring and announcers were at top volume seems wrong). At some point around the seventh inning stretch, Daddo would turn and announce he was headed home at the end of the inning, facing a train ride to his car and the drive home from there. We were both hot and overwhelmed by noise by this point, so a quick 'good night' and we'd part company. We don't talk much during those evenings, but I love going to the games with Daddo. We sit next to each other and share the same experience, right down to the sweaty grossness that is DC summertime, and despite the sweat, the spilled beer or sausage-burned mouth, that obnoxious kid who's bound to sit behind you every so often, and the occassional foul bruise, it's pretty great.

-- Posted via iPhone.

Things I've learned...

...from my mother:

• Both worry and love transcend distance.
• Pasta sauce doesn't come out of a jar and mac'n'cheese doesn't come out of a box.

...from my father:

• Always keep iced mugs in the freezer. You never know when your beer will need that extra chill.
• "Drink beer, it's cheaper." These wise words were spoken to his 17 year old daughter as he dropped her off for her first year of college - rock on.

...from my sister:

• Uncomfortable shoes are never worth it, no matter what they look like. This is exactly opposite of the lesson she intended.

...from my brother:

• The importance of being exactly who you are.

...from Bruce Willis and Michael Ballack:

• Blood can be HHHot!

Obviously, this list goes on. I've learned lessons, good and bad, from most of the people I've met. However, I was thinking lately about life lessons, and these things came to mind.

Gramola and Grumpa!

The folks flew down to Florida today - they are visiting the Dumpster, and already loving it! Here's a picture of Grumpa playing with that baby while Gramola took a nap.That little boy looks pretty happy. Right now Meredith and Daddo are at a Red Sox game, while Momola watches (and spoils) the Dumpster. I'm jealous, but I sit here with a cuddly cat on my lap and watch the 2006 BBC version of Jane Eyre, and I'm content. It's been a long week, productive, but long, and I'll be glad when tomorrow is over. I've promised myself a quiet weekend, and I can't wait. Anyway, today hasn't left me with much excitement to share, but this picture made me smile, and I thought you would like to see the little boy who recently learned to say, "Auntie!"

jam-packed fun

Just a quick word - my weekend is crazy, so I won't be posting. Last night I took Daddo to the Washington Nationals game (it was his birthday!) and we watched some sloppy baseball in a great new ballpark - it was good fun! And I wasn't the only person there wearing a Red Sox cap, so there.

I'm about to run off to the zoo for some hours, and then I get to hop the Metro and head to the outer reaches, a.k.a. Northern VA. There's a family bbq this afternoon, and mom's making cherry pie - totally worth the Metro trip! An 80s cover band show tonight with some folks from work, and a send-off bbq tomorrow, and I'm tired just thinking about it! But it should be fun, and I'll be back home tomorrow with stories to tell, I'm sure...

PS - Meredith took Dumpster to his first baseball game this week - he loved it!! If only she'd remembered that box they call a camera!