With just a hint of Autumn...

It is late as I finish catching up on this past season's "The Killing" while keeping an eye on the Sox-Yanks score on my iPhone.

The windows are open in the kitchen and I can hear the handful of dried leaves as they scrape their way along on the concrete patio outside. Sitting in my living room, I can feel the breeze that coincides with the raspy sound.

It sounds like an early October in Boston where I lived for so many years. There, the house was off of a pond and several of the homes had working fireplaces - a smell I love. When a good breeze struck any of the many trees that appeared as if on fire, any of the leaves void of moisture would make a valiant attempt to cling on. The resulting sound was like that of a giant toy rattle.

When Fall was well underway, there were times I took the B Line train to the terminus at Boston College just so I could make the walk down Lake St. to my home. During those cool and dusky early evening strolls, I would take in the sounds and smells of a New England autumn.

Now, in Brooklyn, I await my 47th autumn with an odd anticipation. Odd? Regular season baseball is winding down (Red Sox victorious over the Yankees 9-8 in 10 innings!) and Yankee fans are nervous. Odd? Some air conditioners are still running; I can only assume poor room air circulation as the reason. Odd? A curiously contentious mayoral race.

Basta!

I love this time of the year even if I don't have the scent of burning wood in the air and as many trees as I used to have. Even if I'm not in New England proper.

And maybe it's time for me to resurrect that fire pit project...

"Words, words. They're all we have to go on."

For someone who disliked English language classes in school (but no where on the same level as mathematics), I've grown quite fond of the power of words.  Quite recently, I participated in a reading of Tom Stoppard's "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead," one of my absolute favorite 'modern' plays thanks in large part to a film version starring Gary Oldman and Tim Roth. Tom Stoppard's plays are, when executed well, marvels to watch but especially to read because of his command of language.

To follow is a simple exchange from the first act:

GUILDENSTERN: Where are you going?

PLAYER: Ha-lt! (Tragedians halt and turn.) Home, sir.

GUILDENSTERN: Where from?

PLAYER: Home. We're traveling people. We take our chances where we find them.

GUILDENSTERN: It was chance then?

PLAYER: Chance?

GUILDENSTERN: You found us.

PLAYER: Oh, yes.

GUILDENSTERN: You were looking?

PLAYER: Oh, no.

GUILDENSTERN: Chance, then.

PLAYER: Or fate.

GUILDENSTERN: Yours or ours?

PLAYER: It could hardly be one without the other.

Concise and exact. A beginning, middle, and end. And a turn on what most people conceive as obvious yet forgetting the other half. On balance, the forgotten other constant of the universe - change. 

Philosophical. Deep. Call it whatever you want.  I'm only grateful that these words exist. In the order that they exist.

Because when all is said and done, it's what we'll have.

Vogon poetry

See, see the sacrificing sky
Marvel at its big neon green depths.
Tell me, Michael do you
Wonder why the shar pei ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel lethargic.
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your gerndenduk facial growth
That looks like
A mayo.
What's more, it knows
Your kumquat potting shed
Smells of moss.
Everything under the big sacrificing sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You only charm seafoods.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/vogonpoetry/lettergen.shtml

"Vogon poetry is of course the third worst in the Universe. The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning" four of his audience members died of internal hemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council, survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos is reported to have been "disappointed" by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his twelve-book epic entitled My Favorite Bathtime Gurgles when his own major intestine, in a desperate attempt to save life and civilization, leaped straight up through his neck and throttled his brain. The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator, Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Greenbridge, Essex, England, in the destruction of the planet Earth." - Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, Douglas Adams

9 May 2013, 14:04...

The guitar solo of Blue Oyster Cult's "Don't Fear The Reaper" comes wafting in through the open fourth floor window I'm near from the street below.

Still sounding as fresh as it did back in 1975, the added reverb of the original recording is enhanced by natural echo off the buildings on Lexington Ave. on the Upper East Side. Buck Dharma's playing, which already cuts through the track, slices through the rest of the street sounds.

And it just feels so right.

Have music, will travel...

I like to drive. Sometimes very fast. I always thought of it as race, not against other drivers, but a clock. Truth is, however, I began driving out of necessity and not for the thrill of being in control of a machine.  Most in our country do but cities such as New York bypass it completely. As a military brat, I spent my formative years living in the Nürnberg area of what was then West Germany. My family had a car but it was routine for my friends and I to hop on the Straßenbahn or U-bahn to get around. I developed an appreciation for public transportation long before getting behind the wheel of a car.

Still, I like driving - when I can.  And when I do, I tend to prefer longer drives that average two or more hours. Especially in twilight or dusk when there aren't as many drivers out there. Kind of like a sailing vessel with the stars (when you can see them) overhead.

Before my move to Boston in the late Eighties, driving was the time I could sing along to my music and, in some cases, rehearse vocal parts as I was playing in a band at the time. Having become addicted to driving, I thought my acclimation to public transportation would be difficult - it wasn't. I felt right at home and now I had the benefit of the trusty Walkman I picked up in Germany or the subsequent replacements to keep me company. I still had my music.  Depending on my mood, I'd pop in whatever album or mixed tape I had. It was crazy as I packed as many as (gasp) three cassettes into my backpack. So at any one time, I had four and a half hours of music!

How I chuckle now as I plug into my iPhone on my travels and noting that, while still not completely full, I now carry 6.66 (repeating) days worth of music on a daily basis. Music of most genres. Music to fulfill the need of my then present mood.

And when you see me, you may observe my lips forming sung lyrics or fingers and feet following drum parts or following the fingering of a guitar or bass part - left or right hand and sometimes both at the same time.

Still I try to be reserved doing this so as to not draw attention. Or at least that's the goal. I am not always successful as I notice eyes on me.

And if she happens to be attractive, I won't mind at all...

Selected images

The following images have not been edited... 

Williamsburg

Harlem

Upper West Side

Newark, New Jersey - 6:21 a.m.

From the train (Baltimore to NYC) - via Hipstamatic

From the train (Baltimore to NYC) - via Hipstamatic

Brooklyn Navy Yard

Park Slope

Coney Island - New Year's Day

The Supervisor

Reader - 6 Train

Sleeper - 6 Train

Civic Center

Coat - 5 Train

57th St.

It is so very nice...

...to sleep with an open window.

Unlike those who would prefer a constant 'comfortable' climate, I must have all of my seasons. It helps me experience a year in a way that looking at a calendar does not.

Yes, there may be times where the weather can become intolerable but it makes me appreciate the stretches of sheer bliss. Contrast always helps to achieve a healthy perspective - balance. The universe functions as a result of balance and our experiences, personal or collective, reflect that. This past week has sadly been one of an abundance of tragedy, fear and stupidity - a display of things out of balance.

Yesterday, the Senate failed to pass a measure that expanded background checks for gun purchases despite support for said measure by an overwhelming majority of Americans including gunowners themselves. Special interest (or fear of special interest) won the day over compromise, logic and the duty to "establish Justice" and "insure domestic Tranquility." Even if the measure may not have been the best it could be, it would have been one step. It mattered not as those individuals who have been elected opted to side against the will of the people, to side with those who feel the right to acquire firearms of any kind should not be fettered.

Where is the compromise? Where is the balance?

17th century Japanese swordsman Miyamoto Musashi wrote, "Do not collect weapons or practice with weapons beyond what is useful."

"...beyond what is useful."

Is that really asking for too much?

I guess it is...

Opening Day 2013

The 2013 Major League baseball season began last night as the Houston Astros hosted the Texas Rangers. The Astros defeated the Rangers by a score of 8-2 thanks in part to Rick Ankiel's three-run homer in sixth inning.

Now you're probably asking yourself, "Wasn't this an exhibition game? I mean, for it to be part of the regular season, isn't this too early for an Inter-League game? I don't understand. Have the schedule makers lost their minds? Again?!" The answer is no as the Houston Astros are now part of the American League West. There is indeed no more a constant thing than change.

The rest of the openers will take place today and tomorrow. And of special note, New York City will be host to two openers on the same day since April 17, 1956. On that day, the New York Giants beat the Pittsbugh Pirates 4-3 at the Polo Grounds while the Brooklyn Dodgers lost to the Philadelphia Phillies 8-6 at Ebbetts Field - the Yankees host my beloved Red Sox (I don't expect much this year but I'll be here for them) while the Mets host the San Diego Padres.

Both parks are gone now and in their place, apartment buildings. And the teams have called California home since 1958. And for you, a then-and-now comparison as offered by the New York Daily News:

Number of baseball teams in New York:
1956: 3
2013: 2

Hot dog:
1956: 5 cents
2013: $6.25

Most expensive seat:
1956: $3 (Ebbets Field)
2013: $300 (Yankee Stadium)

Highest paid player:
1956: Duke Snyder, $44,000 (Brooklyn Dodgers)
2013: Alex Rodriguez, $29 million (New York Yankees)

National League leader in innings pitched:
1956: Bob Friend, 314.3
2012: R.A. Dickey, 233.7 

Play ball!

16 January 2013, 5:37pm

I was running late. So much so I nearly ran over a woman heading down into the subway at the same time. In my defense, she had decided to walk down the center of one of those narrow subway entrances that allow for only two to pass by without issue. What compels someone to occupy the whole of a space unnecessarily?

And as it happens, my Metro card failed on the first swipe but it mattered not as there was no train to rush to. Second swipe - success. Now, to make it to the desired waiting place. Yes, I am aware of which car to get on to facilitate the fastest egress from both the train and station - I am one of those.

I approach my spot and after a few seconds hear a sound. Wheeling around, I see two of the big dark-colored garbage bags set against the wall and both are tied up well. A quick focus shows me the ground in the space in front of where the bags meet is wet. I look up and think to myself there must be a leak as the intermittent sound continues. It was then that I noticed out of my peripheral vision that one of the bags shuddered.

I look down and see the bag move again. The movement subsided. Then again. This time, the movement revealed itself as bulge making its way to another section of the bag. It was indeed a rat for sure and from the size of the bulge, a rather large, one roughly seven inches in length (18-19 cm for you metric readers).

The immediate thought that entered my head as I looked on was that this particular rat was carrying on foraging for whatever food it could get as opposed to what would have been the natural human instinct to escape from a similar predicament. Did this rat actually not have situational awareness? I then pondered how long it would take for this trapped rodent to switch from feed to flee.

And for whatever reason, it reminded me of a woman I had, kind of, started to see that for me seemed like another life ago. She literally could not see 'the trees for the forest.' At a early enough age, I realized I had situational awareness and could maneuver through crowds. She, sadly, could not and I freely admit that I could not spend any time with a woman like that no matter how cute she was. Yes, I stopped seeing her because she couldn't walk through a crowd. Seems petty but what if we needed to get out of a place fast? That's important to me. You might think me shallow to conjure up a character defect like that but it does speak to fundamental analytical processing. And, yes, I am most certain I have failings others have observed...

She laughed off her cluelessness with what seemed almost zen. I had wanted to admire her for that except that in a very short time, this clearly annoyed me. And for whatever processing I engaged in at the time, I found this life-threatening. How insane that thought? Maybe this woman will be the death of me!

The blow of the train's horn broke my connection to that memory. I looked at the bag to see one last shake of the bag. Odd that I didn't hear the oncoming rumble.

Odd that I remembered her.

Odd what triggers specific memories.

I board the train to carry me on nearer towards my intended destination and I think that trapped rat is a survivor and will make it out of the bag. Maybe not in the station but maybe at the landfill which for a rat might be Shangri-La.

Then I think, "Better in a subway station than my home."

A non-random find

It is something

A nothing and everything

A thing without form

A sense of something

Perhaps that which to hold on

Never, never there

Absence - no such thing

Emptiness cannot exist

Always the other

Do or not - a choice

Yes, the simplest of all

No, par to the task

Now a present breeze

Not all leaves go the same way

Always moving, always

Then each comes to halt

Not nothing ceases at being

A state of change

In a truth, a point

Then noise returns in whisper

And motion again

I found this scribbled in a small notebook I used as a phonebook back in the late 80's. But it is in my hand; I don't know...

The recollection of the moment fails me...

REVIEW: "Hyde Park on Hudson"

I thought, rather foolishly, that I would be able to watch "The Hobbit" on Christmas Day. Instead, I enjoyed my stroll to the theatre only to find it was sold out (and very busy) but along my 1.7 mile trek happened to pass the Cobble Hill Cinemas. I turned around and headed back home. On my return, I  thought, "What's playing there?"

Retracing my steps, I discovered a crowd like the one I encountered at the not-quite-megaplex for "Les Miserables" and "Django Unchained." Thankfully, "Hyde Park on Hudson" did not attract the same attention and I was able to settle in.

A curious film directed by Roger Michell, it tells the story of an affair between President Franklin D. Roosevelt (Bill Murray) and his sixth cousin, Margaret Suckley (Laura Linney). The story is built around Suckley's private journals and diaries which were discovered after her death in 1991. Up until then, there had been no evidence that an affair took place unlike Roosevelt's affair with Lucy Mercer during World War I.

Set in June 1939, Suckley is called to visit Roosevelt and provide him company at the family country estate in Hyde Park, NY at the insistence of FDR's mother. While FDR and Margaret, who's nickname is Daisy, grow closer, the major event to fall upon them is the visit by King George VI (Samuel West) and Queen Consort Elizabeth (Olivia Colman). This was the first time a British monarch had visited the United States - ever.

Roosevelt's mother, Sara Delano (Elizabeth Wilson), and Eleanor Roosevelt (Olivia Williams) duel over the control of many of the activities of the house including details of the state visit. One item of contention is the famous serving of hot dogs to royalty that Ms. Delano finds completely unfathomable. In the film, the hot dog is a matter of great discussion between the King and Queen. While the matter is very serious to all the parties involved, it is very humorous to watch. (The menu of that picnic can be found here.)

The film is balanced between the story of the romance between FDR and Suckley and the almost separate movie of the royal visit but I never once got the sense that it didn't work. To me it plays very much like a diary entry except that there's a small stretch there where Suckley has no presence which does take a bit away from her as an observer. There is also the growing relationship between FDR and the King. One scene after a dinner, the King tells FDR that he was not wanted by the people. FDR's responds, "I did not know they voted for that."

This is a quiet, curious, enjoyable movie to watch and while not nearly as compelling to view as "The King's Speech," the performances are very good and you believe these characters as they are. Murray is really impressive as FDR. And while Samuel West will draw comparisons to Colin Firth's George, it is truly of no matter. I can't leave out Ms. Linney - she is wonderful to watch.

For my part, the hobbyist historian in me will want to see this again. And I hope you do too.

"Hyde Park on Hudson"
Director: Roger Michell
Writer: Richard Nelson
Starring: Bill Murray, Laura Linney, Olivia Williams, Samuel West, Olivia Colman, Elizabeth Marvel, Elizabeth Wilson

Rineke Dijkstra

As someone who has fairly recently taken their interest in photography to the next-ish level, I was curious to check out "Rineke Dijkstra: A Retrospective" on exhibit at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum. This was also my first visit to 'the Guggenheim.' Hey, the Upper East Side is kind of annoying commute-wise.

Ms. Dijkstra photographs using a 4x5 large format camera (a type of view camera) which is not much different than the first commercially available cameras back in the mid-19th century except with the obvious technological advancements. Her work is primarily portraiture especially as a series.

The exhibit is spread out over several galleries within the museum and first series one encounters are the Beach Portraits she began in 1992. Others who were in attendance seem to be taken by them but I was not among them - I found this group of portraits lacking. Perhaps they looked too much like a straightforward vacation photograph where the subject is dead center and not much going on anywhere else. And I was also reminded of the disturbing American Apparel advertising campaign(s). Even as I write this, I still struggle with how to convey my lack of connection to these images - there was just  'something.'

But I must tell you that the other series on display are very compelling. Olivier follows a young French male taken over four years and his enlistment in the French Foreign Legion and subsequent postings. Almerisa chronicles a Bosnian refugee over a decade and a half beginning as a child of six transitioning to motherhood. The bullfighters who have just emerged from the ring with blood on their clothes and faces. Young Israeli soldiers from their civiliam lives to induction. I was intrigued by the park series taken in Amsterdam, Brooklyn and Madrid especially the Tiergarten series taken in Berlin.

Dijkstra has also done video work and some of these are also on display in various rooms. One series depicts teenagers at dance clubs in which they simply dance in front of the camera. Grumpy Old Man alert! My lack of tolerance for what passes for dance music these days precluded me from giving the video the attention it deserved but still not enough that I cared for it. That being said, one series of videos was displayed split screen so the added information of 'change' allowed me to take it in further than I would have.

Another series of videos involved school children at the Tate Liverpool. Ruth Drawing Picasso, a schoolgirl really zoned in on her sketching of Picasso's Dora Maar Seated - watching her refocus after various distractions is endearing. Another video, I See A Woman Crying, captures the observations of a group of schoolchildren as they look upon Picasso's Weeping Woman - it's really fascinating as well as entertaining.

Overall, very interesting. And, indeed, something to be experienced especially the large format portraits - viewing the images online simply cannot provide the grandeur of the moments captured. Unless, of course, your display is a 60"high-definition television.

"Rineke Dijkstra: A Retrospective" at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, June 29 -  October 8.

A new season...

The 2012 Major League Baseball season is in full swing (officially started last week with the Opening Game played in the Tokyo Dome, Japan).

Lots of interesting changes in the off-season including the managerial change for my Red Sox. Taking over is the ever-entertaining Bobby Valentine. The only thought that runs through my head is what disguise will he assume when he's ejected from a game?

I don't expect the Red Sox to do well this season. The Yankees are the Yankees but... Tampa Bay will be tough - some writers are saying they have the best starting rotation in the AL East. Still, predictions are that calling for the Sox to contend. I'm a realist so this is one where I will be pleasantly surprised if they do indeed make it - still can't erase the memory of the nightmare double-feature of Sept. 28, 2011 (and still, I wasn't that surprised).

But it was great baseball/theatre!

A few new things for 2012:

• Expanded post-season with two wildcard teams; the respective division winners will get a bye as the two wildcards play a single-elimination game to decide who moves on.
• The Florida Marlins are now the Miami Marlins in brand new Marlins Park and they have a new look - the jury (read: my eyes) is still out.
• Jonathan Papelbon is closing for the Phillies - I'm okay with that one.
• The American League will now feature two prolific sluggers in Albert Pujols with the Los Angeles Angels and Prince Fielder with the Detroit Tigers - that should drive attendance and fear.
• The Los Angeles Dodgers have new ownership - I still think they should be moved back to Brooklyn and how awesome would that be?
• A new five-year labor agreement - pretty straightforward if you care to read it.

And close to my heart, Fenway Park turns 100 years old. I mean, that's pretty cool that Fenway's still around. Hell, Yankee Stadium was euthanized at 85!  So the oldest ballparks?

• Fenway Park, Boston - 1912
• Wrigley Field, Chicago - 1914
• Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles - 1962
• Angels Stadium, Anaheim and Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum, Oakland - 1966
• Kauffmann Stadium, Kansas City - 1973

Also at 100 years old? The sinking of the Titanic.

Just thought you should know.

REVIEW: "Richard III"

I often tell people that "King Lear" is my favorite of all the Shakespeare plays but the dirty truth is that "Richard III" is the one I most enjoy. I have seen neither performed on the stage until now. This production features no less than Kevin Spacey in the lead role and, honestly, who wouldn't want to see that?  I'm here to let you know that you won't be disappointed should you get the chance to see the latest Brooklyn Academy of Music's (BAM) Bridge Project production directed by Sam Mendes.

That being said, all is not entirely well...

While the production as whole appears well done, the same cannot be said of the cast and that actually includes Mr. Spacey himself.  That is to say, watching this "Richard" left me with a feeling that I had seen two different shows performed simultaneously.

I was let down watching the scene I most wanted to see, Act 1, Scene II in which Richard seduces Lady Anne in front of her dead husband. Mind you, the man Richard himself killed! In my opinion, this scene is arguably one of the most difficult to perform and requires a nuance that only seasoned actors can bring to the stage. And I did not see that in our Lady Anne, played by Annabel Scholey, always operating at one level and never conveying the required grief, hatred, shock, outrage, bewitchment, and submission (yes, in that order and, yes, I may have left something out) that the audience not only needs to see, but feel. Unfortunately, Ms. Scholey's Lady Anne was no match for Spacey's Richard. It must be said, however, that 'Lady Anne' acquits herself somewhat in the second act but curiously as a ghost - hmm.

I did think it was really odd that two adult women were cast as the doomed princes. They clearly looked like two adult women dressed in schoolboy uniforms - visually, it just didn't work.

The rest of the cast seemed to be overshadowed by Mr. Spacey's over-the-top performance which bordered parody at times including the physical presentation of Richard - mangled leg in a brace with a prominent humpback (it reminded me of Roger "Verbal" Kint and Jimmy at times). It bothered me that some of the lines were delivered with a nudge, nudge, wink, wink aspect that elicited laughter from the audience. It really felt out of place - kind of like the wave at Fenway Park. C'mon people! It's not a comedy. But maybe that was Mr. Spacey's fault.

So, there I am sitting through the first act dazzled by the awesomeness of Kevin Spacey's presence on stage but equally perplexed by both the seemingly lack of presence by the rest of the cast AND Kevin Spacey occasionally taking Richard to an unnecessary level. But something happened on the way to intermission. It became the "Richard III" I wanted to see!

The first clue came in the scene in which the ailing King Edward asks everybody to reconcile; it is cleverly done as a photo op. Later on, the scene in which Richard is petitioned to take power as king is brilliantly executed. And it is from this point, that the show achieves a consistency well worth seeing.

Again, while many of the cast continue to be outshined by Mr. Spacey during the second act, Haydn Gwynne, as the wronged Queen Elizabeth, gives as good as she gets when Richard asks, then demands, that she speak to her daughter for her hand in marriage. The production as a whole seems to finally find its soul and achieve equilibrium after intermission. And it finishes strong; the play runs so smoothly that you don't even feel the three hours that it takes to perform.

Be forewarned there is a particularly grisly scene. And while I know this review comes off as not-a-ringing endorsement, you will most certainly be entertained.

"Richard III" by William Shakespeare. At the BAM Harvey Theatre, 651 Fulton St., Brooklyn; running now through March 4th.

Steve Jobs 1955-2011

So much has been said about Steve Jobs and so much more will be said in the coming days. And I know he had the capacity to be a difficult person but he had a drive and a vision like no other.

His attention to detail made you love whatever Apple product you owned.  While working as a Genius in a Boston-area Apple Store, a customer, a young lady I became friends with, actually kissed her 12" PowerBook as we finished the paperwork to send it in for Mail-In service and said, "Please, take care of my baby."  Do you know anybody who kisses their Dell goodbye? I didn't think so.

I still have every Apple product I ever purchased or was given as an Apple employee and though they may be non-functional or old, they mean something to me.

This feels like when I heard John Lennon was shot or when I saw Challenger explode on live television.

I had previously written on Les Paul when he passed away and I'll say this about Steve Jobs too: We've lost an American original.

He, too, will be missed.

One of my favorite things...

Hearing someone laugh at a Monty Python sketch they may not have seen before (sketch begins at 0:31)...

Yep - we're still here...

I thought about what I wanted to say and in almost every way, it came out mean. So I will just say this:

I may not be right, but if you believed that our world would end yesterday, you were wrong.

Honor - RIP

You have no honor if you can't follow through on your words...

You are not worthy of consideration as you consider no one else...

We will be better off when you are gone...

Added 5/22

And thanks for waking us up by bringing a prostitute into our home yesterday morning...

It is...

...so very nice to sleep with an open window...

Next year's here

The true sign that Spring has arrived - Opening Day!...

To me, no other diversion travels along the path of a year like baseball does.  Think of the names used to describe baseball during its season: Spring Training, Boys of Summer, Fall Classic, Hot Stove League (curiously, a term used to describe the one time of the year there is neither baseball played nor a league to even speak of). Baseball is my other calendar. I would like to think that if I ended up in a coma, woke up and saw the World Series was playing on the television, I would, at the very least, know it's late October. Then I'd reach for my iPhone for the exact date - let's hope I don't have amnesia...

This past winter, I tried to not pay much attention to the baseball press. I wanted to enjoy the upcoming season with the wonder of ignorance. Some news was unavoidable such as Derek Jeter's contract talks, my Red Sox signings of Carl Crawford and Adrian Gonzalez, the pursuit of pitcher Cliff Lee who ended up re-signing with the team that traded him away. Short of the major news, I avoided going online to Major League Baseball's website.  

While not completely successful, I think I will enjoy watching games where I will utter to friends, "Who the hell is this guy and where did he come from?" Last year was like that watching my Red Sox as injuries crippled them and many 'kids' were brought up to fill positions. Like the saying, I really did need a lineup card to know who the players were.

Now I don't have to try avoidance as today is the first day of Spring - my Spring. Still, I chuckled at my attempt at not keeping up with the Hot Stove League and it reminded me of lyrics in the King Crimson song "Indiscipline":

I was so involved, I didn't know what to think

I carried it around with me for days and days

Playing little games

Like not looking at it for a whole day

And then... looking at it

To see if I still liked it

I did!

Go Sox!