Marytown, IL

Off to retreat #2. Pray for us! Back on the 11th.

i am not titled

First, a link that connected with a conversation I had over the weekend, about how people of color can get to feeling sometimes. I seem to react to three groups of people: white people, because I want to prove that I'm just as good/better than they are, other Korean Americans, because I want to prove that I'm better than they are by being equally adept in the mainstream and in my niche culture, and everybody else. Who knows. Maybe I should just not think about this stuff and I'd be happier about it, but it never works out that way.

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I'm going to try and finish the U2 primer in mid-July, after the next retreat. I'd rather not push it into August, or else I don't think I'll get it done at all.

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The word All-Star doesn't make any sense to me. You're one of all the stars? Why aren't you just a star, then? I'm lost. Anyway, the almost-final rosters were revealed on Sunday, and Ozzie and Phil Garner did pretty well in minimizing the clunkers. All-Star rosters are extended to 31 (not the normal 25) to accomodate the silly "every team has an All-Star" rule, fan voting (Paul LoDuca? Mark Loretta? Seriously?), and managers' picks.

Anyway, here's a 25-man roster for each league, constructed with actually winning in mind (so no playing dudes out of position too much, appropriate amount of lefthanders in the bullpen, defensive aptitude, etc). The National League was a lot easier than the AL, probably because the AL has the 1b/DH logjam. No fuss/muss.

National League

Positional Starters (8)
C Estrada, Ari - switch-hitting catchers are NICE.
1b Pujols, StL - was on pace to bust Steroid Bear's single season homer record until he got hurt.
2b Utley, Phi - How cool is a name like "Chase Utley?" The only other career option that name would allow is "cowhand."
3b Wright, NYM - can't believe he's only 23. Worth a king's ransom in rotisserie.
SS Reyes, NYM - turned the corner this year by getting his OBP up. Also just turned 23.
LF Lee, Mil - I won't soon forget El Caballo turning around to our heckling while the ball was in play. Dude, pay attention to the game.
CF Beltran, NYM - finally earning that big money, still the best defensive OF in the game.
RF Berkman, Hou - been playing 1b this year, but has played RF in the past. Also, is on the All Big-Boned Team.

Bench (6)
C McCann, Atl - hitting .354
1b/SS/3b - Nomar, LA - can play a little bit everywhere and is hitting a ton (.363/.425/.591)
2b/ss - Vizquel, SF - defensive sub in the middle infield. My friend babysits his kids.
3b/LF - Cabrera, Fla - righthanded thunder off the bench, and I don't mean his thighs.
LF/CF/RF - Bay, Pit - He's Canadian. Every team has to have a rep.
LF/2b - Soriano, Was - guess I was wrong about him having a bad year in the NL
Could use another lefty bat off the bench. Cabrera or Soriano would DH. Would have chosen Abreu over Bay.

Pitchers (11)
SP Webb, Ari - best starter in the NL
SP Zambrano, Chi - could win 15 for a team that loses 100.
SP Arroyo, Cin - ERA leader, has pushed Cincy to the division lead
SP Glavine, NYM (L) - league leader in wins, the only good lefty starter in the NL
SP Pedro, NYM - still brings it in dramatic situations, as long as Grady Little isn't around
RP Carpenter, StL
RP Capuano, Mil
RP Fuentes, Col (L)
RP Gordon, Phi - And the girls who love him.
RP Hoffman, SD
RP Wagner, NYM (L) - 2 good starters and 4 lights-out closers round out the bullpen.

American League
Positional Starters (8)
C Mauer, Min - How many catchers hit over .390 this late in the year?
1b Thome, Chi - league leader in HRs, SLG, and Comiskey love.
2b Lopez, Sea - leading AL 2b in win shares. Sorry, Gooch.
3b Crede, Chi - Really. Defense, and he doesn't choke like A-Rod.
SS Jeter, NYY - can cure cancer, find Osama Bin Laden, lower gas prices. but doesn't.
LF Manny, Bos - requisite leftfielder who can bomb but can't field
CF Wells, Tor - He and Beltran are having very similar years hitting and fielding.
RF Ichiro!, Sea - can play center also

Bench (6)
C Hernandez, Bal - leads MLB catchers in HRs and RBI.
DH Hafner, Cle - I love Big Papi, but Pronk is having a slightly better year.
3b/SS ARod, NYY - provides entertainment value with meaningless home runs late in blowouts, galvanizes the clubhouse because everyone hates him.
2b/SS Grudzielanek, KC - ugh. every team has to have a rep.
OF Matthews, Tex - can play all three OF spots and run.
RF Vladdy, LAA - Dye is having a better year, but every team has to have a rep.
The overall suckiness of the bench is KC's fault. Would have picked Young over Grudzielanek, then Sizemore over Matthews. Could use some lefthanded pop and someone who can actually play 1b.

Pitchers (11)
SP Santana, Min - best AL pitcher for the past 3 years. Was Koufax like this?
SP Halladay, Tor - great pitcher with freak injuries.
SP Contreras, Chi - 16 straight winning decisions. Hated the Yankees so much, he refused to pitch well until he left them. That sort of integrity is hard to find.
SP Schilling, Bos - hard to believe the Bloody Sock of Turin got left off the All-Star team.
SP Zito, Oak (L) - Oakland made the right choice in keeping him over Mulder or Hudson.
RP Kazmir, TB (L)
RP Jenks, Chi - 100 MPH
RP Verlander, Det - 100 MPH
RP Ryan, Tor (L)- 100 MPH
RP Papelbon, Bos
RP Rivera, NYY

Why do it in 30 spots when you can do it 25?

Off to hunt for boxes.

Washington

...is beautiful. I miss the ocean. This particular beach, on Kamano Island, isn't particularly sandy, but the day was perfect; there was little humidity, a good strong breeze, and a steady tide. And loads of excellent skipping stones lying about. The sand was loose enough that your foot would plunge a good 4 inches every time you took a step.

You can't really see it in the picture, but you could see the snowcapped head of Mt. Rainier off in the distance, almost in the exact middle of the photo, which I think was the only place in the entire camp that you could peek at the mountains. It scares me just a little bit that Mt. Rainier is an active volcano, because I'm pretty sure that I'm not ready to tangle with something like that and win. Anyway, I won't be moving there any time soon, so it looks like the only natural disaster I need to worry about is static electric shocks during Chicago winters.

We set up tea lights along the edge of the L-shaped dock, and trooped the kids out there one night for Adoration. Then we had Fr. Robert rowed out from the side, and calling out to the kids, just like Christ called out to the apostles, as we were sitting out in the perfect stillness of the water. It also invoked the imagery of the liturgy for that day, when Jesus calms the waters of the storm. It was a very cool moment, sitting there with Jesus in the Eucharist right on the dock, in a prayerful moment of solidarity with nature and each other. Just slightly cooler than sitting on the dock and radioing in that "the kids were in position." The cloak and dagger of youth ministry, of creating context. Teaching literature could be a heck of a lot easier with a dock and a lake close by.

Two years ago at this retreat, Fr. Pat gave a talk using the imagery of Moses taking his shoes off at the burning bush, because of the sanctity of holy ground, and also as a sign of reverence. Little did Fr. Pat know that he was establishing a camp tradition where the kids always take their shoes off before entering the chapel, even to this day. Visitors show up with puzzled looks. Some of our staff have found shoes or flipflops outside of the sanctuaries of various local parishes, and inevitably, one of our kids is in there, praying. I'd like to think that it says a lot about these kids, the level of their reflection, and their receptivity to the faith.

One down, two to go. Next retreat in less than two weeks, which should be just enough time to get back on a regular sleep schedule. Honestly, I can't wait.

heading west

Off to Seattle. See ya on the 27th.

cup de mundial

National Geographic, of all places, had a little write-up on the World Cup, excerpted here:

"...What is soccer if not everything that religion should be? Universal yet particular, the source of an infinitely renewable supply of hope, occasionally miraculous, and governed by simple, uncontradictory rules ('laws,' officially) that everyone can follow. Soccer's laws are laws of equality and nonviolence and restraint, and free to be reinterpreted at the discretion of a reasonable arbiter. What the ref says goes, no matter how flagrantly in violation of dogma his decisions may be. My official rule book, after presenting a detailed enumeration of soccer's 17 laws, concludes that the ref can throw out any of them in order to apply what it rather mystically calls 'the spirit of fair play.'" -- Sean Wilsey

What makes this the best international sporting event (no one watches the Olympics anymore since American television has reduced it to skating and gymnastics) is that every single game means something to pretty much an entire country of people. I caught the end of Saudi Arabia vs. Tunisia (widely panned as the dog match of the first round), and it was absolute pandemonium as goals were scored on each side in the final 8 minutes to come to a disproportionately boring-looking 2-2 draw. There were rumors flying around about the Saudi players being promised a lucrative ($12 mill) bonus if they make it to the second round. Saudi journalists were showered with threats and had to be escorted from the pressbox when Tunisian fans took exception to their loud and partisan encouragement.

Before Tunisia's tie, when Togo scored the first goal in their match against South Korea, that was the first time an African nation had led in the tournament. When Korea eventually won that match (Ahn with the winner, what!), it was the first time Korea had won on European soil. Every goal, every match is potentially the greatest sporting achievement in that particular nation's history, which is saying something, and that makes it compelling to watch.

During the 2002 World Cup, my buddy D was surprised to discover that I was rooting for the Korean squad rather than the US. "You're American, tho," he reasoned. This is true, but I was born in Korea. Also, if Team USA did well, no one would care here. It'd get swallowed up in the baseball coverage over the summer and NFL camps opening. If Korea won a match, just a single match, it's be history; their semifinal finish made everyone on that team a folk hero, with coach Guus Hiddink given honorary citizenship. And it'd be the same in every smaller-but-equally-soccer-crazed nation in the Cup: the Ivory Coast, Ukraine, Serbia-Montenegro, the Saudis, etc. Nothing better for a sports addict.

weight watchers

I referenced the All-Fat team on a previous post, so I figured I should reveal the rest of the team. It's one team out of many from baseball conversations with my bro, which have also birthed the All-Hefty White Man Team, the All-Time Afros Team, and All-Time Players We Hate Team.

The parameters were simple: had to be on a major league roster this year, had to be "fat," not just "big." So, no Lance Berkman or Jim Thome on here. (An All-BigBoned Team would straight up kill folks.) Also, I tried picking halfway decent players; it's no fun if you're fat AND you're no good.

Here's the lineup:
1. Ronnie Belliard, 2b, Cle - Height: 5-8 Weight: 197
.276, 4 HRs, 29 RBI, quite the Sox-killer, and following in the footsteps of fellow Cleveland 2b Carlos Baerga on the All-Fat Team.

2. Kevin Mench, OF, Tex - Height: 6-0 Weight: 225
.291, 11 HRs, 35 RBI, and the biggest head in the majors (8.5 hat size). God bless ya, Kevin.

3. Miguel Tejada, SS, Bal - Height: 5-9 Weight: 213
.332 15 HRs, 49 RBI. Middle infielders are difficult to pick cuz they're all little guys. Miggy's not even fat, I just put him on here because I can't believe he's 213 lbs. He must be incredibly dense, like gold or uranium.

4. Miguel Cabrera, 3b, Fla - Height: 6-2 Weight: 246
.339, 9 HRs, 43 RBI. Media guide lists him as 210, but he says he's closer to 246, was 260 at the beginning of the season.

5. Adam Dunn, OF, Cin - Height: 6-6 Weight: 275
.229, 19 HRs, 36 RBI, .557 SLG and built like a tight end. A tight end that never works out.

6. Prince Fielder, Mil - Height: 6-0 Weight: 260
His daddy was a long time member. 854 OPS, *4 stolen bases* (!?)

7. Matt Stairs, OF, KC - Height: 5-9 Weight: 215
.255, 5 HRs, 21 RBI. If a fire hydrant became a man, it would look like this.

8. Bengie Molina, C, Tor - Height: 5-11 Weight: 225
.292, 5 HRs, 16 RBIs. Catchers are hard to pick because they're ALL pudgy. I want to see this guy and Paul Konerko in a footrace.

The pitching staff... is quite formidable
Starters
Carlos Zambrano, ChiC Height: 6-5 Weight: 255
5-3, 2.93 ERA, 97 Ks in 92 IP. And a face only a mother can love.

C.C. Sabathia, Cle Height: 6-7 Weight: 290
5-2, 2.62 ERA, 1.11 WHiP. Once all that beef gets moving, he can throw at 100 MPH.

Livan Hernandez, Was Height: 6-2 Weight: 245
5-6, 5.06 ERA. Having a bad year this year, but has traditionally been an excellent rubber-armed innings-eater. Just an excellent eater in general, apparently. I didn't *think* they had KFC Buffets in Livan's native Cuba, but...

Sidney Ponson, StL Height: 6-1 Weight: 250
4-1, 3.54 ERA. A bounceback year for the Prince of Aruba in StLoo.

Bartolo Colon Height: 5-11 Weight: 250
Currently on the DL, but the 2005 Cy Young winner. Or, as I like to call him, Andre the Giant.

The bullpen gets even richer and thicker.
Bobby Jenks, ChiW Height: 6-3 Weight: 280
2-1, 2.93 ERA, 18 saves, 33 K in 27.2 IP. Immortalized as the poster boy for the All-Fatty Team when his manager called for "da Beeg Boy" in the World Series.

Bob Wickman, Cle Height: 6-1 Weight: 240
1-1, 2.95 ERA, 9 saves.
Proving once and for all that baseball players are not necessarily athletes.

That's a pretty good team, definitely a division winner and a playoff contender. Balls hit to the outfield would be quite an adventure, as would be getting to routine grounders, but good power and excellent pitching.

hurray for summer weekends

"It is always the case that the greater the joy, the greater is the pain which precedes it. Why should this be, O Lord my God, when you are your own eternal joy, you are Joy itself and you are always surrounded by creatures which rejoice in you? Why is it that in this part of your creation which we know there is this ebb and flow of progress and retreat, of hurt and reconciliation? Is this the rhythm of our world? Is this what you prescribed when from the heights of heaven to the depths of the earth, from the first beginnings to the end of time, from the angel to the worm, from the first movement to the last, you allotted a proper place and a proper time to good things of every kind and to all your just works? How can I hope to understand the height and depth of you, from the greatest to the most lowly of your works? You never depart from us, yet it is hard for us to return to you."

--St. Augustine, Confessions

Also, they are making 24: The Movie. Tingk. TINGK. Tingk. TINGK.

Going to the game tonight. Hope to see a victory, even a flawed one, which seems to be a Sox trademark this season. At least I get to hang out with my dad.

credo

"I felt a deep moral obligation to my students; that is why I spent so many hours in preparation for each class. In an age of social justice one phase that seems neglected is the moral duty of the professors to give their students a just return for their tuition. This applies not only to the method of teaching but to the content as well. A teacher who himself does not learn is no teacher. Teaching is one of the noblest vocations on earth, for, in the last analysis, the purpose of all education is the knowledge and love of truth."

--Archbishop Fulton Sheen

Thank goodness for great weather during the Printer's Row Book Fair, which led to great purchases, like the pearls of The Quotable Fulton Sheen (which yielded the above), some Graham Greene, my own Moby Dick (apparently, I might be the only person who likes it), and some kids' stuff for the goddaughter, all for $25.

streaming

Nice writeup about Mexican wrestling by the NYT, backgrounding Nacho Libre, which will soon rest by Anchorman and Zoolander in my DVD collection. No, this is not what Ed is doing while "studying to be a priest in Rome."

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My dad is one of the nicest people I know. Correction. My dad *IS* the nicest person I know, and not the kind of nice that's annoying and grating, but the kind that really makes you feel great for having talked to him. It's really genuine and heartfelt. And it occurred to me that he does and says these little things that make people feel great.

For example, he was emailing with the mother of our two boarders that stay with us on the weekends during the school year. She and her husband are very grateful to our family for taking care of their kids while they are in Korea, and my parents are good about keeping them up to date about what's going on at school, etc. Apparently, in the course of email correspondence, my dad signed off by using the Korean word for "sister-in-law" to refer to the boys' mother, and that moved her to tears. In a phone call to my mom, she explained that it touched her that my parents would view them as truly a part of family, especially since they are already brimming over with gratitude at how my parents lovingly treat their sons. Anyway. I never give my dad enough credit for doing things like that, making people feel welcome and comfortable and loved.

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My baseball team sucks. Too many mental errors, which is showing up in defensive lapses and lack of execution on offense. We're playing like the 2004 White Sox, with lots of homers, ok pitching, and shoddy D (Jose Valentin, may you die the death of a 1000 groundballs hitting you in the chest).

1. Brandon McCarthy is being ruined in the bullpen. Can't really blame this on anybody when you can't crack the best starting rotation in the majors, but he's not handling the irregular workload as a reliever very well. There really isn't anything to do except wait for him to get better. It mainly means that his changeup has lost effectiveness, which just happened to be the cookie he threw to Ronnie Belliard (4-time All-Fat Team selection) last night.
2. Rob Mackowiak is a crappy centerfielder. I've seen more line drives get into the gaps this past week since he took over for BA then ever. I think it's best to shore up the defense to support the not-so-Cy-Young pitching, get back to playing the run prevention game that this team was supposed to be built on. I understand that Anderson's robust .164 is ugly, but the defense has been airtight. I don't get where the "I don't care what he hits, long as he catches everything" mentality of a few weeks ago disappeared to. If he's not getting sent to the minors, then he needs to play close to everyday, for his own development and for the sake of a suddenly flyball-happy staff.
3. On the other hand, Juan Uribe needs to sit his ass down. Anderson at least has the excuse of being a rookie, but an established veteran hitting .208? He's got the worst approach at the plate I've ever seen, right now, like a colorblind, attention-defecit turnstile. And his defense has been showing some cracks, too, particularly the boned grounder during the Cubs series. I'm all for Alex Cintron getting some more ABs.
4. What's happened to execution? Bunting guys over, advancing runners, sacrifice flies? Everyone is seriously homer happy. Once you get past Dye in the 5 spot, pitchers get to cruise for 4 outs.

And, the Sox still have the second best record in the AL, just 2.5 back of the D's, so no one feels particularly sorry.

By the way, the Royals are becoming the Jake Plummers of fantasy sports. To wit: I used to pick up the defense that Jake Plummer was playing that week because I knew it was a guaranteed 2 INTs, a few fumbles, and a chance for a defensive score. Now, when my fantasy baseball team needs some pitching help, I just check the schedule to see who the Royals are facing.

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June already. And still no work. Should be an interesting three months until September. I could be in another state (WA), another country (KOR), completely penniless (loans), cut off from everyone, or working outside of teaching (youth ministry). I really honestly thought that this sort of up for grabs spontaneity ended by the time you're 30. If uncertainty builds character, then I've got enough to squeeze out 5 lb blocks of it every morning.

But strangely enough, I'm still pretty happy.

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"We cannot peer into God’s mysterious plan – we see only piecemeal, and we would be wrong to set ourselves up as judges of God and history. Then we would not be defending man, but only contributing to his downfall. No – when all is said and done, we must continue to cry out humbly yet insistently to God: Rouse yourself! Do not forget mankind, your creature! And our cry to God must also be a cry that pierces our very heart, a cry that awakens within us God’s hidden presence – so that his power, the power he has planted in our hearts, will not be buried or choked within us by the mire of selfishness, pusillanimity, indifference or opportunism.

Let us cry out to God, with all our hearts, at the present hour, when new misfortunes befall us, when all the forces of darkness seem to issue anew from human hearts: whether it is the abuse of God’s name as a means of justifying senseless violence against innocent persons, or the cynicism which refuses to acknowledge God and ridicules faith in him.

...The God in whom we believe is a God of reason - a reason, to be sure, which is not a kind of cold mathematics of the universe, but is one with love and with goodness. We make our prayer to God and we appeal to humanity, that this reason, the logic of love and the recognition of the power of reconciliation and peace, may prevail over the threats arising from irrationalism or from a spurious and godless reason."

Pope Benedict XVI, 5/25/06 at Auschwitz

good to the last drop

The walk-off squeeze bunt in the 10th inning wasn't even the strangest thing that happened at the Sox game last night.



Neither was LeiGh Vanna White-ing a bag of Sox peanuts while behind bars.

Most of it happened in the second inning. To wit:

• There was genuine applause when Frank Thomas came up the first time in the second. Which instantly turned into "uh, what now?" when he promptly escorted the baseball to deep left, just like he always used to do. I mean, we're happy to see you do well, but uh, why couldn't you be satisfied with, say, a double off the wall? And then he hits another homer in the 5th. Garland sucks.
• Ozzie, annoyed with the tight strike zone and Garland's generally sucktacularity, comes out to the mound to talk to his pitcher after giving up Thomas' aforementioned and a back-to-back, cherry on top, solo shot to Bobby Crosby. Umpire Doug Eddings comes out to break up the meeting, Ozzie apparently didn't like the color of Eddings' trousers, gets tossed.
• Play is stopped for a good long while as a squirrel prances around in the left field grass. Pablo Ozuna, hamfisted outfielder though he is, knows enough to not get near the wild animal, and generally gives off the body language of, "I don't get paid for that." The security guys along the left field stands? Not moving an inch.
  
  Finally, like sheep to the slaughter, two grounds crew guys jog out of the visitor's dugout, which is on the right field side, i.e., the furthest away from the squirrel possible. The crew dudes start sprinting when they realize 40,000 people are watching them attempt to do their jobs. The squirrel, alert to the possibility of a golden comedic moment, now jailbreaks for the center field warning track. Grounds crew guys freak, try to cut off the path of escape, squirrel doubles back to the left field corner. Cheers of "SQUIRREL... SQUIRREL... SQUIRREL" have predictably arisen. Jill shakes her head, wonders where we are "right now." Helpful fans along the left field stands try to reach out to catch it, maybe not thinking about how dumb grabbing a feral rodent might be. Order restored when the squirrel hides under? inside? the tarp. ToddH deadpans, "maybe the squirrel can pitch."

The rest was pretty straightforward. Mackowiak ties it, Jenks holds' em, Pablo squeezes it.

from the creators of Anchorman...

...comes my sleeper pick for the summer. Too bad it releases in August.


Going to the game tonight. Figures to be a lot of runs scored with Garland pitching.

may showers

People often ask me how I'm coping with the job thing. I grumble about it mostly (that's what's expected). But, I think I need to do a little more navel-gazing, a little more grousing to catch up because I've been having too much fun lately to grouse.

I drove up to Milwaukee Friday night to spend some QT with family friends the Twins (TM) and godson Alex (who loves to introduce me as his "godfather" for the odd looks), who, ceremony notwithstanding, are officially done at Marquette. Did this make me feel old? Yes, yes it did.


Laura looks happy and relieved, Alex looks scared and about to relieve his pants. Can you cry laugh at the same time? The random "Road work ahead" sign in the corner is also great, and kind of ominous.

We took in a Brewers game, which went undeterred by finicky Midwest spring weather because of Miller Park's retractable roof, and where Prince Fielder became a new favorite (how many can you have at once, anyway? Double digits too many?) after he pounded a monstrous drive to deep center, which was "estimated at 475 feet, the second-longest since Miller Park opened in 2001."

What's not to like about a guy that has a great name, great baseball pedigree, weighs 280 lbs, and can hit baseballs farther than I can hit golf balls? Pretty much nothing. And he just turned 22, and looks a lot like Big Papi. The thing is, David Ortiz didn't turn into Big Papi until his age 28 season.


See the Cingular and Roadrunner billboards (right of the scoreboard)? Fielder's homer hit the beam under the ads. For good measure, he cranked out an opposite field shot his next AB.


Saturday night, went to check out Secret Machines at a midnight show at Metro. Why a midnight show, guys. I know, so I'd be bleary-eyed for Mass the following morning. Random observations include:

1. I could have sworn guitarist Ben Curtis was wearing a blouse. A little too tight to be "fitted," black, cap sleeves, v-neck, topped off with a rather large charm on a silver chain, which would have fit *right* in during the 80s heyday of terrible movies like "Conan the Barbarian" and "Beastmaster." This jives with MaxFactor's observation that crowd seemed, more um, non-hetero than he'd envisioned. Nothing wrong with it, just didn't know the gay community was so into psychedelic rock. Good on you guys.

2. Drummer Josh Garza is a golden god. And it was his birthday.

3. SM has a very strong "it's-all-about-the-music" vibe during their performances; they don't indulge in Crowd Banter 101, they don't have a traditional floor configuration (main singer is off to the side, the trio faces each other), and lots of time you can't even see them cuz their usually backlit, the light show lases directly into the audience and the smoke takes care of the rest. So it's a little weird to listen to the new album, which sounds post-relational and attention-needy, and juxtapose it with how they carry themselves. Also, Ben Curtis wants to be a Guitar Hero (TM), which sort of makes sense considering their avowed Zeppelin love, but doesn't considering their generally aloof vibe. Anyway. They're probably still in the middle of figuring it all out.

4. I should have gotten the other shirt. Dah. At least I still have a shirt that says "Secret Machines" on it.

Woke up Sunday and had a great brunch with the boarders, my parents, my godson's and his cousin's families. Fun. This doesn't even include the two Sox games I went to last week. To answer your question, yes, I'm still actively looking for work, but what are you supposed to do when a school that's interested can't hire you because you don't coach soccer? Oh well. Here's to good times until then.

late night

Conan's been in town this week, giving us precious moments like following Mr. T around the town:



Have a good weekend.

When I consider

Sonnet XIV (1652)
John Milton

When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide;
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask; but Patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state

Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait."

Freddy loves MJ

The longest laugh of the today goes to Freddy Garcia allegedly testing positive for marijuana use during the World Baseball Classic. Apparently, smoking weed also means you lose 3-4 MPH off your fastball, adding a few pounds, and some of his mound demeanor.

"You talk to Freddy off the field, and he's the same way: laid back. He doesn't look like Venezuela. He looks like he's from California, I guess," says Ozzie.

I suspect a plot by Brandon McCarthy to break free from bullpen duties. All it would take is an unsuspecting IM conversation:

BMacSKILLZ: u ther?
FG34Calcetines: sup
BMacSKILLZ: wutcha doin
FG34Calcetines: internet poker its the bombbbbbbbb
FG34Calcetines: wanna play
BMacSKILLZ: no thx
FG34Calcetines: ok
FG34Calcetines: wut u doin?
BMacSKILLZ: eatin for the 5th time today
BMacSKILLZ: i want Oz to have a cool signal 4 me when i come out of the pen
BMacSKILLZ: the goatee thing didnt fly, i guess
BMacSKILLZ: anywayz
FG34Calcetines: thats cool man i can talk to him
FG34Calcetines: hes mi gente cuz of my wife
FG34Calcetines: he gonna listen to me cuz we're from Tierra de la gracia
BMacSKILLZ: s'ok
BMacSKILLZ: listen, there's gonna b a hydrant flushing next week
BMacSKILLZ: near my place, gonna be beer, ppl chillin out, food, hookahs and stuff
FG34Calcetines: hookaz are awesome

reading

One of my tutoring students asked me what I read. Nowadays, I tend to read stuff in a style that I want to write. So, Nick Hornby, John Irving, Chuck Palahniuk of late. I was trying to explain to my student, that for a writerly nerd, it's hard to just enjoy a plot, because I'm wrapped up in analyzing the language or dissecting how the dude turned that phrase so hilariously. I know *just* enough to be dangerous.

"Piano" (1918)
D.H. Lawrence

Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.

In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.

looking for land mines

It was a grueling weekend. As someone who works with Catholic youth, I was sent to a training session for child sexual abuse awareness, in the hopes of eventually training others in it also. Anyway, 8 hour sessions of horrifying anecdotes and shocking statistics pretty much did me in. My friend, who dragged me into this whole thing, said afterward, "where's the tallest building?" Indeed.

On the bright side, I got to connect with some high school principals, which resulted in some phone calls about jobs... but not teaching English. I dunno, at some point, maybe I'll just get the message that I shouldn't be doing this. I'd rather quit after having tried it, tho. Why don't people want me to teach English? I promise I won't be the *worst* teacher you've ever hired. Um, also I'm male and not Caucasian, so maybe I can help your quota out that way too. You wouldn't believe how many times my being male and not-Caucasian has been assumed as something that should help me. I dunno what to tell you, but it hasn't really worked out. But, considering my cold streak, I could probably apply to an all-Asian American Catholic boys writing school at this point, and still miss out.

Also, I don't know how I feel about this movie.

I'm a little worried at Ozzie's insistence of using the "Sunday lineup" more than once a week, the Sunday lineup being any combination of Pablo Ozuna, Alex Cintron, AND Rob Mackowiak all playing at the SAME TIME. I don't have a problem with resting your starters after a long postseason and a short offseason.

I know the Mariners and the Royals suck. I know that every day, we send out at least an average to above-average starting pitcher. I know the defense is pretty bulletproof. But really, can't the starters take turns having days off? Do I really need to see a lineup that has, consecutively, Mackowiak, Cintron, BAnderson (altho he's coming out of his slump), and Ozuna? We're playing offense 9 against 5. We don't need to sit 3 starters at once, outside of injuries. Cuz even Babe Ruth and Konerko will slump eventually, and the collective balance of the everyday starters will be necessary.

But no one, justifiably, has sorrow to spare for the defending champions, who, coming into Wed night, have the best record in the AL at 14-6. We're a long way from calling off the season.

even his mother calls him, the Edge

Episcopalians rock out to U2 Eucharist.

planning/thinking

"My favorite fruit is grapes. Because with grapes, you always get another chance. 'Cause, if you have a crappy apple or a peach, you're stuck with that crappy piece of fruit. But if you have a crappy grape, no problem - just move on to the next. 'Grapes: The Fruit of Hope.'"
-- Demetri Martin

Speaking of hope, waiting to hear back from last week's interview. It's funny to think that I drove an hour to go talk to somebody for 15 minutes. Also, trying to plan out my summer, mostly in terms of which five-day retreats I'll be helping on. Early July is the local one, late July is Toronto, and I might fly out to Washington for their camp in mid June. So, if anybody has an extra $300 lying around and willing to donate to a good cause... I think I really can help some kids out. I swear I won't pocket it and run.

This is my fifth year of doing these retreats, which is way longer than I ever envisioned doing something like this. I wasn't really the volunteering type during school, and now I'm responsible for coordinating or leading the retreats for my organization (MI Youth) for 3 states. I'm feeling a little pressure to make the most of the limited time that I have with it, because part of the basic philosophy of the youth ministry is to have "youth evangelize youth," and at some point in my mid 30s, I'm going to get a little old for it. So I see five more years of doing this sort of active participation in this ministry, so I want to do everything that I can, while I can. Plus, it's nice to feel like you can add something substantial to something worthwhile.

Contreras one-hit the Royals last night. If the pitching comes around, and the way Thome's been yeast to the offensive dough, Sox could be straight up killin' the Central.

I need... something to write.

***
The middle-aged woman plodded over to the chair, gingerly sinking into the cushioned seat. She looked intently at the magazines laid out on the table before her, and carefully picked one after shuffling through the titles. She held it in her left hand and leafed the pages with her right, sitting upright to ease the pressure off of her feet, it seemed, her short legs crossed and tucked under the seat.

She sat until the nurse called her to the desk, asking her to fill out a form. She nodded and took the clipboard. She asked me what some of the words said, not that she didn't understand, but because she couldn't quite make them out even with her glasses.

I read aloud "patient history" and she once again nodded her understanding, filling out the information as briefly and efficiently as possible.

"Did you eat when you woke up?" she asked, concerned that my habit of fasting until late in the afternoon would eventually ruin me.

I explained that I had a little cereal, just to appease her. I did, I just didn't finish the bowl.

She nodded again. "The bills you had to pay, you should send them soon."

"I know." She can never stop being a mother, checking up on everyone.

"Do you need some money? Do you have enough to pay?"

"It's ok. I have enough."

unstop the day

Decided to celebrate Easter by taking in some pop music at the Metro. Hey, you and I both know that Jesus loves a good beat to dance to.

The Editors opened up with an energetic set, although I got a little nauseous with lead singer Tom Smith's ADD/migraine stage hysterics. I'd say they're Interpol, but more light side and not quite as good. Their set was almost as long as headliner Stellastarr*. Also, it simultaenously gave and took away Jill's hope of starting a band completely composed of editorial staff. Or they at least would have to get a different name.

Stellastarr* only stuck around for 55 minutes and played all the goldies and oldies that I was looking for. Was definitely disappointed that they didn't have any new stuff to try out. That's guitarist Michael Jurin (left) and lead singer Shawn Christensen in the picture. Christensen has a great, fluttery hiccup that cuts through all the noise; it's cool that it doesn't get overpowered by the amplifiers. Bassist Amanda Tannen's sweet hollabacks got caught up in the wash, sometimes, but it could be that I was fricking deaf from being too close to the stage/speakers.


I'll admit that the real treat was being right up against Tannen's stage side.

This might be the last show for awhile. Coachella is far away, Intonation and the Pitchfork Festival conflict with volunteer commitments, and... wait, I hate outdoor festivals. The oppressive heat, the unwashed masses, port-a-potties, long lines, standing all day... Call me crazy, but I happen to like air conditioning and uncrappy acoustics. (Lollapalooza looks tempting, though. Wilco? Secret Machines? the Shins? BSS? New Pornographers? Heck, Feist?) I'll probably poop out and just go see Band of Horses in June at Scooba'z.