I was an English major, after all.

So it's term paper time here, and I get to write a total of 60 pages for the end of the semester. One paper is already written, and work has been done toward a second, which will put the lion's share of the writing behind me, and a summer of non-academic pursuits will become reality. I'll write something a little more worthwhile at some point, but for right now I'll cop out and quote someone else.
For Christmas 2 years ago, my grandfather gave me a volume of poetry by Czeslaw Milosz, a Polish/Lithuanian poet who had died about a year before, and who spent much of his career here in Berkeley. When I read from this volume, Second Spaces, I feel like I'm stealing something. Milosz, with a lot more miles on his bones than I have, pours his wisdom into these poems. I particularly like this one, entitled "Werki," after a place in Lithuania.

An English Horn, a drum, a viola making music
In a house on a hill amidst forests in autumn.
A large view from there onto the bends of the river.

I still want to correct this world,
Yet I think mostly of them, and they have all died.
Also about their unknown country.
Its geography, says Swedenborg, cannot be transferred to maps.
For there, as one has been, so one sees.
And it is possible even there to make mistakes; for instance,

to wander about

Without realizing you are already on the other side.

As I, perhaps, just dream those rusty-golden forests,
The glitter of the river in which I swam in my youth,
The October from my poems with its air like wine.

The priests taught us about salvation and damnation.
Now I have not the slightest notion of these things.
I have felt on my shoulder the hand of my Guide,
Yet He didn't mention punishment, didn't promise a reward.

They Scared the Cats, Norwegian Rats!

Interesting week. Here are some things that I learned:

1. An adult Norway Rat, pictured at right, can kill an adult cat. (Note: All cats are safe and accounted for. This is not a lesson born of experience.)
2. If Scott Podsednik takes a baseball off his head in the outfield to lose a game for the White Sox, no one will talk about it. Why? This is hilarious.
3. The last name of the manager of the apartment complex we'd like to move to in NJ is, I kid you not, Soprano. Shudder.
4. I need to get a microwave, because leftover pizza meatballs are not nearly as good cold as they are hot.
5. Finding energy to complete a semester after thesis completion is not very easy.
6. More than one local Episcopal church prayed for Anna Nicole Smith at their Easter vigil. There was giggling.
7. Earning a jointly-conferred Master's degree does not mean that the two institutions involved jointly confer about how to lessen the paperwork you must fill out.
8. Jackie Robinson wore number 42. Does anyone know about this? Somebody should do something to commemorate that.
   
9. Cal Ripken, when asked by Alex Rodriguez for advice about handling the media, said "Go watch Bull Durham." A-Rod is said to have replied, "Why's he calling me meat?"
10. Firejoemorgan.com brings me an inordinate amount of joy.
    

Hamburgered...

Yesterday, K and I were running some errands on foot, and were waiting to cross a street when a hamburger came flying out of a passing SUV and hit me in the head, getting ketchup on my UNC cap. I was a bit stunned by this occurrence. I really didn't see it coming. I was probably distracted by the people in the SUV, who were barking like dogs.

The Orioles are 1-3...

but the 1 came tonight in Yannkis stadium with Mike Mussina pitching, so I'm thrilled. Nice to see Loewen continue to pitch well, and some good clutch hitting off of the Orioles' rat bastard Stanford (Duke of the West) alum former ace.
Quality Chinese food is in my stomach, and Casino Royale will be entering the DVD player very soon, once I mix Manhattans for the wife and myself. It's foggy and a bit chilly outside, which passes for a meteorological event this time of year in Berkeley. All is well.

Oy Ve

Joe Angel, one of the Orioles radio guys, just responded to Minnesota's 7th run of the evening (7-0, Minnesota), by saying,"I'll be honest with you. I'm not having that much fun." Me neither Joe. Why am I an Orioles fan? Inertia, I suppose. Things like Jay Gibbons in the outfield and any of our first basemen at first base make a fan want to kneecap Peter Angelos...

For all of you who haven't jabbed knitting needles into your ears today...

Vaious things, mainly baseball

I went to see Thomas Mapfumo (The Lion of Zimbabwe) at Yoshi's last night. The show was cool on any number of levels. Heavily improvised but still extremely rhythmic African music is always a good thing (the guy who's giving a couple of us lessons in playing mbira music was the special guest). In addition, we got to see a little bit of the anger Mapfumo holds toward the ruling regime in Zimbabwe- there were a decent number of ex-pats at the show as well. Just a cool evening with a great band.

Today's mind-numbing quote of the day comes from Chapel Hill High alum Brian Roberts who, when asked which ballpark is hardest to play in, replied thusly:

Probably Boston and New York [Yankees]. They are always packed. Boston is really tough because it's always loud and it's just a good home atmosphere. But we've lost a lot of games [in the Metrodome], I know that. I think coming here and playing in the dome is very hard. It's an adjustment for everybody. When they got a lot of people here, it's very loud. I was hitting and it was very loud.

Writing my M.A. thesis was hard. I think that writing it was hard. I was writing, and it was very difficult.

Today's website that immediately won a spot on my .rss roster is firejoemorgan.com. It's a blog made up of stupid things said by sportscasters and snarky comments about said sportscasters. Nothing further need be said. Bonus points for a spectacular url.

There are a couple of 1:05 games on the East Coast today, which means that I get to start listening to baseball at 10:05. I haven't made my morning coffee yet (I was at the gym, picking up heavy things and putting them back down), so I'm all set to go for the rare coffee/newspaper/baseball game trifecta. Other items on the to-do list, assuming the trifecta does not render the time/space continuum obsolete, include some housework, going to get something tasty for dinner, and a little bit of initial research on my term papers. They're due in 6 weeks. This will be a personal record in getting a jump on an assignment, not counting the thesis, which was officially filed yesterday.

No classes for the rest of the week, as all of the Christians are preparing for the crucifixion (even the Greeks). Having no clerical duties myself, I hope to get ahead on some work and maybe take a quality nap or two.

Opening Day

Today, every team has the same record. This means that the Orioles, who hope to avoid their 10th straight losing season, are currently undefeated. The Yankees have not won a single game. The bullpen that the Orioles went out and bought gets to see what they can do. From now until October, I will be able to listen to or watch baseball almost every day. As a baseball fan, Opening Day is possibly my favorite day of the year.
As for the Orioles, my hope for this year is that they can play .500 ball. The mere fact that they invested in relief pitching during the offseason is encouraging, although Peter Angelos' refusal to sell the team indicates that more mediocrity is on the way. Esskay hot dogs, though, has a great commercial running on Baltimore radio stations with the refrain, "We were there for the Ripken years." My team ought to get better this year, and my favorite player ever, in any sport, will be inducted into the Hall of Fame. I love baseball season.