If you thought the pig was gross...

...you should see the pictures I could have taken at the Bay to Breakers race in SF on Sunday. K wanted to check out the race for her birthday, and many of the city's sedentary consumers of pizza and beer showed up in their commemorative birthday suits. After about 20 minutes, though, you stop noticing them, and the costumes really are great at Bay to Breakers; imagine Halloween in Chapel Hill on acid and with warmer weather. My personal favorite was the group of people that dressed up as a school of salmon and then went the wrong way on the course.

The presentation of K's birthday present is delayed until Friday, when her twin sister gets here. The suspense about the present is palpable in the arranging your lamp household this week.

I received an empty diploma holder and an inside out hood on Friday at graduation. Grades should go final in the coming days, thus making my status as a Master of Theology official. It's nice to have a break from the academic grind, as I worked right through Winter Break and really haven't relaxed since last summer. The primary goal now is to move to New Jersey.

Thanks to those who participated in the hat survey earlier this spring. I received a Lookouts hat as a graduation gift. K says it looks like an Elmer Fudd hat. I think it's just fine.

Sacre bleu!

Click on the pig to see more creepy ads.

Teach your children well

Smoking is now on the list of things that can get a movie a more restrictive rating. I wonder when murder, pathetic female role models, misrepresentation of Native Americans and Virginia geography, bondage, or implied doggy-style sex will affect such matters...

Hi Roger,

Welcome back to the American League. Please feel free to choke on your overbloated ego any time you'd like to. Also, if you could criticize some marginalized group or make some really lewd comments, I'd appreciate that more than you could know. I don't like you, and I hope you have a terrible season, followed by an overweight retirement. Thanks,

SJL

This is Greensburg, Kansas today.
I used to have nightmares about tornadoes.
This is why.

Good Sign, Good baseball.

As an Orioles fan, it's been a while since I heard one of our players say something like this. Let's hope Peter Angelos understands that he needs to keep Nick Markakis around for a long time. "You got to love it, being in that situation, the game in your hands," Markakis said. "I was just up there looking to hit a fly ball or hit it through a hole, and that's what happened." He tied the game in the 8th, and won it in the 10th.
I watched a certain local NL team play last night, and greatly enjoyed their "clutch" hitting in the 7th and the 2-out rally in the 8th (which was started by an ill-advised 2-out intentional walk of Barry Lamar). Good baseball, even if it was against Philly.

Yesterday in a seminar class, we devoted the class time to our term papers. Each student took a few minutes to present their topic, and got feedback from the faculty, of whom there are 3, and the other 9 students. Mine went well; I got compliments on the development of my topic, and in general I feel fine. Another kid, and this post is really about him, blew my mind. He wanted to analyze the use of Tillich's treatment of the concepts of eros and agape, and the subsequent criticism of Tillich in feminist tradition. Don't worry if you're not up on that stuff; you're not alone.
He got Tillich wrong. He actually was incorrect about what Tillich said. Then, he got all three of the feminists he dealt with wrong. In short, every aspect of his paper was wrong, and everyone in the room told him so. Faculty, students, all of us told him that he had misread every source for his paper.
I felt a little ballsy because I had written 10 pages of mine before presenting the topic to the class, but I figured I could fix it if I needed to. My fellow student had already completed his paper, and handed it in. The professor he handed it to said, "Oh, wow, you're handing that in already? You have another week to make revisions. Are you sure you want to do this?" His reply was just spectacular. "Yep, I have no intention of making any changes." I just had to mention this on the blog because it's probably the dumbest thing I've seen someone do in my time at school, including undergrad and high school. We shredded that paper, and he had a week to fix it. Instead, he insisted that he was right, even though the people who will grade the paper disagree, and arrogantly handed it in. The same kid added a year onto his M.A. program because he didn't get in to any of the schools he applied to for a Ph.D.. Two of his academic references teach the class I've been talking about. It's not looking good for him.
I know this post sounds trite and pompous, but I still can't believe that this actually happened, and I actually think it's funny. 25 more pages of writing and I'm out of here.

Professionalism

Since I now know that at least one practicing journalist and a couple of journalism junkies read this blog, I'd like to submit the worst piece of writing I've seen published by a major media outlet in a while. Just remember, someone got paid to write this piece, which I am quoting in its rather brief entirety off of ESPN.com. No stone is turned, and no detail is left clarified.

Tom Brady has already made a connection with Randy Moss.

The Boston Globe reported on Tuesday that the quarterback restructured his contract to create cap space so the Patriots could acquire the receiver.

On Sunday, the Patriots sent their fourth-round pick, the 110th selection overall, to the Raiders for Moss. With the draft choice acquired in the deal, Oakland drafted cornerback John Bowie from the University of Cincinnati.

Moss

Brady

ESPN's Chris Mortensen reports that Brady did not take a pay cut; rather, he restructured his current deal that runs through 2010.

As part of the trade, the Patriots were required to take on the $9.75 million that Moss was scheduled to earn. After the deal, Moss tore up his old contract and signed a one-year, $3 million deal that could be worth up to $5 million with incentives.

On the second day of the draft on Sunday, the Patriots received permission from the Raiders to speak with Moss about a possible trade.

Derivative Post

I like Big Country's list of his favorite beers, and think that parroting him would be an apt way to unwind this evening. Without further ado:

1. Left Hand Sawtooth Ale. The Springs of 2004 and 2005 were good times, and the discovery of this beer during that time means it will forever be associated with good times and confusing minor league baseball schedules. It's also a fine, well balanced beer by a Colorado brewery that can do no wrong. This is probably my favorite beer that comes in bottles. Disc golf is probably my favorite sport to play while drinking a one that is cold.
   
2. Tie. Dogfish Head 90-Minute IPA/ Drake's IPA. Two India Pale Ales, crammed full of hops, pretty strong, and somehow creamy. Dogfish Head is made in Delaware, Drake's is made in Oakland. Neither is from India; IPA knows no geographical bias.
3. Fuller's 1845. My junior year of college, a parent in the youth group I led gave me a sizeable gift certificate to Whole Foods for Christmas. I was 20, so I scouted out the single bottle beers and gave my roommate a shopping list, including a decent amount of whatever he wanted to drink. The winner of the batch was Fuller's 1845, a bottle conditioned ale from England. Bottle Conditioned means it has active yeast in the bottle- no preservatives needed, and the beer actually improves with age. This was the first beer I tasted that I thought was complex in a good way.
4. Tie. Moosehead Lager/Saranac Black&Tan. Moosehead was my first favorite beer, and Saranac was the first dark beer I liked. Most of the bets I won in college were paid off with one of these two beers. You know who you are.
5. Red Hook ESB. I get a little too excited when this stuff goes on sale at the store. I just like it a whole lot.
6. Brother David's Triple Abbey Style Ale. Here be dragons. This stuff comes in a big bottle, and clocks in at 10% abv. I had already had one beer, and poured this while I watched a baseball game... alone. My wife came home to find me having had a reversal of fortune (in the proper receptacle) and then passed out on the couch... alone. You mess with Brother David, and he lays your ass out.
   

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.

Moving On.

This college basketball season is now dead to me. The same two teams that played for the football "championship" are playing for the basketball title. Fine. I'll see you next year. The O's open on Monday. Play Ball!

Back to reality...

Spring Break is drawing to a close, but not before the first cookout of the year, which will take place in our courtyard later today. Charcoal smoke and meat vapors will fill the air, and the hoppy flavors of west coast beers will tickle our tongues, thus signifying the true arrival of Spring. Baseball season is nigh, my thesis is done, and all is right with the world.
The big news in the Arranging Your Lamp household is that we will be leaving the Bay Area for New Jersey this summer. I'll be starting on my Ph.D. at Drew University, so it looks like we'll be there for 5 years or so. We're excited about the move, but currently very anxious about it, as no details have been worked out. While we have already done one cross country move, we do not savor the prospect of another. We'll be less than an hour by train from Manhattan, and back on the East Coast, so we're happy about the location.

K and I returned on Thursday from our Pacific Northwest Spring Break trip. We spent a few days in Seattle, which is a cool town to explore on foot. We tackled the Experience Music Project, where I had a semi-religious experience upon being 3 feet from the guitar Jimi Hendrix, my first musical idol, played at Woodstock. Pike Place Market is actually very cool while retaining its touristy character. We opted not to climb the Space Needle, as the Columbia Center downtown is a) significantly taller and b) free. Our hotel was across the street from the new Seattle library, which is an amazing building. Other Seattle highlights included the Bodies Exhibition (headed to Durham next- check it out if you're there), the Olympic Sculpture Park, the Underground Tour, and some really good beers.


We then took the Victoria Clipper up to Victoria, BC. Victoria is all of 5 miles from the border, but the town feels distinctly Canadian. It's a beautiful city that, while known as the retirement capitol of Canada, also had a decent array of cook restaurants and pubs. We tried poutine, which is a dish that will offend some readers of this blog and delight others. The poutine we got consisted of french fries topped with cheese, bacon, and... wait for it... gravy. Decisively unhealty, but really, really tasty.