Varitek is coming back.  I guess this is good.  But, it’s a strange world when a person is disappointed to receive only $5 million, with another $3-5 million guaranteed.  Nice work, if you can get it.

And, on the fourth day, we bombed Pakistan.  Luckily, this is only a bad thing when it happens under Republican Administrations–it is perfectly fine, even laudable, when Democrats do it.  Whew!  (I want to get Bin Laden even a little bit more than the average person, but I have never cared for double standards.)

We have established that I play around on Facebook.  A whole lot.  Lately, everyone’s passing around this nightmare “Write 25 random things about yourself” challenge.  It’s sort of horrid, when you have to sit down and do it–and yet, I really enjoy reading everyone else’s.

So, here are mine.  Feel free to add your own in the comments section–it would be interesting.

1.) I used to work in a factory wiring and assembling burglar alarms and computer fixtures. To my surprise, I was quite deft with tools. Sometimes, it’s nice to have a job that you don’t bring home with you.
2.) I totally love Battlestar Galactica, but it is the only time I have ever avidly watched a television show which I don’t completely understand. (even after more than one viewing.) When Roslin goes down, I’m going to be very upset.
3.) I meant to go to law school, but I forgot
4.) I spend too much time playing games on Facebook. But, it’s very entertaining, and I really like interacting with people from all over the world. It can be strangely grueling, yet psychologically fascinating.
5.) I am convinced I am about eight inches taller than I actually am. I am pretty sure that I am also probably Very Dangerous. But, in a good way–I hope.
6.) Cool Ranch Doritos are excellent
7.) I secretly enjoy really dumb action movies like Red Dawn and Die Hard. Hamburger Hill is one of my favorites.
8.) Chocolate doesn’t interest me much. I have always preferred vanilla or butterscotch
9.) I love photography, but will never be very good at it. It’s nice to do something creative, where there’s no pressure to have any actual talent
10.) I have a crippled, diabetic, neurologically impaired cat with no tail. I found her dying outside Yankee Stadium one afternoon, and on one else would stop to help her. Only the Red Sox fan. She has cost me so much money that I am _still_paying off her veterinary bills, and will be for quite some time to come.
11.) I am afraid that we will never, ever elect a female President, and if we do, it certainly won’t be a Democrat. This distresses me terribly.
12.) I flirt with Buddhism–and sometimes, it flirts back
13.) Not too long ago, I lost several years of my life to a freakish combination of horrible, disabling injuries, and recovered more than I ever would have expected. I am still trying to figure out what it all means, and how to make it work on a daily basis. The first time I managed to ski again, several people I know cried. I can sometimes even do black diamonds now. But, I wish I could see well enough to drive–and I can’t.
14.) It is embarrassing, but I am privately very fond of almost all of Shelley Long’s movies, especially Outrageous Fortune.
15.) I believe in reincarnation
16.) Once, I climbed a smallish, but steep, mountain in New Hampshire. I’d like to do that again, even though nature makes me nervous.
17.) I play both tenor and alto saxophone–not very well–and am very fond of hard bop. I can read music, but mostly, I just play by ear.
18.) Sleeping frustrates me, because it seems like such a complete waste of time, which could be put to better use
19.) I got to speak to Julie Andrews briefly last year, and had trouble not stuttering
20.) I really love cooking, and do so aggressively, but am inclined to improvise too much, and over-spice. Onions and garlic are thrilling. So is homemade curry powder.
21.) Sometimes–especially in recent months, I am quite convinced that I am in the wrong career, and should be doing something else entirely. But, I can’t think of a good fit–and would be delighted to hear suggestions.
22.) I would go to a baseball game–major or minor league; or even little league–every single day, if I could.
23.) I _always_ tell the truth, unless it would be unkind, in which case I try to avoid saying anything at all. If I fail to do so, I am extremely disappointed in myself.
24.) Rules–no matter how minor–are very, very hard for me. So, mostly, I have to break them. Laws, however, _matter_. Most of the time.
25.) I am still not sure if George Clooney can act, but I always enjoy looking at him.

Boy, it’s about time.  The Hall of Fame has been all about longevity, and numbers, for the past decade or so, and Jim Ed Rice would fall a bit short in both categories.  But, between 1976-1979, in my opinion, there really was no better player in all of major league baseball.

This is a guy who broke his bat while checking his swing.

Twice.

Because they are very, very excellent.

By about 11:00, Eastern Standard Time, I had planned to cry myself to sleep, and maybe not eat for the next few days.  But, I changed my mind.

Because they are excellent.

These are good times.

Really good times.  Fabulous times.

Somewhere down the line, My People will forget how incredibly lucky we have been for the past few years.

The only saving grace is that it will be easier to get tickets.

Is it safe to talk about books these days?  I think it is, although I may be proven wrong.

I just finished Curtis Sittenfeld’s American Wife, and found it very unsettling, indeed.  Like Prep, I thought it was extremely well-observed, without being particularly engaging–or entertaining.  But, American Wife was a strange, and puzzling, choice, for a novelist to make.  The notion of a stranger publishing an extremely personal and speculative version of a person’s actual life is–I don’t know–unseemly. Rude, even.  It will certainly make the author rich, but I’m pretty confident that the author was already rich, so I’m not sure I see the point.  I would say that the entire project borders on stalking–except that I think it crossed the border, relocated to a new country entirely, settled down and began to grow crops.  (and if you find the Buffy reference in there, you’re good)

I suppose that Primary Colors was an unnecessary novel in a very similar way, but somehow, it seemed less–prurient.  Or, maybe just less scatological.  Then again, Joe Klein, for all his failings as a pundit, is simply a more compelling writer.  I suspect that Ms. Sittenfeld was aiming for Theodore Dreiser–which might have been a damned interesting creative choice, and a really good book–but, ended up with–well–Olivia Goldsmith, instead.  (It doesn’t help that the last third of the novel is a rushed blur, and clearly the result of trying to hit a demanding deadline schedule.)

American Wife is worth reading, and–sort of–ambitious, but after I finished it, I was left feeling as though I should go wash my hands.

I’m currently about halfway through Giles Blunt’s By The Time You Read This, which I’m enjoying.  A nice, solid book.  It won’t reinvent the wheel, but then again, it wasn’t designed to do so.

What else?  The Camera, by Ansel Adams.  Dense, demanding–and very informative.  Actually, I hope to read the entire series, but I’m starting with The Camera.  (Here’s a great article about photography, by the way, on an excellent site.)  Fletcher Knebel and Charles W. Bailey Il’s surprisingly not-as-dated-as-you-would-think Convention. A book about fishermen called Their Fathers’ Work.  Everything the Instructors Never Told You About Mogul Skiing–because, even though such things are probably out of my reach, it can’t hurt to try to improve.  Red Sox Rule–for no other reason than because I feel like it.

And I was completely delighted to pick up an affordable secondhand copy of The New Professional Chef, which I had wanted for a really long time.

I haven’t read The War Within yet, but I assume I will, at some point.

And–it scarcely needs saying–but, go, Red Sox!

I must be candid.  When I first heard that Senator McCain had chosen Governor Sarah Palin to be his running mate, I laughed my head off.  In fact, I laughed for about two days straight.  Not derisive laughter, mind you.  I laughed because the pick was audacious, savvy–and profoundly stupid.

Then, various pieces of information began to surface (nope, not going to go into detail about things most people already know, and which would further invade other people’s privacy), and the situation moved from funny–to bizarre.

Only, she turned around and gave quite a good speech.  Far better than the ones by the other three members of the two tickets, in my opinion–and for anyone who didn’t get the memo, a vice presidential pick is routinely expected to be an attack dog.  The fact that Governor Palin can be vicious–and still look so very cheerful and friendly at the same time–kind of appeals to me, and some (not all) of her criticisms of the Democratic nominee are concerns that I share.  I’m also not going to pretend to be upset about the fact that, in November, either a person of color or a woman is going to be elected.  How can anyone spin that into anything other than good news, and a sign of tremendous progress?

But, I have to say that if you kill wolves–or anything else, for that matter–you are not My Pal.  Not now.  Not ever.  In fact, it made me scrape up some spare cash and send it here.

I have also–grimly–purchased an Obama/Biden 08 hat, but I haven’t worn it yet.

Nevertheless, I am not a fan of people who decide that if you don’t agree with them on every single issue, across the board, you are evil.  Only the Yankees are evil.  Profoundly evil.  Inescapably evil.  Even when the issue involves abortion and choice.  I don’t like abortion, either.  Is there anyone who does?  But, the point, for me, is that people must be free to make their own choices about their own bodies and their own lives,and the government–or any religion anywhere–should not be involved.  However, I still allow for the possibility that reasonable people can agree to disagree in a civil manner–and I’m damned if I’ll make an “of course, I support the idea of women in public office, just not this woman” argument.  For people keeping score at home, that was the logic which destroyed Senator Clinton–who would probably have been a very fine President, and really would have won in November.  Judging from the many articles and blogs I have wasted countless hours reading lately, no one is spewing more invective towards Governor Palin than self-described liberal feminists.  What I have learned during this campaign season is that it is considered very, very bad if Republicans make unpleasant, inflammatory and divisive remarks; but, if Democrats do the same thing, it is excellent!  And if they are passive-aggressive about it or use clumsy surrogates (see Obama, Senator Barack), so much the better!

I say, enough already.  Governor Palin and I have many different beliefs.  So what?  I don’t have to vote for her.  I don’t even have to be fond of her.  But, I don’t have to spout out a bunch of spiteful things simply because we don’t share much common ground.  Senator McCain was quite right when he said (I paraphrase) that Americans are tired of everyone yelling all the time.  Although, honestly, we talk a lot about sexism and racism, and yet I can’t help wondering whether classism is what really rules this country–and this election.

Many Democrats seem to be enjoying having fun at Governor Palin’s expense, but I suspect it will all seem less jolly in November.  Instead, they should really be afraid.  Very afraid.

On a happier note, go, Patriots!

Boy, how embarrassing is that?

I joined for the most foolish of reasons–which I can admit here, because it is not a secret.  I, quite frankly, signed up in order to be able to spy on a much-loved child, and make sure no shenanigans were taking place.  The child and I were both quite open about this and, in fact, give each other quite a lot of space.  But, we poke each other regularly and the like (Hey, it’s a Facebook thing; what can I tell you?), and all seemed to be well.

But then, it turns out–oh, the ignominy!–that Facebook has games.  Lots and lots of games.  I like games.

First, I was playing a game called Triumph.  There were soldiers involved.  It seemed like great fun–until it got entirely monotonous, after a remarkably short period of time.  (I have subsequently discovered that most of the people in the game were cheating madly, and creatively, and that was what made it continue to seem entertaining for longer periods of time.)  But, I was bored, so I moved on to Dope Wars, where I joined a predominantly Malayasian drug cartel–and became remarkably good at the game, and made many new friends from all over the world.

However, it was awkward, when a bright-eyed, bespectacled nine-year-old in my life asked, happily, in the elevator, if I was currently selling crystal meth–or heroin?  And I, without thinking, said, “well, the profit margin for the crystal meth seems to be higher.”  I won no friends among our fellow passengers.

However, the Dope Wars application was fatally flawed, and one entirely un-golden day, I could no longer access said game, without encountering dreadful configuration problems.  So, it was on to King of the World.  King of the World is excellent.  I now belong to a large and ruthless multi-national alliance–with an absolutely dreadful reputation within the game; mostly because we play with great abandon, and display remarkable teamwork for people who live in wildly varying time-zones.

But, teamwork requires a non-stop flurry of messages on each other’s Royal Walls, and our discussion boards (plus, the friendly conversations I generally end up having with the people we are attacking), and Facebook decided I must be a spammer, and sent me what is known as The Dreaded Red Box–wherein, I was to be eliminated from the site at once, if I did not mend my garrulous ways.

So now, I am trying to be very, very silent–which is hard.  My teammates and I can take ourselves over to MSN, or even use good old-fashioned email–and how scary is it that email seems slow and clunky and antediluvian, in this context?–but, it’s just not the same.  I am trying to stay quiet for an entire week, which is thought to be the amount of time the mysterious Orwellian Facebook Police (who respond to no forms of contact, answer no questions whatsoever, and are known to make arbitrary and final decisions) require, in order not to delete one’s account.

But, this has made me think about a couple of things.  First of all, does it make any sense that a social networking site would go out of its way to discourage–socializing?  If anyone has an answer to that paradox, I would be deeply curious to hear it.

The situation has also made me think about teams.  It is a subject which has come to mind often lately, particularly since I am a member of a few teams–which directly resulted in my being injured in a very frightening, egregiously unsportsmanlike, and unnecessary way last week, with an uncertain prognosis.  (the details are not particularly relevant, or interesting.)  But, this event has–much to my dismay–definitely put me in an “exactly when is it time to hang up the old cleats?” frame of mind.

I have been a Democrat since I was a small child, and always considered that a team, except that once the Party embraced Unity, it turned out that the only change was that it is now making a point of excluding millions of its former members in a startlingly hostile and dimwitted way.  Then again, I continue to be one of those old-fashioned and currently unpopular people who really do support the 1st and 4th Amendments–and believe in the right to privacy, the freedom to marry whomever one wishes to marry, and a person’s unfettered ability to make personal medical decisions for him or herself.   I also do not like off-shore drilling or abrogating  the separation between church and state, or denouncing and repudiating–and insulting–anyone who dares to disagree with me–which means that, apparently, I am no longer a Democrat.

Which leaves me with very limited options politically–and little or no stomach for continuing to follow the current campaign season, except in the most vague and casual way.

Luckily, I have a more reliable and entertaining team to watch.  One of the best right-handed hitters of the modern era was traded to Hollywood–and the Red Sox are so very much better off.  Tremendous talent did not change the fact that he was hurting the team, and his replacement certainly seems to be working out, so far.

Few things interest me less than the New York Jets.

Finally, on the subject of teams, this episode has its moments, but is not one of my favorites.

I want to read this,  and am already reading this one, but expect to have better things to do than spend good money on this.  Fortunately, the world is full of fine libraries.

In fact, I adore puppies.  Lots of puppies.  I am partial to German Shepherd puppies, but really, all puppies are excellent.  I’m not sure that there is any such thing as a non-adorable puppy.

I am also fond of kittens.  All kittens.  Well, okay, maybe not this kitten.  (No, wait, I like that one, too, and have even been known to wear this shirt out in public.)

And this is a very sobering piece of information.  Take heed!

Do I like baby robins?  You bet!

And butterflies?  Yes!  Especially monarchs.

Is is possible to be much cuter than this?  No, it is not.

Is this an appropriate gift for a baby?  Of course!

One of my favorite charities is the Best Friends Animal Society.  I haven’t been able to do it yet, but I have heard that they actually permit you to spend your vacation there, taking care of strays and just generally pitching in around the sanctuary.  This appeals to me.

I anticipate that tomorrow’s disturbing and controversial blog subject will be–gumdrops.  Or flowers.  Or ice cream.  Or mittens.

Or maybe just this, and everyone can go out and buy their own copy.

Until then, I leave you with this.

Which, if you watch Battlestar Galactica, should frighten you a great deal.

He is certainly brilliant, extremely attractive to many, and has a messianic appeal, which baffles and eludes a good number of sensible adults–of which, I like to consider myself one.  And, if these guys show up, I would absolutely expect Senator Obama to respond the same way Baltar did.

What can I say?  For me, it’s Roslin all the way.  Always has been, always will be.

All half-kidding aside, Senator Obama has failed to impress me from the very beginning.  At best, this is the person I see.  Mostly, though–despite knowing that this opinion is likely to make me very unpopular–I see someone who cares more about winning, than he cares about principles, and who is mainly just interested in his own political fortunes–which look very good, at the moment, given the utter and continuing ineptitude of his current opponent.

The FISA vote is just one example of the evolution of The Chosen One to Mr. Expediency.  (Here is the actual text of the bill, if you have a little time on your hands.)  He could have done this, but he didn’t.  Making the convenient choice to abandon public financing doesn’t thrill me.  Waffling on choice really doesn’t thrill me.  (No, NARAL, your check is not now–nor, from now on, will it ever be–in the mail.  I daresay I’ll send a donation here, instead.)  I am also strangely fond of the First Amendment, so the hue and cry over the recent New Yorker cover is very tiresome, indeed.  It does, however, obfuscate the very mixed profile contained within the actual issue, which may have been the campaign’s–clever and opportunistic–intent the entire time.  However, this Slate writer has a nice line:  “Only weak thinkers fear strong images.”

Is it possible that the invariable humorlessness of the Obama campaign is what I dislike most of all?  Yes.  The fall-out from the not-all-that-shocking cover reminds me of Robert Redford’s lament to Barbra Streisand in The Way We Were, when he tells her (I paraphrase), after she falls apart when being heckled during an impassioned political speech, “You had them, Katie. If only you had just laughed.”  It is probably very, very wrong of me to think this article is funny.  (I am sure this is funny–but, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been wrong.)

And, since I’m one of those wacky people who deplores the death penalty, and thinks the Second Amendment does not mandate an individual’s right to own firearms, you can imagine how excited I am about the Senator’s slippery positions on those two issues.  The idea of spending four to eight years of living in this world is just exhausting.  If we’re very, very lucky, we may catch a break for the next few days, and neither Senator Obama, nor any members of his campaign, will feel the need to denounce or repudiate anyone.  But, there seems to be no shortage of people for them to insult, so, don’t hold your breath.

Yet, I am a pragmatist, and–by relying on precedents like Griswold v. Connecticut–I would be willing to allow the current misinterpretation of the Second Amendment remain permanently unchanged (with the proviso that the phrase “well regulated” be applied, as well), in exchange for an ironclad agreement that Roe v. Wade would also remain untouched, in perpetuity.  Seems like a fair trade to me, and could, in fact, be justified by accepting the notion that in the United States, an individual does retain a right to privacy, and that the government should not be allowed to interfere with a person’s ability to exercise that right.  (which, all things being equal, means that the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” disastrous policy would also be struck down at once, that Proposition 8 would be defeated in California, and that euthanasia would no longer be an area in which the government is permitted to interfere in any way.)

Not that it will ever happen–but, wouldn’t that strategy solve a lot of huge problems and issues which divide so many Americans, in a matter of seconds?

Remind me why Mr. Gore didn’t run again?

By the way, nice work, if you can get it.

I’d kind of like to read this, although I might wait until fall, and I think this one can definitely wait for a paperback edition, or a trip to the library.  But, even though I was underwhelmed by the first two books this writer published, I’m not going to lie–I’m really might curious about this.  It looks like good, trashy fun.

I never thought I would be entertained by fifteen endless innings of an All-Star game–but, I was.  Three cheers for J.D. Drew!

As far as I can tell, no one has more fun than these guys.  I never imagined a world where the Red Sox would get to celebrate, on a regular basis.  Life as a Red Sox fan always felt like this.

But, last night, something extra-special happened.  Two years ago, Jon Lester was a twenty-two year old rookie–with some back pain.  Unfortunately, to the shock of everyone involved, the diagnosis turned out to be cancer.  (Mike Lowell, the Red Sox third baseman, is also a cancer survivor, as it happens.)   Thankfully, he was able to fight the disease off, and resume his career–and in October 2007, guess who won the last game of the World Series?  Yes, that would be Jon Lester.

And last night, the man (nope, I’m not going to call him a “kid,” because I think he’s a Man) threw a no-hitter.  The last time a Red Sox left-hander accomplished that feat was in 1956.  So, what Mr. Lester did was very special–and his back-story only makes it more so.   It was great.  Really, really great.

This week, another young Red Sox player was diagnosed with cancer, and I just heard the sad news about Ted Kennedy, also.  And we can’t forget all of the people who are bravely fighting this disease (and other terrible diseases), day in and day out–but, not in the public eye.  I know–and admire–a few of them; I bet you do, too.

I am going to go right now and send a donation to one of my favorite charities, The Jimmy Fund.