12eight

The following are instances of rain that I have encountered over the last 3 days.

• Light rain, while driving with my friend Rose to acquire a U-Haul in Oshawa, Ontario.  You see, silly person that I am, I expected that - when I reserved a U-Haul in Toronto - I would be getting a U-Haul that was actually in Toronto, which as it turns out is a pretty large city.  Instead, I got a U-Haul in Oshawa.  Oshawa is not that large a city, and also suffers from being about 40 miles away from Toronto.  Having no car myself, this was something of an issue for me.  Luckily, however, Rose came through with the offer of a two-hour drive; one hour with me to Oshawa, and then another on her own back to Toronto.  Given that my only other alternative was a $100 cab ride, I am deeply and eternally grateful.
• Heavy rain, while attempting to maneuver my acquired U-Haul into the drive of my apartment building, while also not killing the various meditators that lined the sidewalk.  You see, I (used to) live next to the Chinese consulate in Toronto, which was a fascinating locale; there was a 24/7/365 Falun Dafa (or, colloquially, Falun Gong) presence outside, along with the occasional Free Tibet march.  The Falun Gong were a great deal quieter than the Tibet people.  They mostly sat, meditated, and handed out well-produced brochures.  Frequently, but irregularly, they would gather en masse and line the street, doing various prayer exercises, or just sitting on mats cross-legged.  The latter was the protest method of choice Saturday afternoon, in the pouring rain, and their presence impeded somewhat on my driveway; attempting to back a large truck that has something approaching zero reasonable visibility into a driveway is bad enough, but trying to do so while also not killing peaceful protesters is another thing entirely.
• Pouring, Cascading, Two-of-Every-Animal rain, as I loaded the heaviest things into the truck.  This was a lot of fun.  First the couch, which my friend Rob (aka Smith) had earlier helped me move from my top-floor apartment to the lobby.  Then the various pieces of bed frame, the desk, the chair, etc.  I had to pass through maybe 2 feet of exposed air from my front door to the back of the truck, and yet was drenched almost instantly.  My furniture managed to survive.
• Rain remnants, on the benches of the patio of the Duke of York, my erstwhile local beer-vending establishment.  After it had been wiped clean, I was duped into two beers and forced into a shot of liquid cocaine (note for my parents, and anyone else's: not real cocaine), approximately 5 hours from when my alarm was going to go off the next day.
• Traffic-halting rain, between the Lee rest area at Exit 2 of the Massachusetts Turnpike and Springfield, MA.  My friend Eben, who leaves a bit east of Springfield, last heard from me at 4:30, at which time I had called him to tell him I'd be there in a half-hour.  an hour and a half later, I arrived.  The vast majority of the interim was spent sitting behind three bikers, all of whom appeared to be in their sixties, chatting happily in the downpour.
• Media orgy over rain, as Katrina gave New Orleans some difficulty.  I watched a fair amount of coverage this morning, and was suitably impressed.  My favorite part was watching the moron reporters, all of whom repeated the same basic steps: first, telling everyone how dangerous it is outside, while pointing the camera at a tree, or similar tall but bendy item.  Second, discussing the flying debris.  Third, tossing themselves into the wind for no reason other than - I assume - their news director's fervent hoes that one of them would be decapitated by aluminum siding, for the ratings.  Fourth, repeating how dangerous it was, and how they should probably go inside.  Also upsetting: Katrina has eclipsed 1990's Hurricane Andrew as the costliest hurricane in US history.  Andrews everywhere weep tonight.
• Threat of rain, while unpacking the truck with my father's much-appreciated assistance earlier today.  It did in fact rain, but not while we were working.
• Finally, game-delaying rain, after the 2nd inning of the first Sox game I have seen in Boston since April.  I watched from the comfort of my parents' home, after having been fed large meals.

So, the move is done, the truck unpacked and returned, and the Red Sox won tonight (no matter how hard they tried to lose).  Oh, and I successfully got my car back, so tomorrow I plan on taking a bit of a reminiscent tour of the Boston area.  All of this is deeply exciting.  I'm sure for you as well.

Don't worry, at some point I'll start writing about baseball again.

I'm here ('here' meaning 'Boston').  Since my last post, I have had many adventures, and withstood many trials.  That, of course, means that at some point - possibly as early as tomorrow - I get to bore you with stories of the move (my current favorite involves a U-Haul, a rainstorm, and the Falun Dafa.  Seriously.)  But tonight, after being on the road for 14 hours (in the truck for 12 of them) I pretty much need to lose consciousness immediately.

Have a good one, kids.

So, this is the last Toronto post.  I have to go return my cable modem in a couple hours, and will be cut-off from the interweb until I arrive in Boston sometime Sunday evening.  This also means I'm going to be out of touch with the Sox for three days.  I'm not wild about it, but it is what it is.

A list of a bunch of blogs you should read in my absence (and, actually, all the time) can be found to the right.  And if you happen to be driving on I-90 anywhere between Buffalo and Exit 17 on Sunday, look for a U-Haul and wave.

See ya!

Sprint Canada: Hello, this is [name of guy] with Sprint Canada.  How can I help you today?
Andrew: I'd like to cancel my phone service.
SC: Okay, if I've understood you correctly, you said that you wanted to cancel your phone service.  Is this correct?
AL: Yes.
SC: Okay, I see here that you have long distance service, local service, and wireless service, is this correct.
AL: Yes.
SC: Okay, sir, I see here that your wireless phone has a 2 year contract, so there will be a early disconnection fee associated with this, as you have only had the phone for a year-
AL: I'm sorry, I was actually told that there was no disconnection charge when I signed up for the phone.
SC: No, sir, you see, we have a 2 year contract -
AL: Yes, I understand there's a contract.  But I specifically asked the customer service representative about this when I signed up for the plan, and she specifically told me that there was no cancellation fee associated with that contract.
SC: Well, I see here that she made a notation in your file that you were aware that there was a contract.
AL: Yes.  I was aware there was a contract.  I was also aware that there was no cancellation fee, because that's what I was told.
SC: (silence)
AL: Now, if what I was told before was not correct, then fine.  I just want to make sure.
SC: well, there is a notation here that says you were aware there was a contract.
AL: Yes.  And what I'm telling you is that I was specifically told that there was no fee.
SC: It says here "Customer is aware of the contract, and aware he should keep the original packaging for the phone."
AL: Okay.  When I set up the phone, I knew I was going to only be here for a year.  There were no options other than a two year contract, so I got one.  I specifically asked what it would cost me to cancel the phone early, and she specifically said 'nothing'.  Now, are you telling me that that is not true, or just that I have a contract?
SC: (pause) That's untrue.
AL: Fine.  How much is the cancellation fee.
SC: $200.
AL: *head explodes*

I managed to get it cut down to $100, so yipee for me.

************

And now, getting my cable canceled, I have the dreaded Nice Chatty Woman!

NCW: Hello, welcome to Rogers Cable, my name is [NCW] how can I help you today?
AL: I'd like to cancel my services.
NCW (sounding actually pained and upset): Well... I'm sorry to hear that.
AL: It happens.
NCW: Can I ask why?  Was it something Rogers did?
AL: Oh, no. I'm moving.  To the States.
NC:W: Oh.
AL: So, I can't really stay with Rogers.
NCW: No, I guess not.  Is it a nice part of the States?
AL: Ah, yeah. Nice part.
NCW: Well that's good.
AL: Yep.
NCW: You be careful down there!
AL: I will see what I can do.

We then talked for a little while about her uncle in Boston.

So, first of all, this post is primarily for Reb.  I'm drunk.  I'd place it i the 'very' category.  4 beers, which isn't terrible, but couple it with 3-4 hours of sleep over the last couple mights and only one slice of pizza to eat today, and I'm pretty drunk.  It took me two minnutes to write that, and I' pretty sure I usd the word 'mights' instead of 'nights'.

Second of all, the Red Sox game is still going on.  This is insanity.  I'm farily certain that this is our first 11 inning game.  Also, I may be so drunk that I'm hearing things wrong, as it sounds like Bronson Arroyo is pitching, but hey that can't be right he's a starter!  And there's a person named Gobble warming forKC.  Clearly I'm hallucinating.

While I'm waiting for this game to end so I can go to sleep for a long time, I shall say that I had very nice goodbye shindig tonight, with the history department folks.  Mostly we complained about stuff,which was cool.  I'm done, so what the hell do I care.  Fun night, and I'm very sad I won't get to hang out with these people anymore.

THe bases would apear to be loaded.  I'd really raher we didn't lose this game, especially as the Yanks lost to the Jays tonight.  I'd like to win.  I don't really have a say in it, all told, but in case Francona's in the clubhouse reading this, win the ballgame please.

oh, hey, tht really sucks.  Sac fly, run in, game over.

I'm going tos leep now.

That's right, boys and girls: the thesis is complete.  I just one minute ago dropped the last source into the bibliography; it now has an introduction, a conclusion, and a whole mess of stuff in the middle, it has a grand total of 101 footnotes, and best of all, it kinda even makes sense.  I am now pretty much drunk with fatigue, having spent all day in the University's sleep-inducing main library and all night putting the last touches on the damned thing, but there it is.

And with that, I potentially end my days as a student.  Over the last few months, I've come to realize that academic history - while a wonderful field that I still like very much - is just not for me.  So, come Sunday, I'll be back in Boston, seeking to rejoin the ranks of productive society.  There's still a good bit of packing to do before then, but there is at least no more writing to be done.  If I weren't so damned tired, I'd be jumping for joy; I might do a little bit of that on the walk home from my supervisor's office tomorrow after I hand it in.  But for tonight... sleep.

Does the MLB Comeback Player of the Year voting really need to be sponsored by Viagra?

And additionally, given the player association one normally makes with Viagra, should Jason Giambi really be on the ballot?

Big bonus points to anyone that hasn't spent appreciable time with me and yet still knows what the above is in reference to.

Now that I'm on the verge of beginning Phase 2 of the move (Phase 2, of course, being 'putting things into boxes'), I wanted to do a little photo documentation of the apartment where I've spent a goodly chunk of the last year.  After pulling out my camera - which I do far too infrequently - it occurred to me that I also had a unique blogging opportunity: the cataloging of an apartment's worth of Red Sox and baseball varia, each with its own story (most of which, frankly, are uninteresting).  So, I spent a bit of time after the game yesterday taking a few photos, in the process realizing that a) I have a very small apartment, b) I have a killer view, and c) I own a lot of baseball related stuff.  So, without further ado, I give you:

My Apartment

(click for larger version)

Here it is, in a large part of its glory; my Tiny Canadian Apartment, pictured actual size.  Behind those shuttered doors lies a kitchen no larger than most people's closets; off to the left (out of view) is the bathroom, and along the front wall (also out of view), the closet that is smaller than most people's closets.  The rest, you see.  The couch I bought from an old roommate in exchange for a 1996 Micron computer that was still able to accomplish many tasks, such as turning on, and freezing.  The pink chair is a relic from my parents' former furniture collection; it was dubbed, for no apparent reason, The Chair of Destiny during college. The rest consists of a desk, a slew of boring history books, a bed, and scattered patches of navigable floorspace.  That's an original release Ghostbusters poster there on the wall. Nice, huh?

Where Blogs Come From

This is a new computer; it not only turns on, but it also never freezes, and often blogs.  Yes, those are Deep Space Nine and Monty Python DVD's behind it, and if you can do some clever photo editing, you might be able to lift the numbers of my checking account from the checkbook on the side (note to anyone who actually tries: the account will be closed this week, so hurry before it's too late!) (note to my father: the numbers are not actually visible, it's ok).  The weird gnomish thing on the side there is a strange decoration given to me by an old coworker.  I moved it out of the frame of a different shot because it's weird and would have required explanation; unfortunately I moved it directly into this shot.

Where Game Hats Come From

And no, I didn't arrange them like that just for the photo.  That's where I keep them.  They're also arranged in order of acquisition, because sometimes I'm a nerd who does things like that.  The first is a Red Sox hat that emerged from the primordial ooze at the beginning of time, and has never had the ooze washed off.  The second, a Lowell Spinners hat from my only trip to that stadium, a really long time ago (1996, I think).  The third is a newer, fitted Sox cap that I bought a couple years ago because the old one kept crawling off my head.  Then, of course, we have the LCS champ hat and the World Series champ hat, both of which were waiting for me at home when I flew back to Boston for the parade.  Then we have the famed Hebrew Sox hat, which was a lovely Passover present from family friends, and my Jays hat.  Yes, I own a Jays hat.  I like the Jays, despite Frank Catalonotto.

The Headlines

From bottom to top, we have the Globe sports section front page from October 12th, 1999.  This was the day after the Red Sox completed their comeback vs. the Cleveland Indians to win the ALDS, the final game of which featured probably the greatest pitching performance I've ever seen; an injured Pedro Martinez coming out of the bullpen to pitch 6 hitless innings of relief against the best offense in the game.  Above that are the front pages of the Globe and the Globe sports section from October 28th, 2004, the day after the Red Sox won the World Series.  I was, sadly, unable to obtain the front page from the day after ALCS Game 7; if anyone has a spare, let me know.

The Red Sox Win the Pennant!

(click for larger version)

This looks better at full size, so click on it.  The pennant on the right is the one I've had since... lord knows when.  Since not long after my family moved to Boston.  Considering it's probably 15 years old, it's in remarkably good shape, for a pennant.  The other pennant... is obviously somewhat newer.

Pedro Is Concerned About Your Health

Thy were handing this one out at games in 2001, and I picked it up; it remains a lovely gag piece.  It's become a permanent fixture in the bathrooms of my apartments.  The best part is the little picture, at bottom, of Pedro sitting with Dan Duquette:

It's amazing how uncomfortable Duquette looked at all times.  I mean, here's the perfect opportunity for him to let it all hang out, right?  Chilling on the bench with an obviously relaxed and happy Petey, a nice little candid shot, important cause, and... Duquette wears a full-on suit with wingtips, and sits in a posture that suggests a need for prune juice.  Beautiful.

Surviving Grady

Last season, in an effort to exorcise some ghosts (and obviously get fans in the seats) the independent league Brockton Rox held a Grady Little bobble-arm promotion.  Unfortunately for the Rox, a request was quietly put in by the Sox to cancel the promotion out of respect to Gump. By that time, however, the bobbles had been made and delivered; shortly afterward, they began to appear on E-Bay.  This one was given to me by my father just before I moved up here.  He sits atop my television (Grady, not my father), and at times during the ALCS and WS last year, my eyes gravitated toward him.  "You would have lost this already," I'd say.  The right arm on the doll can be moved up and down, signaling to the pen for Embree.

First of Six

This poster was given to me as a gift by an old friend/co-worker during a day-rip to the Cape in late summer, 2001 (four of us went, all piled into Bret Saberhagen the Car).  It's massively historically inaccurate, of course, as the Sox in those days were known as the Pilgrims, and the World Series was called the 'World's Series', but hey, it's still cool.

Fidel At Bat

(click for larger version)

As I go over these, I'm noticing a trend: they all seem to be gifts.  This suggests two things.  First, I'm cheap.  Second, people like giving me stuff.

This particular item, of course, has nothing to do with the Sox, but it's just too awesome to ignore.  A housewarming gift for my Brooklyn apartment fro my parents, it really kind of speaks for itself.  By the way, the photo was massively staged, and Fidel Castro - despite the urban legend about him - was never a very good ballplayer.  But he did (and does) love the game, as does the rest of the country... I had a chance to go to a few innings of a Cuban baseball game, and the passion in the stands was pretty impressive.

So, that's about it for the baseball stuff, but I can't possibly post this without showing you the best feature of this apartment:

The View

(click for MUCH larger version)

I finally used the very cool PhotoStitch feature of my camera to put this together yesterday, at sunset, which is genuinely amazing this time of year.  The large version is extremely impressive.  Downtown Toronto to the left,  little slivers of Lake Ontario there in the center, and the view out to the west at far right.  The picture came out amazingly well, considering I didn't use a tripod or anything; it' damn close to seamless.  And the view... I will miss the view.  Now that I have this photo, I might try to get it printed and framed so I can take the horizon with me.

Now I'm getting all teary-eyed.  Talk amongst yourselves.

Today's Game Hat:

PREGAME:
After his last start, when it became known that Jonathan Papelbon would rather be known by the full name than by the shortened 'Jon', I scoffed.  For one thing, 'Jon Papelbon' really rolls off the tongue better.  Second, it kinda reminded me of a little kid who tries to make his or her name sound 'older', by using the full first name, or using the middle name, or whatever.  Then, I remembered people used to call me 'Andy'.  So, Jonathan it is.

I'll be getting my first actual look at Pap today, as Sportsnet is running a rare (as in, never before in my recollection) baseball tripleheader.  I'm currently watching the Jays put up a mini-comeback, with a 5 run 7th after going down 15-0 in the first 6 innings.  After that, it'll be off to Edison Field for the Sox-Angels game, and then some other game.

Here's the situation for the Sox coming into this game.  the cream is settling in the AL; the over-performing White Sox are sinking down to manageability, and currently hold a 4.5 game lead over the Red Sox for the best record in the AL.  Meanwhile, today's opponents - the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim of California of the United States of America of the World of the Galaxy of the Universe (no, I haven't let it go yet) - sit only percentage points behind the Sox in the overall AL standings.

Despite this fact, there is angst.  Evan over at Firebrand has a nice post up this morning countering some of it - or at least the anti-Francona portions.  Is this team perfect?  Absolutely not.  The bullpen, despite a fairly major overhaul, remains pretty bad.  The rotation is only mediocre.  The hitting, as usual, is exceptional, and that will win us ballgames, to be sure.  But the fact remains that the above has been true all season, yet the Red Sox have the third best record in the major leagues.  Can we win in the playoffs with this team?  I don't know.  The common wisdom is that you need certain things to win in the postseason, and though I'm not convinced they're all true, we don't have those things.  However, we absolutely can - and I'll go as far as to say will - win the division this year.  We've been winning it for a large chunk of the season, with the same problems we've got now; those problems, through troubling, will not keep us fro being the last AL East team standing.

So, today we defend the 2nd best record in the American League.  Jonathan Papelbon (0-0, 3.48) vs. Paul Byrd (9-7, 3.88), 4:05 pm.

PREGAME, CONT:
Very weird bonehead play just now in the Jays-Tigers game, as The Slowest Man in the Universe, Jays backup catcher Ken Huckaby, drove a ball down the RF line that clanged off the glove of Craig Monroe  Monroe just assumed the ball was foul, from where he was when he touched it, but it was called fair; unfortunately for the Tigers, Monroe didn't notice this, and tossed the ball into the stands.  Huckaby, who is - I swear to god - noticeably slower than even Doug Mirabelli, had 'cruised' into second, then took off for third when he saw the ball get away from Monroe.  Given that, the umps awarded him home plate on the error by Monroe; a double with a 2 base error.  That's the closest Ken Huckaby will come to an inside the park homer in his life.  It's probably the closest he's ever come to a triple.

PREGAME, CONT. CONT:
The Jays just completed their 17-6 loss to the Tigers, and Sportsnet is just gave me a touch of 'bonus coverage' of the Yanks-Chicago game.  Whoever is doing the announcing with Kay sounded frighteningly like Cleveland from The Family Guy.  I was struck.

FIRST PITCH:
A ball to Damon.