Today, Maryland will open the doors to it's fifth gambling house, The Horseshoe Casino. This latest casino, in downtown Baltimore, is located on Russell Street, a short distance from M&T Bank Stadium and Camden Yards.
It seems just like yesterday, when Bob Erhlich was Governor, Baltimore's former Mayor Martin Owe'Malley described casinos as a "morally bankrupt" way to fund education*. But now he seems to think that they're the best thing to hit Maryland since the steamed crab. Let's face it, casinos are a cash cow. And if a new casino stops Owe'Malley from raising my taxes for a week, I guess I should be OK with it.
The current Mayor of Baltimore, Stephanie Rawlings-Blake, has plans on using tax revenue from the Horseshoe to reduce property taxes and to increase funding for school buildings and recreation centers around the city **. Yeah, I think we've heard this story before. Two years from now, Baltimore will have new financial woes and will be raising those same property taxes to fund education, build new rec centers, blah, blah, blah....
Will there be big money flowing through Baltimore's latest attraction? Without a doubt. However, I expect to see a slew of problems follow closely behind. For instance, the Horseshoe is located a short distance from thousands of low-income residents. These are the very people who should not be gambling. But recent studies tell us that these folks will be very likely to get lured into those ever-elusive slot-machine jackpots. And those most at risk for gambling addiction are low-income/low-education, single black and Hispanic males between the ages of 18 and 29. A quarter of Baltimore's residents already live below the poverty line. What effect will the enticement of thousands of brightly lit slot machines have on these people?
The Horseshoe Casino cost almost a half billion dollars to build. And that will likely be a drop in the bucket to the amount of money it will generate.
And as if Baltimore doesn't have it's share of crime problems, the attraction of people walking in and out of the casino with wads of cash will prove to be a bit too enticing for the average street thug. I can already see unsuspecting tourists getting rolled by moped gangs.The new casino will likely turn into another urban babysitting adventure for many of Baltimore's patrol cops.
And let's not overlook to the traffic issue. With the added congestion due to the casino, can you imagine the backups you're going to hit when the Orioles or Ravens are in town? Tonight, the O's have a game at Camden Yards and there is already a strong urging to use to light rail to get downtown.
The location itself is a bit surprising to me. If you've ever driven into the city via Russell Street, I think you agree that it's not exactly the "scenic route". I guess the planners were trying to capture some that Atlantic City spirit?
Personally, I'm not much of gambler. My idea of "high-rolling" consists of putting $20 on a game of Keno at The Greene Turtle. But if you want to throw some money at a craps table or slots machine, be my guest. But just remember, Maryland might be the "Free State", but be sure to bring your wallet...
kw
* http://articles.baltimoresun.com/2012-08-22/news/bs-ed-maryland-gambling-20120822_1_casino-backer-convenience-casinos-sixth-casino
** http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/with-the-horseshoe-casino-baltimore-adds-to-the-urban-gambling-jackpot/2014/08/25/3b0ae492-28a3-11e4-8593-da634b334390_story.html
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Ferguson Rages On
Watching all of the events unfold in Ferguson, Missouri over the past week has left my head spinning. But as the investigation rolls on, it's appearing more likely that the cop in this case, Officer Darren Wilson, was justified in the shooting death of Michael Brown.
I read a recent report* that stated Wilson suffered a orbital fracture of the eye socket from being punched by Brown. According to the report, Wilson was severely beaten, almost to point of unconsciousness just before the shooting. When Wilson subsequently pointed his handgun at Brown and informed him that he was under arrest, Brown allegedly charged at Wilson. And that's where the party ended for Brown. If this is indeed true, it's going to be hard to sympathize with the "gentle giant", especially if he charged at Wilson after crushing his face. But even if all signs point to a justified police shooting, I suspect that the protests will continue.
I'm sorry folks, the "No Justice No Peace" mantra is sounding more and more like a load of bullshit in this case. If the cop turns out to be vindicated, then what? Do we continue to torch and loot the town because we didn't get our desired outcome? What bothers me about this whole situation is that these protesters had already convicted this cop before the first shred of evidence came in. And the media, doing what they do best, continued to fuel the narrative to combustible levels.
After two autopsies had already been conducted, Attorney General Eric Holder, called for a third one by federal medical examiners. My first question is.....How do you effectively do a third autopsy? It seems that after the first one, the evidence would have already been "tampered" with. And if all the autopsies are telling us the same story, at what point do we accept the results and move on to the next step?
Speaking of Eric Holder, here's another related tidbit. When it was discovered that a video existed of Michael Brown robbing and bullying a convenience store owner shortly before the shooting, the Justice Department urged the police department not to release it**. They said that it might "inflame tensions". Inflame tensions? How? By showing that this kid wasn't the choirboy that they wanted you to believe? So, we now have the man who initially tried to squash the facts is now in charge of the federal investigation. What could possibly go wrong?
I wonder why anyone would want to become a cop these days. They go out and put their lives on the line everyday only to be thrown to the wolves when they're forced to defend themselves. It's kind like soldiers who are thrown into a war zone only to have their hands tied behind their backs with the "rules of engagement". Speaking of which, it will be interesting to see what will happen in Ferguson now that the National Guard has moved in.
A Grand Jury will begin to hear testimony today to determine if there's enough evidence to bring charges against Officer Brown. If they decide not to indict him, watch out because all hell's gonna break loose.....
kw
* - http://www.foxnews.com/us/2014/08/20/missouri-cop-was-badly-beaten-before-shooting-michael-brown-says-source/
** - http://www.nbcnews.com/storyline/michael-brown-shooting/feds-urged-police-not-release-michael-brown-robbery-video-n182346
I read a recent report* that stated Wilson suffered a orbital fracture of the eye socket from being punched by Brown. According to the report, Wilson was severely beaten, almost to point of unconsciousness just before the shooting. When Wilson subsequently pointed his handgun at Brown and informed him that he was under arrest, Brown allegedly charged at Wilson. And that's where the party ended for Brown. If this is indeed true, it's going to be hard to sympathize with the "gentle giant", especially if he charged at Wilson after crushing his face. But even if all signs point to a justified police shooting, I suspect that the protests will continue.
I'm sorry folks, the "No Justice No Peace" mantra is sounding more and more like a load of bullshit in this case. If the cop turns out to be vindicated, then what? Do we continue to torch and loot the town because we didn't get our desired outcome? What bothers me about this whole situation is that these protesters had already convicted this cop before the first shred of evidence came in. And the media, doing what they do best, continued to fuel the narrative to combustible levels.
After two autopsies had already been conducted, Attorney General Eric Holder, called for a third one by federal medical examiners. My first question is.....How do you effectively do a third autopsy? It seems that after the first one, the evidence would have already been "tampered" with. And if all the autopsies are telling us the same story, at what point do we accept the results and move on to the next step?
Speaking of Eric Holder, here's another related tidbit. When it was discovered that a video existed of Michael Brown robbing and bullying a convenience store owner shortly before the shooting, the Justice Department urged the police department not to release it**. They said that it might "inflame tensions". Inflame tensions? How? By showing that this kid wasn't the choirboy that they wanted you to believe? So, we now have the man who initially tried to squash the facts is now in charge of the federal investigation. What could possibly go wrong?
I wonder why anyone would want to become a cop these days. They go out and put their lives on the line everyday only to be thrown to the wolves when they're forced to defend themselves. It's kind like soldiers who are thrown into a war zone only to have their hands tied behind their backs with the "rules of engagement". Speaking of which, it will be interesting to see what will happen in Ferguson now that the National Guard has moved in.
A Grand Jury will begin to hear testimony today to determine if there's enough evidence to bring charges against Officer Brown. If they decide not to indict him, watch out because all hell's gonna break loose.....
kw
* - http://www.foxnews.com/us/2014/08/20/missouri-cop-was-badly-beaten-before-shooting-michael-brown-says-source/
** - http://www.nbcnews.com/storyline/michael-brown-shooting/feds-urged-police-not-release-michael-brown-robbery-video-n182346
Monday, August 18, 2014
Ferguson On Fire
The other morning, I turn on the TV as I'm taking my first sip of coffee. My mind was still in a bit of a slumber. As the television came to life, it greeted me with a scene of total chaos. Smoke was bellowing through the crowded street as police in riot gear dodged Molotov cocktails and other projectiles from the angry mob. I assumed it was just another violent clash between the Israelis and Palestinians halfway across the world.
But as the news caption appeared on the bottom of the TV screen, I saw that this clash was actually in our own backyard, in Ferguson, Missouri. The recent violence is a reaction from a recent police shooting in which an unarmed black teenager was killed by the police. The details from the investigation are still coming in.
The media, once again, inflamed emotions as they initially reported that the teenager was basically a college-bound choirboy. A few days later, however, a video appeared which showed the 300-pound choirboy shoving a small convenience store owner around as he walked off with his stolen goods. This reporting is similar to the way the media initially reported the Trayvon Martin incident.
As a result of the all attention and racial tensions in Ferguson, media whores Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson quickly entered the scene. These two guys are absolutely worthless in these situations. Instead of helping to calm racial tensions, they only them inflame them. If these two assholes really wanted to do something for blacks, maybe they should address the widespread black-on-black violence that occurs in inner cities all over America. But, of course, there's no one to shake down for a profit in most of those situations.
The name of the cop involved in the Ferguson shooting was initially withheld for concern of his safety. Although the cop's name was eventually released, there haven't been any photos that I'm aware of. Since this story has been spun as "another white cop shoots an unarmed black man", wouldn't it be ironic is the cop happens to be black? I wonder what Super Jesse's response would be to that?
Speaking of the identity of the cop, some irresponsible media outlets went as far as showing the cop's home. If something happens to this cop as a result of this, these media sources should be held directly responsible.
With more looting occurring over the weekend, police were, more or less, told to stand down and try to "keep order" by let the looters do their thing. Meanwhile, most store owners had to stand back and let their businesses be ransacked. Some store owners, however, picked up their own guns and stood in front of their stores, refusing to become the next looting victim.
What is the purpose of all the looting anyway? A unarmed teenager gets shot by the police. Ok, I get why that would produce a reaction. But does it really make sense to steal from and vandalize the local businesses that had absolutely nothing to do with it? And let's be honest here. Most of these looters couldn't care less about the shooting victim. Instead, they're just using this unfortunate incident to get some free stuff.
As a result of the escalating violence in Ferguson, a curfew has been implemented and the National Guard has been called in.
The rioting is a by-product of the "No Justice No Peace" mantra that we've seen before in these situations. Is the reaction justified? I don't know, maybe we should wait and see if the shooting was justified first?
No doubt, to be continued........
kw
The media, once again, inflamed emotions as they initially reported that the teenager was basically a college-bound choirboy. A few days later, however, a video appeared which showed the 300-pound choirboy shoving a small convenience store owner around as he walked off with his stolen goods. This reporting is similar to the way the media initially reported the Trayvon Martin incident.
As a result of the all attention and racial tensions in Ferguson, media whores Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson quickly entered the scene. These two guys are absolutely worthless in these situations. Instead of helping to calm racial tensions, they only them inflame them. If these two assholes really wanted to do something for blacks, maybe they should address the widespread black-on-black violence that occurs in inner cities all over America. But, of course, there's no one to shake down for a profit in most of those situations.
The name of the cop involved in the Ferguson shooting was initially withheld for concern of his safety. Although the cop's name was eventually released, there haven't been any photos that I'm aware of. Since this story has been spun as "another white cop shoots an unarmed black man", wouldn't it be ironic is the cop happens to be black? I wonder what Super Jesse's response would be to that?
Speaking of the identity of the cop, some irresponsible media outlets went as far as showing the cop's home. If something happens to this cop as a result of this, these media sources should be held directly responsible.
With more looting occurring over the weekend, police were, more or less, told to stand down and try to "keep order" by let the looters do their thing. Meanwhile, most store owners had to stand back and let their businesses be ransacked. Some store owners, however, picked up their own guns and stood in front of their stores, refusing to become the next looting victim.
What is the purpose of all the looting anyway? A unarmed teenager gets shot by the police. Ok, I get why that would produce a reaction. But does it really make sense to steal from and vandalize the local businesses that had absolutely nothing to do with it? And let's be honest here. Most of these looters couldn't care less about the shooting victim. Instead, they're just using this unfortunate incident to get some free stuff.
As a result of the escalating violence in Ferguson, a curfew has been implemented and the National Guard has been called in.
The rioting is a by-product of the "No Justice No Peace" mantra that we've seen before in these situations. Is the reaction justified? I don't know, maybe we should wait and see if the shooting was justified first?
No doubt, to be continued........
kw
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Passing Out & Catching Fire - Games Kids Play
Just when you think you've heard it all, another tale of idiocy smacks you right across the forehead. Apparently, there are some new games that the kiddies are playing these days. Let's start out with something they call the "pass-out game".
Now, when I first heard about the pass-out game, I figured it was just some teenagers who were experimenting with alcohol. Hey, most of us remember that cheap thrill of downing a 16-ounce can of malt liquor. But this is way beyond that. Apparently, in a twisted attempt to get high, kids are now strangling themselves! Yes, that's right. They're finding creative ways to cut off the blood supply to the brain with the ultimate goal of losing consciousness. Although the asphyxiation is usually self-induced, in some cases, "friends" will assist in putting you to sleep. These are probably the same friends who will draw all over your face with a Sharpie while you're passed out.
Using popular social media sites like Facebook and YouTube, teens are video-recording their pass-out adventures and posting them online. As a result, the game is gaining popularity. Peer pressure is a contributing factor as some kids view the game as a rite of passage. Remember the good ol' days when Little League was considered a rite of passage?
In some cases, the kids will pass out and wind up cracking their head on the floor. I heard of one girl who passed out and fell through a glass table. She wound up severing an artery in her neck and ultimately died. There have been over 80 reported deaths from this insanity since 1995. By the way, if this "game" has been around for almost 20 years, why am I just hearing about it? I guess I need to start paying closer attention to the news....
As if this wasn't crazy enough, I've also read about another group of Darwin Award candidates who are participating in something called the "fire challenge". The object of this game is to pour a flammable liquid onto your skin and then light yourself on fire. No, I'm not making this up. In most cases, the kids are able to quickly extinguish the flames before any major damage is done. But some unfortunately fools aren't so lucky and wind up with serious burns. As with the pass-out game, teens are quick to post their flaming exploits online. A recent YouTube search on the term "fire challenge" brought up up tens or thousands of videos.
Fire prevention representatives are asking parents and teens to sit down and talk about the consequences of the fire challenge. So, we now have to sit down with teenagers and explain that fire is hot? Are you kidding me? I guess while we're explaining the dangers of fire, we should also inform them that food and water are essential to sustain life. No sense in assuming anything here.....
kw
Now, when I first heard about the pass-out game, I figured it was just some teenagers who were experimenting with alcohol. Hey, most of us remember that cheap thrill of downing a 16-ounce can of malt liquor. But this is way beyond that. Apparently, in a twisted attempt to get high, kids are now strangling themselves! Yes, that's right. They're finding creative ways to cut off the blood supply to the brain with the ultimate goal of losing consciousness. Although the asphyxiation is usually self-induced, in some cases, "friends" will assist in putting you to sleep. These are probably the same friends who will draw all over your face with a Sharpie while you're passed out.
Using popular social media sites like Facebook and YouTube, teens are video-recording their pass-out adventures and posting them online. As a result, the game is gaining popularity. Peer pressure is a contributing factor as some kids view the game as a rite of passage. Remember the good ol' days when Little League was considered a rite of passage?
In some cases, the kids will pass out and wind up cracking their head on the floor. I heard of one girl who passed out and fell through a glass table. She wound up severing an artery in her neck and ultimately died. There have been over 80 reported deaths from this insanity since 1995. By the way, if this "game" has been around for almost 20 years, why am I just hearing about it? I guess I need to start paying closer attention to the news....
As if this wasn't crazy enough, I've also read about another group of Darwin Award candidates who are participating in something called the "fire challenge". The object of this game is to pour a flammable liquid onto your skin and then light yourself on fire. No, I'm not making this up. In most cases, the kids are able to quickly extinguish the flames before any major damage is done. But some unfortunately fools aren't so lucky and wind up with serious burns. As with the pass-out game, teens are quick to post their flaming exploits online. A recent YouTube search on the term "fire challenge" brought up up tens or thousands of videos.
Fire prevention representatives are asking parents and teens to sit down and talk about the consequences of the fire challenge. So, we now have to sit down with teenagers and explain that fire is hot? Are you kidding me? I guess while we're explaining the dangers of fire, we should also inform them that food and water are essential to sustain life. No sense in assuming anything here.....
kw
Thursday, July 31, 2014
A Night Out At Camden Yards
So, Tuesday night I went at the the O's game with the guys. In addition to the game itself, I always enjoy watching the people in and around the stadium. Every person has their unique idiosyncrasies. Some are crazy while others are quite boring. Of course, we'll skip over the latter, because, well, they're boring...
Out of sheer habit, our first stop was Pickles Pub. We usually stop here (or the Bullpen next door) to grab a couple of cheap Natty-Boh's. Yeah I know it's a pretty shitty beer, but there's unwritten rule that says that you have to down at least one Natty-Boh before, during or after an O's game. So, that we did. As it gets closer to game time, Pickles Pub gets absolutely jam packed. Deciding that we didn't want to be turned into veal, we mosied on over to the nearby Diamond Tavern.
The Diamond Tavern is part of the Hilton hotel located directly across the main gate to Camden Yards. It's a nice place to grab a beer and relax before the game. We grabbed an outdoor table where we could burn a cigar without offending too many people. As a bonus, I had a great view of all the people making their way into stadium. Of course, my buddies immediately recognized my focused gaze and pointed out, "Look at Ken. He's taking all of this in for his next blog." What can I say, except guilty as charged...
The first thing I noticed was the ticket hawkers. One minute, a guy would be yelling, "Tickets? Anybody got any extra tickets?" And then, before you knew it, the same guy was holding up several tickets and yelling, "Tickets here! Anybody need a ticket?" It was like watching a David Blaine trick. But actually, he was buying cheap tickets off of one guy and then immediately turning around and reselling them for a profit to another guy. I guess you could classify that as a bit of street magic.
I noticed that one of the other ticket guys looked like he had spent the day smoking crack. His eyes were all glazed over and he appeared to stumble as he walked through the crowd. Probably not the best image for a budding sales entrepreneur. Another guy was wearing a "Justice For Trayvon" t-shirt as he tried to hawk his tickets to the passing fans. Probably not a good idea to wear such a polarizing shirt while you're trying to move your product. But what do I know?
Once we made our way into the stadium, the first stop was the beer stand for a round of ridiculously priced brews. Camden Yards, in addition to being home to Baltimore Orioles, is also home to the world's most expensive Natty Boh. Nowhere else can you find such an inferior beer for such an extravagant price.
As we headed towards our seats, an usher insisted on showing us how to get there. My friends and I are all reasonably intelligent adults. I think we could have figured out where our seats were on our own. But, of course, this was just the usher's way of fishing for a tip. Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.
As we sat down, the game was already under way. A few minutes later, a grumpy, old rich guy makes his way through the row in front of us. Apparently, a group of youngsters were mistakenly sitting his seats. So, the old man, instead of telling them nicely, acts like an arrogant prick and condescendingly dismisses the group. The guy deserved to get hit with a foul ball but he had to settle for some peanut shells from my friends. Karma eventually caught up with this guy. I'll come back to him shortly....
There was also a loud-mouthed, drunken Angel's fan sitting a few rows behind us. When Angel slugger, Mike Trout came to the plate, the guy started chanting, "MVP-MVP-MVP!" Ok, I get it. He's a fan and he's entitled to cheer for his favorite player. Well, Trout wound up striking out. As O's fans, we're certainly entitled to break the guy's balls, right? After all, Camden Yards is our house. So, right after the 3rd strike on Trout, we all started chanting, "MVP-MVP-MVP!" The crowd around us got a kick out of it. But the angry Angels fan got pretty pissed.
A short time later, O's 3rd baseman, Manny Machado got picked up if 2nd base to end the inning. This brought our favorite Angels' fan running down to steps and screaming, "Take that, All-Star! You ain't all that!" It sounded like Rocky Balboa talking to Mr. T. The guy was lucky that we were sitting in the good seats. If he would have done this in the upper deck, he might have had a beer bottle bounced off of his head.
To be fair, not all of the Angels were bad. There was a group of muscle heads sitting a few rows in front of us who just sat back and watched the game. I'm glad too. The last thing we needed was to get into a pissing contest with them. In what have probably ended with them kicking our asses and offering us as a sacrifice to the Angel's dugout.
There was also an attractive woman in the front row who kept walking up and down the steps in her very tight Angel's shirt. I must say, it was a very nice looking shirt. After her third pass, we almost started cheering for Los Angeles. "Charlie's Angel" was a reasonable offset for the antagonizing Angels fan that I mentioned earlier.
Anyway, the game went on. Both teams battled back and forth, but the O's ultimately won the game on a 12th inning walk-off homerun by none other than Manny Machado. As soon as Manny hit his bomb, every O's fan immediately turned around to give our favorite Angels fan some well deserved crap. But the guy was already running towards the exit. As he hurried out, he gave the crowd the finger. Real classy. Hey, if you're going to talk bullshit, you should be able to take it too.
Now, back to the grumpy rich guy. After he left, in about the 8th inning, a young woman came over and sat in his seat. When the game was over, she stood up and stretched. Then, the guy in front of her pointed out that there was a wad of money under her seat. She counted it out, it was probably about $100 or so. It had obviously fallen out of the grumpy rich guy's packet. She split it with the guy who pointed it out. Normally, I would have frowned on something like this. But, since the old man was such a prick, he deserved to lose $100. Yes, karma can be a bitch.
It was a fun night catching a ball game with my buds. The weather was great and the O's won in dramatic fashion. We were all dragging the next day. But it was well worth it!
kw
Out of sheer habit, our first stop was Pickles Pub. We usually stop here (or the Bullpen next door) to grab a couple of cheap Natty-Boh's. Yeah I know it's a pretty shitty beer, but there's unwritten rule that says that you have to down at least one Natty-Boh before, during or after an O's game. So, that we did. As it gets closer to game time, Pickles Pub gets absolutely jam packed. Deciding that we didn't want to be turned into veal, we mosied on over to the nearby Diamond Tavern.
The Diamond Tavern is part of the Hilton hotel located directly across the main gate to Camden Yards. It's a nice place to grab a beer and relax before the game. We grabbed an outdoor table where we could burn a cigar without offending too many people. As a bonus, I had a great view of all the people making their way into stadium. Of course, my buddies immediately recognized my focused gaze and pointed out, "Look at Ken. He's taking all of this in for his next blog." What can I say, except guilty as charged...
The first thing I noticed was the ticket hawkers. One minute, a guy would be yelling, "Tickets? Anybody got any extra tickets?" And then, before you knew it, the same guy was holding up several tickets and yelling, "Tickets here! Anybody need a ticket?" It was like watching a David Blaine trick. But actually, he was buying cheap tickets off of one guy and then immediately turning around and reselling them for a profit to another guy. I guess you could classify that as a bit of street magic.
I noticed that one of the other ticket guys looked like he had spent the day smoking crack. His eyes were all glazed over and he appeared to stumble as he walked through the crowd. Probably not the best image for a budding sales entrepreneur. Another guy was wearing a "Justice For Trayvon" t-shirt as he tried to hawk his tickets to the passing fans. Probably not a good idea to wear such a polarizing shirt while you're trying to move your product. But what do I know?
Once we made our way into the stadium, the first stop was the beer stand for a round of ridiculously priced brews. Camden Yards, in addition to being home to Baltimore Orioles, is also home to the world's most expensive Natty Boh. Nowhere else can you find such an inferior beer for such an extravagant price.
As we headed towards our seats, an usher insisted on showing us how to get there. My friends and I are all reasonably intelligent adults. I think we could have figured out where our seats were on our own. But, of course, this was just the usher's way of fishing for a tip. Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.
As we sat down, the game was already under way. A few minutes later, a grumpy, old rich guy makes his way through the row in front of us. Apparently, a group of youngsters were mistakenly sitting his seats. So, the old man, instead of telling them nicely, acts like an arrogant prick and condescendingly dismisses the group. The guy deserved to get hit with a foul ball but he had to settle for some peanut shells from my friends. Karma eventually caught up with this guy. I'll come back to him shortly....
There was also a loud-mouthed, drunken Angel's fan sitting a few rows behind us. When Angel slugger, Mike Trout came to the plate, the guy started chanting, "MVP-MVP-MVP!" Ok, I get it. He's a fan and he's entitled to cheer for his favorite player. Well, Trout wound up striking out. As O's fans, we're certainly entitled to break the guy's balls, right? After all, Camden Yards is our house. So, right after the 3rd strike on Trout, we all started chanting, "MVP-MVP-MVP!" The crowd around us got a kick out of it. But the angry Angels fan got pretty pissed.
A short time later, O's 3rd baseman, Manny Machado got picked up if 2nd base to end the inning. This brought our favorite Angels' fan running down to steps and screaming, "Take that, All-Star! You ain't all that!" It sounded like Rocky Balboa talking to Mr. T. The guy was lucky that we were sitting in the good seats. If he would have done this in the upper deck, he might have had a beer bottle bounced off of his head.
To be fair, not all of the Angels were bad. There was a group of muscle heads sitting a few rows in front of us who just sat back and watched the game. I'm glad too. The last thing we needed was to get into a pissing contest with them. In what have probably ended with them kicking our asses and offering us as a sacrifice to the Angel's dugout.
There was also an attractive woman in the front row who kept walking up and down the steps in her very tight Angel's shirt. I must say, it was a very nice looking shirt. After her third pass, we almost started cheering for Los Angeles. "Charlie's Angel" was a reasonable offset for the antagonizing Angels fan that I mentioned earlier.
Anyway, the game went on. Both teams battled back and forth, but the O's ultimately won the game on a 12th inning walk-off homerun by none other than Manny Machado. As soon as Manny hit his bomb, every O's fan immediately turned around to give our favorite Angels fan some well deserved crap. But the guy was already running towards the exit. As he hurried out, he gave the crowd the finger. Real classy. Hey, if you're going to talk bullshit, you should be able to take it too.
Now, back to the grumpy rich guy. After he left, in about the 8th inning, a young woman came over and sat in his seat. When the game was over, she stood up and stretched. Then, the guy in front of her pointed out that there was a wad of money under her seat. She counted it out, it was probably about $100 or so. It had obviously fallen out of the grumpy rich guy's packet. She split it with the guy who pointed it out. Normally, I would have frowned on something like this. But, since the old man was such a prick, he deserved to lose $100. Yes, karma can be a bitch.
It was a fun night catching a ball game with my buds. The weather was great and the O's won in dramatic fashion. We were all dragging the next day. But it was well worth it!
kw
Monday, July 28, 2014
Saturday Night At The ER
Whether it's for yourself or another unlucky individual, it's never fun when you have to make a trip to the emergency room. Being surrounding by sickness, injuries and sheer bizarreness isn't exactly my idea of a good time.
Last Saturday night, Tina's dad had an issue and we eventually found ourselves sitting in the ER of a local hospital. As he was prepped and tended to, we knew it was going to be a long night. (By the way, Tina's dad is still in the hospital, but he'll be fine).
Now, the first issue of waiting in an ER is the comfort factor. I really believe that hospitals go out of their way to find the most uncomfortable seating possible to furnish their waiting areas. Ironically, after about 15 minutes of sitting in one of these torturous chairs, my back was so wrecked that I thought that I was going to need medical treatment. Looking around the room, it appeared that I wasn't alone as several people were twisting and stretching in a futile attempt to work the knots out of their backs.
As I scanned over to look at Tina, she appeared to be getting nauseous. I asked her if she was ok. She then directed my attention to a young couple sitting across the room. As the guy was slumped over, his girlfriend appeared to be totally obsessed with popping the zits on his back and neck. I tried to quickly look away as I threw up in my mouth a little. I've experienced many WTF moments in my life. But this was way beyond that. She methodically went from one zit to the next with great precision. All I can say is that she must have really loved the guy. Or maybe she was just strung out on meth. I really felt bad for the unsuspecting fools who sat in those seats next..
Looking beyond the zit-popper, we saw another guy who was puking. While I could certainly understand why he might be throwing up, it appeared more like he had his ass kicked by Jack Daniels after a long night of drinking. I silently wished that he would confine his puking to his side of the waiting area.
A short distance from us was an older couple. The man was in one of those mobile scooters that you see the seniors fight over at Walmart. Anyway, the guy would do a short lap around the seating area every few minutes. I couldn't understand what the reason was for this.
After a couple hours, I was exhausted. So, somehow in spite of everything going on around me, I managed to slip off to sleep. That was short-lived as I was awoken by a guy having a loud conversation on a cell phone. The guy, who resembled Snoop Dogg, carried on his slurred banter for about an hour. His contribution to the conversation consisted of, "Nah......Why you do that......Are you serious......Yup, yup......Nah, f*ck dat."
As the night wore on, the waiting room began to look like a Jim Jones Kool-Aid party. In twisted and contorted positions, people were sprawled out all over their seats. One guy had his head cocked sideways as he drooled onto the armrest. Another woman was snoring loud enough to muffle out Snoop Dogg. Even the guy with zits seemed to be passed out. And yes, his girl continued to work on his back as he lay comatose across her lap. She was dedicated, I'll give her that.
We left the hospital shortly before sunrise. I was exhausted and disturbed. I couldn't wait to get home to my own bed where it was clean, quiet and zit-free........
kw
Last Saturday night, Tina's dad had an issue and we eventually found ourselves sitting in the ER of a local hospital. As he was prepped and tended to, we knew it was going to be a long night. (By the way, Tina's dad is still in the hospital, but he'll be fine).
Now, the first issue of waiting in an ER is the comfort factor. I really believe that hospitals go out of their way to find the most uncomfortable seating possible to furnish their waiting areas. Ironically, after about 15 minutes of sitting in one of these torturous chairs, my back was so wrecked that I thought that I was going to need medical treatment. Looking around the room, it appeared that I wasn't alone as several people were twisting and stretching in a futile attempt to work the knots out of their backs.
As I scanned over to look at Tina, she appeared to be getting nauseous. I asked her if she was ok. She then directed my attention to a young couple sitting across the room. As the guy was slumped over, his girlfriend appeared to be totally obsessed with popping the zits on his back and neck. I tried to quickly look away as I threw up in my mouth a little. I've experienced many WTF moments in my life. But this was way beyond that. She methodically went from one zit to the next with great precision. All I can say is that she must have really loved the guy. Or maybe she was just strung out on meth. I really felt bad for the unsuspecting fools who sat in those seats next..
Looking beyond the zit-popper, we saw another guy who was puking. While I could certainly understand why he might be throwing up, it appeared more like he had his ass kicked by Jack Daniels after a long night of drinking. I silently wished that he would confine his puking to his side of the waiting area.
A short distance from us was an older couple. The man was in one of those mobile scooters that you see the seniors fight over at Walmart. Anyway, the guy would do a short lap around the seating area every few minutes. I couldn't understand what the reason was for this.
After a couple hours, I was exhausted. So, somehow in spite of everything going on around me, I managed to slip off to sleep. That was short-lived as I was awoken by a guy having a loud conversation on a cell phone. The guy, who resembled Snoop Dogg, carried on his slurred banter for about an hour. His contribution to the conversation consisted of, "Nah......Why you do that......Are you serious......Yup, yup......Nah, f*ck dat."
As the night wore on, the waiting room began to look like a Jim Jones Kool-Aid party. In twisted and contorted positions, people were sprawled out all over their seats. One guy had his head cocked sideways as he drooled onto the armrest. Another woman was snoring loud enough to muffle out Snoop Dogg. Even the guy with zits seemed to be passed out. And yes, his girl continued to work on his back as he lay comatose across her lap. She was dedicated, I'll give her that.
We left the hospital shortly before sunrise. I was exhausted and disturbed. I couldn't wait to get home to my own bed where it was clean, quiet and zit-free........
kw
Friday, July 25, 2014
Pardon The Interuption
You ever notice how our lives are full of constant interruptions? It seems that you can't have ten minutes of continuous activity without someone or something coming along and getting in the way. And the older I get, the more it pisses me off.
Back in the day, if you were tired of commercials interrupting your favorite TV show, you could subscribe to cable TV and enjoy endless hours of uninterrupted visual entertainment. Sure, it would up costing you a few extra bucks, but it was well worth it. But somewhere along the line, the commercials made their way over into the cable arena. Nowadays, you can't even watch ten continuous minutes of Bar Rescue without a commercial ruining the experience. Of course, we have do have DVR's now. But, mark my words, they will eventually figure out a way to prevent you from skipping through the commercials.
Even when I rent a DVD, I have to sit through a dozen previews before I can even begin watch the main attraction. And if that's not bad enough, they'll sometimes throw in a Coca-Cola commercial to boot. How long before Will Rogers pops up on the screen and I have an usher knocking at my door holding a donation bucket?
Speaking of people knocking at my door....
I cringe when I hear the doorbell ring anymore. The person on the other side of the door will inevitably be:
a) trying to sell me some type of home improvement
b) asking for some type of donation
or
c) trying to convert me into a Jehovah's Witness
Lately, when I hear the familiar ding-dong sound, I immediately grab my phone, a pen and a legal pad. As I open up the door, I pretend like I'm having a heated business discussion. As I raise the legal pad over my head for a dramatic effect, I bark at my phantom business partner through the phone, "I don't care what corporate says. You work out the numbers and make this happen! Am I making myself clear?!"
Then I'll my hand over the phone and turn my attention to the poor sap at my door," I'm sorry, bud. What can I help you with?"
As the guy at the door starts to talk, I'll cut him off, "I'm sorry. I gotta take this."
And then I'll start barking back at the phone, "You know what? This is total bullshit!....What was that?....Are you freggin' kidding me?" By this time, the guy at the door will usually dismiss himself by saying, "You seem really busy. We'll try back again some other time."
I have to admit, I do feel a little bad when I do this to the Girl Scouts or the little league kids.
And here's an interruption that really drives me crazy. You see, I'm a story teller. And when I'm telling a story, I like to take the listeners on a trip so they can feel like they were actually there. I have my own personal idea of how to get them from point A to point B. I like to refer to it as my "flow". So when I'm in the middle of colorful story and someone interrupts me, they totally wreck my momentum. I've gotten to the point now where I'll refuse to resume the story claiming that my flow has been interrupted.
Have you ever been jamming out to your favorite song at a red light only to be interrupted by someone knocking at your window begging for money?
When I fly, I prefer to sit in the aisle seat. I also like to read to pass the time. On the rare occasion, when my arms aren't pinned up like a praying mantis, I like to write. But I find it hard to concentrate on either one of these things for very long due to constant interruptions. If the flight attendant isn't cracking my elbow with the beverage cart, the guy next to me with the overactive bladder will be squeezing past me to use the bathroom every ten minutes. And, even worse than these two, is the kid in the seat behind me who kicks my seat for the entire three hour flight.
With all of these interruptions, it's a wonder that I get anything done......
kw
Back in the day, if you were tired of commercials interrupting your favorite TV show, you could subscribe to cable TV and enjoy endless hours of uninterrupted visual entertainment. Sure, it would up costing you a few extra bucks, but it was well worth it. But somewhere along the line, the commercials made their way over into the cable arena. Nowadays, you can't even watch ten continuous minutes of Bar Rescue without a commercial ruining the experience. Of course, we have do have DVR's now. But, mark my words, they will eventually figure out a way to prevent you from skipping through the commercials.
Even when I rent a DVD, I have to sit through a dozen previews before I can even begin watch the main attraction. And if that's not bad enough, they'll sometimes throw in a Coca-Cola commercial to boot. How long before Will Rogers pops up on the screen and I have an usher knocking at my door holding a donation bucket?
Speaking of people knocking at my door....
I cringe when I hear the doorbell ring anymore. The person on the other side of the door will inevitably be:
a) trying to sell me some type of home improvement
b) asking for some type of donation
or
c) trying to convert me into a Jehovah's Witness
Lately, when I hear the familiar ding-dong sound, I immediately grab my phone, a pen and a legal pad. As I open up the door, I pretend like I'm having a heated business discussion. As I raise the legal pad over my head for a dramatic effect, I bark at my phantom business partner through the phone, "I don't care what corporate says. You work out the numbers and make this happen! Am I making myself clear?!"
Then I'll my hand over the phone and turn my attention to the poor sap at my door," I'm sorry, bud. What can I help you with?"
As the guy at the door starts to talk, I'll cut him off, "I'm sorry. I gotta take this."
And then I'll start barking back at the phone, "You know what? This is total bullshit!....What was that?....Are you freggin' kidding me?" By this time, the guy at the door will usually dismiss himself by saying, "You seem really busy. We'll try back again some other time."
I have to admit, I do feel a little bad when I do this to the Girl Scouts or the little league kids.
And here's an interruption that really drives me crazy. You see, I'm a story teller. And when I'm telling a story, I like to take the listeners on a trip so they can feel like they were actually there. I have my own personal idea of how to get them from point A to point B. I like to refer to it as my "flow". So when I'm in the middle of colorful story and someone interrupts me, they totally wreck my momentum. I've gotten to the point now where I'll refuse to resume the story claiming that my flow has been interrupted.
Have you ever been jamming out to your favorite song at a red light only to be interrupted by someone knocking at your window begging for money?
When I fly, I prefer to sit in the aisle seat. I also like to read to pass the time. On the rare occasion, when my arms aren't pinned up like a praying mantis, I like to write. But I find it hard to concentrate on either one of these things for very long due to constant interruptions. If the flight attendant isn't cracking my elbow with the beverage cart, the guy next to me with the overactive bladder will be squeezing past me to use the bathroom every ten minutes. And, even worse than these two, is the kid in the seat behind me who kicks my seat for the entire three hour flight.
With all of these interruptions, it's a wonder that I get anything done......
kw
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