Closing Time

It's been a year since my last proper post to this blog. That doesn't mean I haven't been doing any writing. I started writing for Metsminors.net this past summer. It's a site that covers all the minor league affiliates of my team, the New York Mets. Since July, I've been covering the Las Vegas 51s, the AAA team, which means the next step up for the players is the Big Leagues. When I was a kid, even when I was heading off to college, all I wanted to do was become a sportswriter, specifically,  a beat writer covering the Mets. So the 51s in a way, even though it's still the minor leagues, are the next best thing. It's not a full time gig. I don't get paid; I have to keep my day job. But it's doing what I always wanted to do. So I can't complain. It's been the most satisfying thing I've done in a long time.

As for this blog. I tried to keep it up for as long as I could. Sometimes really reaching for something to write about. Often really stretching to make the post fit the song, or the song fit the post. Sometimes when a month or two would go by, I'd throw up a line or two just to have something here. But at some point my heart just wasn't in it anymore. So I think it's time to close the doors.

Now that it's 2015, Spring Training is just around the corner. A new season, a new beginning. And as a wise rocker once said, "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end..."

Looking Back

Where did the year go?

Let's see... there were all those hours taking care of my Sims in The Sims FreePlay.

Hours and hours each week cleaning the turtle tank.

Aside from that, I feel like I spent most of this year wasting time.

I hardly read any books.

I barely did any writing.

I attended very few social gatherings, even missing ones I usually go to, just because I forgot.

I rarely checked Facebook or Twitter.

I did go to the NYE party last night. But only at the very last minute, I seriously considered just staying home and bingeing on 30 Rock. I only stayed 2 hours and was in bed by 3.

Disengaging... sometimes intentionally, but mostly due to feeling overwhelmed has made this a strange year. At the same time, I went back to church which requires so much engagement. I guess I just need to figure out how to have some balance. Somehow reengage in life, and not take steps back from the good things I've started to do. Occasionally using my elliptical machine, being more careful about my diet, and going to church are all good. I just don't feel like I have the energy for much else. And my default is to just retreat into myself, curl into a ball and feel depressed.

Isn't 42 supposed to be the answer to life, the universe and everything? Shouldn't I have things together by now? Oh well. On with 43...

Come on Feet

I finally got to go back to New York for a visit a few weeks ago. It was great to see Hina and the kids. It had been a couple of years. We did many of the things we usually do when I visit. We went to a Mets game. We visited relatives on Long Island. And since summer was over the kids had school and Hin had work. So one of the days she dropped me off in the City.

I started off at MoMA (53rd and 6th). I hadn't been there since high school so I thought it would nice to see it again. I spent about 3 hours walking around in there. Then I walked over to Rockefeller Center (49th and 5th) and took the ride up to the observation deck. I'd never been up there so that was cool. Then I walked up 5th Avenue...I stopped at Bendel's (56th and 5th). I browsed around up to the 3rd floor, then I hit the street again and headed for the subway at 59th and Lex. I walked a total of 17 blocks, which is nothing in NYC. I got the train out to the Bronx and Hina picked me up. When I got off the train, my feet let me know that they were not happy. I guess sitting down on the train made it more obvious when I got back up. But I pretty much had to limp along the platform on the way to the station exit. When I got back to Hina's I shuffled around the house. My feet felt like the Incredible Hulk had picked me up and used me as a jackhammer. I seriously thought they were broken. Fortunately, my back didn't act up on the whole trip otherwise it could've been trouble. But it was enough. It took a whole day for my feet to recover enough for me to step without pain.

I thought I'd made a good choice of shoes. I wore sneakers. Not supportive athletic shoes, however. But my Kate Spade Saturday PF Flyers. Those flat casual type sneaks,  like Converse All-Stars. No support whatsoever, but they look cool. Bad Choice. The only other shoes I brought on this trip were my Dansko sandals which are pretty comfortable, but I was worried they might rub my pinkie toe as they sometimes do if I walked in them all day. I should have brought my Fluevogs.

Thing is, it's not just those particular shoes that give me trouble. It's every pair lately. Shoes that used to fit and be really comfortable. It's because my feet swell. I retain water like a pregnant woman. That and because of my weight I tend to walk funny, waddling around, wearing down the soles of my shoes on a slant.

My efforts to do more walking thwarted from two directions. If it's not my back, it's my feet. After returning from New York, I went up to Salt Lake City with George. We were there for a Muse concert.  We got a room for the night at the Metropolitan Inn on West Temple and 5th South. So we walked to the venue, Energy Solutions Arena (formerly the Delta Center). It's at South Temple and 3rd West. A total of 6 blocks. But these were Salt Lake blocks. My brother, who is a cop, and walks really fast, kept getting impatient with me. He did not see why I was struggling to make this walk. It was a long walk. Comparable in distance to about 15 NYC blocks. And my shoes kept coming untied. I guess because my feet were swelling, straining at the laces of my normally well fitting and comfy Fluevogs. For the way back after the show, I almost wanted to get a taxi. But I didn't. I'd never hear the end of it.

I actually gave away a bunch of my shoes recently. Some I'd never even worn or only worn a few times. It was so depressing just having them around. When I'm out shopping, I see cute shoes and have to remind myself, even if they fit initially, my feet will eventually render them unwearable. They simply won't cooperate. It's true that my feet are pretty wide, and most shoes that only come in medium width aren't going to fit. But there are some that run big enough that I can get away with it. I've had some that once they were broken in, fit quite comfortably. Otherwise the choice of shoes that come in wide widths is pretty limited. I hate being limited. I'm already pretty limited as far as clothes go. Shoes and accessories are the last refuge for the plus-sized. But lately, it seems like the only shoes I'll be able to wear will be orthopedic ones.

I am...I said

"New York City born and raised, but lately I've been lost between two shores. L.A.'s fine, but it ain't home, New York's home, but it ain't mine no more..."
                                                                      -Neil Diamond

Lately I've been thinking about what it would've been like if my family never left Queens, NYC for the suburbs of Long Island. What would I be like as a City kid? Sometimes I think that one day I'd like to go back. To live there and see what it's like. That's probably not going to happen, for several reasons:

1. I'd need a reeeeaaaaaallly, seriously well-paying job. Those are hard to come by even in the best economic times.
2. I'd have to live in a really tiny apartment. Probably in Queens or Brooklyn.
3. I'd have to depend largely on mass transport, and possibly give up my car.
3a. I'd have to get in better shape, and have the stamina to walk everywhere.
4....Well, those are enough aren't they?

I'd like to think that I could do it. That none of those obstacles would be absolute deal breakers. Maybe I would be lucky enough to get the job. And find a livable apartment. Could I manage the rest?

The thing is, my romanticized ideas are not based in reality. I imagine having season tickets to the Mets. Hopping on the 7 train from my job in Manhattan and spending summer evenings taking in the ballgames. I imagine having the money for nice clothes to wear to the office.

The reality is that we are from what was a becoming a bad neighborhood in Queens. I've no idea what the schools were like. Maybe I would never have made it to college. Probably, I'd have to still live at home. And my closet would be so small I wouldn't have room for many of those nice work clothes.

Mass transport in the city is great. Comparatively. But of course it also comes with mass frustrations. Late trains and buses. Rising fares. Overcrowding. And I just love my car too much. MINIs are great city cars. Parking is a snap, if a place can actually be found. But it's expensive. There's that opposite side of the street nonsense. A garage is a luxury, afforded only by the wealthy. I can just imagine hauling my groceries from the car to my 5th floor walkup. A run to Costco would require many trips up and down.

Now, I just back into my garage, right up to the door. Pop the trunk, and bring the bags right inside. One of many advantages of my little house here. My car is safely parked where no one can hit it, or steal it. I don't share any walls with my neighbors. And I have lots of room. More than I need really. Three bedrooms and 2 and a half baths.

Moving to a tiny New York apartment would seem like a step backwards. A necessary sacrifice, not at all easy for a soft, suburbanite like me.

Even so, I still think it would be great. To be at the center of everything; art and culture, and so much more, in what is still the greatest city in the world. Who could resist?

Don't Dream It's Over

Last Saturday, Cory Monteith, actor, singer and star of Glee was found dead in his hotel room in Vancouver, Canada. He was 31 years old. Reports say he died from a mix of heroin and alcohol and that Cory had struggled with substance abuse since his teens. Those who follow such things knew he had checked himself into rehab in April or May. But this all came as a shock to me. He seemed to be one of those least likely to be mixed up in that kind of stuff. He seemed, like his character Finn Hudson, a goofy, awkward, boy next store with hidden talents. On his Twitter profile he described himself as "tall, awkward, canadian, actor, drummer, person"

 The suddenness of his death is apparent in his last two tweets in which he said:

"What the crap is sharknado. Oh. IT'S A SHARK TORNADO."

Hardly the last words you'd plan. Before that, after a plea for Tornado relief for Oklahoma in May, a two month absence, during which he was apparently in rehab, his first tweet in July was "...so...what did I miss?" He seemed happy, enjoying life. Not that any average Glee fan could claim to know Cory as a person, still, we didn't see this coming. Just goes to show, you never know.

There were so many great Glee moments we have to remember Cory. His portrayal of Finn as a hopeful, goofy, sometimes insecure, oftentimes romantic, but always lovable football jock always made me laugh and smile. I was lucky enough to get to see Cory perform with the rest of the cast here in Vegas during the Glee Live tour of 2011. And now he's gone. Much too soon.

The Summerhouse

My turtles have their very own summer house. It's actually a turtle tub, a large black plastic tub I keep in the garage. I got it so I can put them in there for a few hours each week while I'm cleaning their glass tank upstairs. They have grown too large to fit in the little cardboard carrier boxes I brought them home in. And they hated being shut in those anyway. This way they have freedom and can be comfortable for as long as I need to finish cleaning.

The turtle tub is meant to simulate the environment they would have if they lived in a pond. A pool of water, a ramp for them to climb out and a platform for them to bask in the heat (provided in this case by a lamp, I bring the lamps from upstairs so I don't have to keep two sets). Pretty similar to their tank setup, but they don't need a water heater. It's already plenty hot in the garage. I'm guessing in the winter I'll have to bring the water heater down as well, but for now it's fine without it. I have a spare filter going which they probably don't really need for such a short time, but it may help a bit keeping the water circulating and filtering out at least a bit of the waste they produce.

I got the second filter to see if it worked better on my tank. I've tried 3 so far, and the original one still seems to do the job best. At least it keeps working even when full of muck. The others got clogged and stopped working within a couple of days. It's frustrating because I've spent a lot of money trying to get the best setup to keep things clean and the turtles happy. But they are mischievous and messy little critters and not much keeps them from mucking things up. They like to mess with the filter tube, turning it in the opposite direction. They have detached the tube assembly from the filter housing a few times which stops it working. I keep telling them they need to leave it alone. And though they have excellent hearing, strangely they don't seem to hear my admonitions.

I love them though. They are not cuddly, but when I can watch them climb out of the water, basking in superman pose, neck and limbs stretched out, they look so vulnerable and beautiful.

Baseball Field

This year the Las Vegas 51's have been taken over as the AAA affiliate of the New York Mets. They play at Cashman Field just north of downtown. So of course we were excited! George and I got Dad a season ticket package for his birthday. We got him a 10-game pack with 2 plaza seats. So at least one of us could go to each game with Dad.  I've gone to a few others on my own as well. I think we should go to as many as possible. The Mets only have a 2-year player development deal with the 51's so it's possible that they can go elsewhere after that. But until then we have them. Tomorrow's Mets. Or even today's. Several players have been up to the big club already this year. Omar Quintanilla, Zack Wheeler, Carlos Torres and Juan Lagares to name a few. And some have come the other direction.

Right now Ike Davis is with the 51's, trying to get his swing back. He's struggled so terribly that the Mets sent him down to regain his confidence. I've been to see him play twice. Dad and I went last Sunday to see the game, but Ike was having a day off. We saw him coaching 1st base for that game. He probably won't be down here too much longer. But in the meantime, both Josh Satin and Zach Lutz have been up with the Mets. Lucas Duda has gone onto the DL so Andrew Brown is also currently up with the team. I had a chance to meet Andrew and chat with him at the Season Ticket holders' bar-b-que just before he was called up. Andrew was called up 3 days later, and on the 4th day he hit a home run to tie the game for the Mets. So it's a pretty cool thing to get to know our 51's and then see them succeed with the big club. In years past, we'd always go to a game or two each season. But we didn't care as much since they belonged to Toronto, and before that, the Dodgers. Now they are Mets, it's a whole different experience.

Sitting at the game on Sunday, me and Dad were talking about our early experiences with baseball. Dad was a Dodgers/Giants fan before the teams moved to the west coast. When the Mets were born in 1962, Dad had a new team. And so it's been in our family ever since. I went to my first game in 1983, 30 years ago now. I had the thought that I've been watching baseball as long as David Wright has been alive. Wow. It really makes you feel old. Especially with Zack Wheeler's debut, as the first Met who was actually born in the 1990's.

But this game endures. Generation after generation. No matter what other sports or games or other amusements may come along. Our national pastime is forever. When I think of the hours I've spent watching, the occasional highs and many lows of being a Mets fan, I can't think of anything I'd have rather been doing. Just being able to go to a game, see the green of the grass, the precise chalk lines, the pitcher's mound, and the dirt around the bases. Anything can happen there. Men can run out there and become heroes. And I just have to watch.