Skip to main content

Strange February So Far

From the title, you would think something crazy happened in the first three hours, but the reality is it's been very quiet.  As usual, I can not sleep and I'm not the least bit tired.  I had a very uneventful last day of January and squandered the beautiful weather.  To be honest, I'm a little angry at myself.  It would have been a great day to spend outdoors and originally I had planned on spending today in NYC, hitting up some restaurant for Restaurant Week.  Instead, I sat around all day doing pretty much nothing and my fine dining consisted of an English muffin with cream cheese, a salad of lettuce, tomato and tuna fish and the night was capped off with a Celeste pizza.  I am starting a diet next week and I'm going to track all my calories.  I figured today would be a good test run...A little less than than 800 calories, about 25 grams of fat, 70 carbs and 50 protein.  When I start, I want to cut down that carb number and hike up the protein intake.  We'll see.

So it's a little after midnight and I wrote something on Rutger Hauer's twitter page.  To my surprise, he almost immediately responded.  Not that big a deal, but pretty cool nonetheless.  I mean this guy was the freaking Hitcher!

I had been thinking about something else while checking twitter and then I decided to write out a formula for finding the best hitter in baseball.  I then used this formula in comparing the top four vote getters for each MVP race last year (Obviously, Verlander won, but this was just hitters).  I found that Braun edged Kemp by .004, but beat out Fielder by .093.  The American League was a different story.  Vote getters 2-5. Were Ellsbury, Bautista, Granderson and Cabrera in that order.  Using my formula Bautista was the clear winner (of the four), edging Granderson by .015, Cabrera by .033 and Ellsbury by a whopping .053.  I then checked last years MVP and found that Cabrera should have beat out Josh Hamilton.  I'll definitely check some others out.  Why did I do this?  Well, I've long been annoyed that the best mind in baseball, Bill James, came up with a certain formula in 1985 and it was something I had been doing to rate players at the age of 1980.  Bill James is rich and famous and I'm, well not!  Plus, I'm obsessed with numbers as anyone who really knows me will tell you.

I then started thinking about the coming week.  My grandmother's 99th birthday is tomorrow and I'm going up to see her with my brother and his wife on Friday.  We're having a little party for her on Saturday afternoon, which should be great.  I also start up my spring session at the school on Friday, although I'm still not sure if it's one or two classes.  I also need to get my contract in before then. I keep forgetting to ask someone to print it out for me.  Finally, Sunday is the Super Bowl.  I'm looking forward to the game, but I'm also looking forward to the break from the craziness that has been Sundays lately.  I guess now I need a formula for who will win.  I know who I want to win, but that doesn't mean I think they will win.  We'll see. 

I also have something hanging over my head, which I'm gonna skip discussing, but it's truly bothering me.  I have to address it and soon.  Time is of the essence is truly a cliche, but in this case it is exactly truthful.  So, February started off a little weird and should continue I would assume.  I wish I had a formula to figure it all out.  Maybe I'll give it a little more thought.


Popular posts from this blog

11 Rules of Life - Bill Gates?

I read this on Facebook this morning.  A friend had posted it and said that every child should have to receive this. I of course read it and started to think.  I immediately wondered who really wrote this, as I rarely see things like this attributed to the proper person.  I immediately found it was written by Conservative Charles J. Sykes when he wrote a book about how America is dumbing down our youth.  I read it twice and started to wonder how true it was.  Below is a link to the actual picture I saw.

So let's look at each of the rules and analyze them.

Rule 1: Life is not fair — get used to it! - Life is not fair in that we are not all afforded the same opportunities based on race, creed, color, socio-economic background, but in general, those who are afforded the same opportunities to succeed are very often rewarded for their individual efforts.  Sure there may be underlying circumstances, but hard work is proven to pay more often than not and those who strive for success, migh…

Out Of Options

Two winters ago, I was in a bad place. Physically, financially, but especially emotionally. Life, which has rarely been anything I could view as fair, had really begun to weigh me down. I was living in a motel room, paid for by my brother while awaiting a move to another state. A little late research revealed my soon-to-be new home was a bit of a nightmare. Think of Melrose Place with meth and hookers. The idea of flying halfway across the country with my cat, Swag, and less than $200 in my pocket was scary. Leaving everything I knew wasn't what scared me, it was knowing deep in my heart, I'd never return. 
It's always easy to put off keeping up with people when you're close, but as I've learned over the last four years, distance tests friendships, even those we view as true. One can't imagine the alienation of being broke, physically unable to walk, and having to rely on a motel staff's daily pleasantries to remind yourself you're alive. At times I que…

In Memoriam

For Shane

Yesterday, I sat in the library, thinking of you. As I pored over vegan recipes, tales of medieval monks, and descriptive biography of Yasujiro Ozu, I thought about you more. Who else could I call and discuss all three? Who else would be able to add insight to my last meal, movie, and chapter? I was tempted to walk, arrive work sweaty, but feeling accomplished, but a bump in the rode arose and I found myself driving. You'd have scoffed, claimed I took the easy way or accused me of always avoiding the circuitous route, in favor of ease. I'd agree, then buy you a beer.

Last night, I thought about us twenty-five years ago, maybe more. Rows of six dimes stacked on the bar. Cold Schaefer puckering our lips. Commenting on the old-timers, of which I am now one. You're not here to share those moments, that repartee or the serious moments we often shared. With every meal, movie and mountain life throws at me, I miss you more. There were years where we only spoke once. Thi…