Watching the Cubs play the past few days, and even the past couple of weeks, I’ve come to the realization that, with the return of Alfonso Soriano today and Kerry Wood struggling to close out what should have been a Cubs’ win this afternoon, there are lineup and rotation issues that need to be addressed, regardless of players’ salaries or tenure with the organization.  Everyone’s got his or her opinion on the subject, and I’d be happy to discuss or debate with anyone.  Here are my two cents.

First of all, the batting lineup should be something like this:

1. Reed Johnson (CF)
2. Kosuke Fukudome (RF)
3. Derrek Lee (1B)
4. Aramis Ramirez (3B)
5. Alfonso Soriano (LF)
6. Geovany Soto (C)
7. Mark DeRosa (2B)
8. pitcher
9. Ryan Theriot (SS)

First of all, Reed Johnson has earned his way into the leadoff spot these past two weeks filling in for Soriano, and the ballclub is following his lead (yes, pun intended).  He has provided a spark at the top of the order, doing exactly what a leadoff man should do: get  on base.  Soriano has shown prodigious power in the past hitting #1: last year he cranked 33 homers.  However, 23 of those were solo shots.  Imagine how many more RBIs he would have produced hitting lower in the order with men on base.  Fukudome is an on-base machine who constantly frustrates pitchers with his plate discipline.  Opposing teams would have to pitch to him because of Lee hitting behind him.  Plus, Fukudome is a professional hitter who can use the entire field.  I think he’s perfect in the 2 spot: he can move Johnson over (or drive him), and sets the table for the 3, 4, and 5 power hitters.  And that’s exactly what Soriano is: a power hitter.  The Cubs are wasting his power at the top of the order.  Plus, he’s not the runner he used to be.  Sure, he’s been saying that his legs feel fine, but he’s also said that he thinks about his injuries.  So, naturally, he’s not going to be the 40-40 man he once was.  Yes, he’s making a boatload of money.  But what’s best for the team is batting him #5.  Soto is showing the form he did last September: he’s got power to justify hitting #6.  DeRosa is the super-utility man.  Is there any position this guy can’t play?  Batting the pitcher 8th is weird, I know, but Theriot has been swinging the bat well this season, getting on base, running well, and scoring some runs.  Batting him 9th would set up the top of the order.  And having three guys in a row who can run (Theriot, Johnson, and Fukudome) puts pressure on the other team’s pitcher and defense because they are all patient at the plate and therefore get on base, which is always a good thing, no matter how the lineup’s arranged .

Now, regarding the pitching, the starting rotation is fine.  The bullpen, on the other hand, is all kinds of crazy.  I’m just going to come right out and say it: Carlos Marmol should be the closer.  Not the “closer of the future,” but the closer of the present.  Now.  The way I see it, his stuff is too nasty to be used as a setup man.  And even more important than his electric 97-mph fastball with nasty movement and stupid slider is his mentality.  He goes out knowing that his stuff is good enough to get anyone out at any time.  Period.  He’s the definition of “lights out.”  Don’t get me wrong: I like Kerry Wood, and his story is great and he has faithfully remained a Cub for his entire career.  But he’s more suited for the setup role.  He may look cool on the mound, but his pitches tell a different story.  A closer can’t hit batters on a regular basis, nor can he walk batters to start off the ninth.  With Wood, it’s a mental issue.  When he’s settled down, he’s as effective as anyone.  But coming in to save the game is too nerve-racking for him.  Howry should be the seventh inning guy, if needed, Wood the setup man, and Marmol the closer.  End of story.

Oh, and here’s a message for Brewers LF Ryan Braun: Hey buddy, that little bat flip and arm extension after your double in the ninth today was not cool.  Not cool at all.  You weren’t so cocky after Marmol struck you out and made you look dumb earlier in the game.  No need for that garbage.  You made nice contact and scored some RBIs.  Congrats.  Now do your job and run the bases, punk.

It’s been quite a big ten days or so for me.  Here’s a recap:

Two weekends ago, I was in Portland, Maine with Amy, celebrating our two year anniversary.  I’d always wanted to go to Maine, as I’d heard it was a beautiful part of the country and a place I likely would not visit often (if at all) if not for Amy’s companion travel benefits through AirTran.  As we discovered right off the bat, Portland is a beautiful city.  Our hotel was right downtown, mere blocks away from shops and restaurants, which, because of a local city ordinance against chains, were mostly locally owned.  It was very refreshing not seeing a McDonald’s or a Macy’s.  We both were able to find some great buys, and the food was great.  All the hype surrounding Maine lobster is true: it’s that good.  As for the people of Portland, three words describe them: Nicest.  People.  Ever.  No joke, everyone we chatted with, from servers to boutique managers to bar tenders to our hotel shuttle driver, was easy-going, friendly, and warm.

We were supposed to fly back that Sunday, but the afternoon flight out of Portland was completely full, so we were forced to stay another night in Maine.  Damn.  This picture was from the ferry ride we took to one of the islands around Maine where we had some clam chowder, chili, and some microbrew IPA.  In a word, yum.

We were able to fly back to Atlanta the very next day.  After getting some lunch on the hour-long car ride from the airport, we stopped by to pick up the newest addition to my household.  Meet Oreo.

She’s a lab mix who was abandoned at a vet’s office outside of Atlanta.  She and the rest of litter were taken care of by a friend of Amy’s for a few weeks.  Oreo is a sweet, affectionate pup who’s about 3.5 months old.  Amy figures now that I’m done with my school work and have virtually no friends left in Tally, she’d be a welcome companion.  She was right.  As Mike says, Oreo is “too cute.”

While in Portland, I got an email from a school saying they had an opening and that I should contact them if I was interested in the position.  Um, SHyeah!  Fortunately, I was able to get together a cover letter and found a copy of my current CV online (amen for Gmail’s archives) and sent that off right away.  I drove home early Tuesday morning, unpacked, and got Oreo situated in her new digs.  She was amazing on the five-hour car ride here: completely calm and low-key, lying peacefully in the front seat the whole time.  That afternoon, before my serving shift at 228, I had a two-part phone interview with said school, which I thought turned out pretty well.

The next day, I get the long-awaited email from the manuscript clearance advisor: my dissertation was approved!  Halle-freakin’-lujah!!  Finally, after two months of revisions and paperwork, “Form and Style in the Music of U2” was done and done.  That day, I also picked up my cap, gown, and hood for the graduation ceremony.  Only, much to my disappointment, there was no cap.  I mean, really the only reason I did this whole Ph.D. thing was for the damn floppy hat.  So I had to go back to campus the next day and pick one up.  Luckily, they had one in my size, so after several trips to campus and $120 later, my graduation regalia was complete.

Amy drove into town late Thursday night, so we slept in on Friday morning before taking Oreo out with us to lunch at Momo’s.  Yum.  My parents flew in that evening, and from the airport, we went straight to dinner at Rubie Sky.  Again, yum.

Finally, the big day had arrived: Graduation Day.  I’ll spare you the details of the ceremony, except that the guest speaker sucked and that Dr. Clendinning was probably more outwardly excited about my graduation that I was, which was a lot.  It was cute to see her smiling and looking back at me as we walked up the ramp for the hooding.  There were two parts during commencement that I welled up.  The first was just after President Wetherell conferred the doctoral students our degrees and declared, “You are now graduates of Florida State University.”  Hell.  Yeah.  The second was at the end of the ceremony, when Wetherell asked the new graduates to thank those who have helped us the most, particularly our parents.  Indeed, I can’t thank mine enough (but that’s another entry altogether…this one’s long enough already).  After the ceremony, Amy, my parents, and I hung out at my place and had some lunch.  We then went to Marie Livingston’s for an early dinner with Dr. Clendinning.  Yum yet again.  After dinner, we just chilled at home.  It’d been a loooong day.

We took some pictures Sunday morning, and then I went to mass with my parents (I love that “Unconquered” statue).

After mass, we met Amy for lunch at The Red Elephant.  You guessed it: yum.  Amy then headed back to Atlanta, I dropped my mom off at the airport, and my dad and I played some tennis for the first time in months.  I was way rusty, but it was nice to get back on the court, and especially nice to hit with my dad again.  We went out to dinner afterwards (not quite as yum), and the comedown finally hit me.  I was exhausted; it was a busy weekend that just flew by.

My dad left for Houston early yesterday morning.  I worked last night and managed to pull in a nice handle of cash for a slow Monday night.  Which brings me to today (finally).  I just found out (literally, five minutes before typing this entry) that I’ve got a second phone interview next Monday, this time with the whole music theory search committee.  Whew.  Sweet.  Yikes.  Finally, a lead on a job.  The way I see it, it’s great to finally get an interview, but at the same time I’m already quite nervous about it.  I don’t want to blow it, ‘cause it may be the only lead I get for some time.  Here’s to hoping it turns out for the best!

My apologies for being late with it, but (as you’ll read), it was late night last night. Here’s my April 12 of 12:

11:41 AM I normally don’t wake up this late, but Friday night was a late night, so I decided to sleep in a bit.

11:50 AM A screenshot of the daily SET game I play, in an effort to wake up my mind.

11:51 AM On the bluetooth headset, talking to Amy.

11:54 AM A screenshot of the instructions I got to (FINALLY) post my dissertation online.

12:15 PM Skimming through the dissertation for any last-second errors. There were a few, and I’m sure that are several more I didn’t catch. But…

1:36 PM I couldn’t care less. I converted the document to PDF and sent it off for one more formatting review. Please God let it be done.

1:55 PM After showering, I get my work stuff ready. My essential tools behind the bar: my wine key and towel.

1:56 PM CRAP! I’m supposed to be at work at 2. Oops. Suffice it to say, I was a few minutes tardy.

2:46 AM Towards the end of LONG catering, I check my phone only to discover the CUBS lost again. Boo.

3:30 AM $12 in dollars in tips tonight…oh yeah! (It was a hosted bar, so tips were optional. Here’s a tip for: TIP US ANYWAY!)

3:30 AM This is what my undershirt looked like after my shift. It was a dirty job.

3:44 AM Good night. Or good morning. Eh, whatever you call it, it’s freakin’ late and I’m freakin’ exhausted.

I Am Legend is a really good movie.  How Will Smith did not get nominated for his acting is beyond me.  The first hour of the film was pretty much just him and his dog.  Acting with an ensemble cast is tough, but acting by yourself, with only a German shepherd and some digital monsters as your co-stars, has got to be extremely difficult.  I know movies like this don’t typically get nominated for awards, especially this awards season being a “critics” season for Hollywood.  Kudos to Will Smith and the entire I Am Legend team: the story was good, the acting was superb, the visual effects were great, and the message behind the movie is great discussion fodder.

That being said, I recently purchased the special edition of I Am Legend on DVD, complete with an alternate version of the movie.  The first hour of both versions is the same.  However, the differences in the last half hour are vastly different.  The way I see it, the “Icy Inspiration” scene in the alternate version, which is an expansion of the “Marley’s namesake” scene in the theatrical version, and the different ending change the movie’s story and meaning dramatically.  I won’t spoil it for anyone, but it’s an interesting comparison, to say the least.  I’m disappointed that there isn’t a special feature explaining the director’s choice as to which version he decided upon for the theatrical release.  If anyone’s seen the movie and/or its alternate version, or knows anything regarding the alternate version, I’d be happy to discuss.  And if you’ve yet to see the film, I highly recommend it.  Even if the story doesn’t immdediately interest you, the acting (both human and canine…man I love German shepherds!) and the social commentary made by the film’s story is noteworthy.

The hardest part of my day is at the very beginning: getting out of bed is a chore, perhaps the most difficult physical task I accomplish every day. Snooze buttons were made for people like me, those who just can’t drag themselves out of bed without a reminder every few minutes. Every Sunday, ESPN’s SportsCenter has a feature called the “Sunday Conversation.” In it, a prominent figure (usually an athlete) is interviewed and asked to comment on a wide variety of subjects. This Sunday’s interview was with Tiger Woods, perhaps the world’s most recognizable active athlete. I didn’t think it was possible to be more amazed by him: his list of accomplishments on the golf course and his charitable foundation are enough to amaze and inspire even the most cynical people. But there was a part of the interview when Scott van Pelt asked Tiger about his motivation to continue golfing, when he’s already won a dozen majors and millions of dollar. Here’s the exchange:

SvP: You’ve got 64 wins on the PGA Tour, a fortune in the bank. How do you fight the human nature that says, “I’m going to hit the snooze button today. I’m going to take my foot off the gas. I’m going to coast for a while.” Where does the hunger inside of you come from?

TW: I don’t know how you can think any other way….I look at life [like this]: the greatest thing about tomorrow is that I will be better than I am today and that’s the way I’ve always lived my life. I have no understanding why people do hit the snooze button. You have the chance to become a better person…all the different things you can do to become better for tomorrow. I don’t understand why [people] don’t take advantage of that.

Man, the say I see it, if that’s not inspirational, I don’t know what is.

Damn snooze button…

While bar tending last night, one of the patrons made an interesting comment. Actually, it’s one of the strangest statements I’ve ever heard. Meagan and I were talking with another patron about the musical selections playing in the restaurant. He proceeds to turn to his buddy and ask him what kind of music he likes. His response: “Eh. I don’t really like music.”

Um…what?

My response: “Are you kidding? Really? Seriously? What do you mean you don’t like music?” Talk about shock and awe. Truly, I was flabbergasted by this statement. His friend and Meagan were, too. We all just stood there for a few seconds staring at this guy in utter bewilderment. The way I see it, it’s not like saying “I don’t like tomatoes” or “I don’t like baseball.” It’s music we’re talking about. Surely, he’s heard SOMEthing musical that piqued his interest at SOME point in his life. I just don’t understand. Now, I realize I’m slightly biased, being a music major and all, but for the love of all thing good and holy, to just dismiss music as a whole?!? I equate that with saying something like, “Eh. I don’t really like art” or “Eh. I don’t really like movies.” Perhaps you prefer books over the silver screen, or perhaps you may not understand or appreciate Monet, Picasso, or Warhol on a certain level. But to say as a general rule that you don’t like movies or art as a general rule? It’s mind-boggling to me. I will say this, though: You meet some interesting characters tending bar. People never cease to amaze me.

My shift at work tonight was one of “those” nights. You know, those nights when few things (if any at all) go well. My first table, a 2-top, was trying to be funny by “giving me a hard time”: by asking stupid questions, trying to stump me on my menu knowledge, and trying to put me on the spot. Normally, I don’t have too big a problem with this if it’s done in a manner that is clearly jovial; but the way they were going about it was not cool. They were trying to be funny and failing miserably. It was not a great way to start the night. I thought my night was going to pick up when I got a five-top, but alas, it was one of “those” tables. Five women, only four of whom at food, and those who did eat chose to only get one course…of appetizers. Awesome. On the bright side, however, the ladies were nice and tipped reasonably well. The one shining moment came from my next table, who ended up tipping almost 30%. Granted, the check wasn’t very big, but it was nice to get a fatty percentage. As my co-worker, 2-Dee, would say, “Good lookin’ out, ladies!” That euphoria was short-lived, however, as I got another one of “those” tables. This time, it was two-top, who, after asking for my suggestions, didn’t go with any of them and proceeded to ordered only one course: one entree for him and one appetizer for her. Again, awesome. The check ended up being a few cents short of $40, and as I was printing it up, I told the bartender that I don’t expect a lot from this table. “Five bucks,” I said. “I’m aiming low, so as to not get my expectations shattered.” Admittedly, this was not the best outlook on the situation, but after serving tables for a while, I’ve come to expect small tips from some customers. It’s horrible, I know, but it’s the reality of the game. So, the table leaves. I open the check presenter, and what greets me there on top of the charge draft? A wrinkled five dollar bill. I smiled to myself, partly because I totally called it, and partly because it sucked to be right in this instance. I’ve been surprised before, and I guess a little part of me was hoping against hope that this couple would pleasantly surprise me with 15%, maybe even 18%. Alas, no such luck. To make matters worse, my tables weren’t getting up in a timely fashion, thereby causing me to give up an 8-top that walked in late. Wonderful. Not only did I get crappy tips, but I didn’t even get a chance to redeem the night with a big table at the end of the shift. *sigh* Oh well. The way I see it, nights like tonight are part of the service industry, at least in Tallahassee. I’m taking solace in the fact that six months from now, I hope to be teaching somewhere and not worrying how much money I’m going to make at work. Here’s to hoping…

Well, the 2008 Major League Baseball season opened around the country yesterday (the Japan games and the Sunday night game were merely preludes to the REAL opening day). And in true Cubs style, as they have for 100 years now, the Cubs threatened to win a game in thrilling fashion. Trailing 3-0 in the bottom of the ninth (Thanks, Kerry Wood. Your service over the years has been appreciated, but Carlos Marmol should be the closer. Marmol!), the Cubs’ newest and highest-profile acquisition, Japanese import Kosuke Fukudome hit a belt-high 3-1 fastball to right center to tie the game and to write a place into Cubs history. But the euphoria was short-lived, as the other closer candidate, Bob Howry, gave up the winning run in the top of the 10th. I repeat: Carlos Marmol is not the closer of the future. He’s the closer of the present. Thus began the 100th anniversary season of the Cubs’ last World Series victory. The Cubs have a shot to go far: they should win the Central and possibly even a playoff series. After that, however, it’s questionable. We’ll see. I’ll refrain from making specific predictions except for this one: despite the acquisition of Johan Santana, the Mets will NOT get to the World Series. Here’s to hoping Cubbie disappointment doesn’t last another century…

In other news, I was up in Blue Ridge, GA this past weekend, celebrating Amy’s birthday with some friends. Marty flew in from Ft. Worth, Jess flew in from Chicago, and we proceeded to laugh, play, eat, ride, sing, and drink ourselves into a great time. And just for future reference, playing hide-and-seek in a relatively unfamiliar house in the middle of nowhere with all the lights turned out (read: pitch black) with a dozen people is really, really fun. Freaky at times, but a very fun. The cabin was gorgeous, with an amazing view (when it’s not foggy and raining). Here’s what it looked like Saturday afternoon, during one of the breaks in the rain (Thanks to Little Mike for the photo):

Some quotable quotes from the weekend:

“The pig is the horse’s sidekick.”

“(It’s like) warm apple pie.”

“C’mon Amy…I know we’s kin and all, but we gonna leave yo’ ass!”

“Put it in my ass. No, seriously…put it my ass!”

“First time Vegas tranny sex”

As I type this entry, the atomic clock on my wall is telling me that it’s 4:45AM EDT. Lately, I’ve been seeing more and more of the wee hours of the morning, so, needless to say, I haven’t been sleeping well. I’ve found it very interesting the things that go through my head while I’m lying in bed trying to fall asleep, everything from relationships to church music to work to cars to sports to shoes to weather to…you get the idea. My mind cycles through quite a few topics when I can’t sleep. Then I think to myself, “OK, you just need to slow your mind down and not think of so many things.” So I try that approach, which works only some of the time; unfortunately for me, tonight was not one of those nights. Then I try watching a little TV or a familiar movie, which is usually pretty soporific, especially late at night. Again, tonight was not one of those nights. I then get up out of bed and do something completely unrelated to sleep, in hopes that my body will just break down and quit on me, forcing me to pass out. Tonight, I decided to work on my dissertation revisions, thinking that surely THAT would make me sleepy. Yup, you guessed it: tonight was not one of those nights. I’ve been revising now for about an hour and a half ago. On the bright side, however, at least SOMEthing positive is stemming from my inability to sleep. The way I see it, if I’m going to be up this late, I might as well make it worth my while.

OK, I’m going to try to get at least a couple of hours of shut-eye tonight. The clock now reads 4:56AM EDT. Awesome. If you’ve got any suggestions as to how to “cure” this “ailment” of mine, please share. I’m cranky when I’m tired, and no one wants that. Thus ends the ramblings of a raving insommiac. Good night…I hope.

P.S.  The birds have started chirping.  Ouch.