I posted the above graphic on Facebook a few days ago, but find it interesting so I’m posting it here too. It’s supposedly baseball territory, where fans for each team live. So, the Angels and White Sox have no fans? I’m unclear. How accurate is this thing? All I know is… the Reds info seems relatively correct. What are your thoughts?
It snowed here last night, the first snow o’ the season. It’s not much, but it’s enough to cause some elevated profanity production. There’s reportedly a thick layer of ice underneath it, too. I haven’t been out there but both of the boys were bitchin’. …I’m not ready for this crap. Oh well. According to this website, spring training starts in 91 days. That seems like both a long time and right around the corner. How is that possible?
Two nights ago I was in bed, around 12:45, reading. And I heard a very loud roar approaching from far away. It got louder and louder, and whatever it was zipped right over our house, super-loud. It sounded like a big-ass military helicopter, and that shit was moving. The next morning I asked everyone if they’d heard it and they all said no, and were also not interested in discussing it further. But you don’t understand, I shouted, it was really loud and low! The shrugs of emphatic disinterest annoyed me. Why does nobody care?! The younger boy told me it was probably a drone. It shook the house, I hollered. It was no drone, it was a helicopter. Or an extraterrestrial ship of some sort, from a disappointing galaxy where they haven’t figured out how to make their shit silent yet. At that point, he disengaged and made it clear he was only humoring me. Highly unsatisfactory.
Another mystery… Toney and I went out for a couple of beers this past weekend, to a place near us called Tully’s. They have a decent beer selection and really good appetizers ‘n’ stuff. They also fill growlers for a good price, so I took one along. Everything was fine at the restaurant, we had a good time, etc. But when we got home and started drinking the beer from the growler it felt like we were instantly semi-drunk. Indeed, Toney went to bed early because she said she didn’t feel well. And I was quickly heading into “hammered” territory too. WTF? It was just some IPA, with a listed alcohol content of something like 6.5%. Nothing that should launch two seasoned beer drinkers into a state of insta-smashed. We had two beers each at the restaurant, nothing crazy. But once we started drinking the growler beer everything went wonky on us. The weird thing? It was something called Great Lakes New American IPA. And I can find no evidence that it even exists in this world. I did some Google searches and checked out Beer Advocate, as well as the Great Lakes Brewing website. There’s nothing called New American IPA that I could find. What in the pimple popping hell is going on here? What did we drink? It was tasty, whatever it was.
I posted a new episode of the podcast late last night. Here’s the description: In this one, I tell you about the days before cable TV and the crazy exhilarating world that emerged once cable took hold. I go into detail about two early cable channels (and their unforgettable ads) that meant a great deal to a young up-and-coming Jeff Kay. Then I share a great hotline message from Ian in Scotland. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for listening! And here’s the fancy-ass player, or you can grab it wherever you get your podcasts.
I’m supposed to go to Cooperstown on Friday, with Steve. Hopefully, there won’t be any weather issues. Right now it looks good… We’re planning to visit the Baseball Hall of Fame again. We used to go yearly, but have gotten out of the habit. I’m pushing to get it started up again. If we go (sausage fingers crossed) I’ll be posting many a photo to Instagram. Follow me if you ain’t.
And I need to call it a day here. For a Question, I’d like to know whether or not you wear a watch. I don’t and never have. If you do, how many watches do you own? How does this whole watch-wearing culture work? Do you have to have many and switch them out? Or is it just one watch used daily? I don’t personally require a clock strapped to my person at all times, but I believe I’m in the minority. What do you have on this mysterious, murky subject? Tell us about it in the comments.
And I’ll see you guys again soon.
Have a great day!
Support us with a monthly $4 donation at Patreon, and get an extra podcast episode every week! We’re also at Venmo (@thewvsr) and PayPal (firstname.lastname@example.org). Thank you, guys!
I was woke up by some scratching on my skylights this past summer. I figured it was a giant mutated spider. I think it was a possum. At least I hope it was.
I carry a watch in my pocket. How is it that the battery in it has powered the watch for over ten years without being changed?
I’ve worn a watch since high school, so about 30 years. Same watch daily until it dies, then I replace it with something almost identical.
Alice in WV says
I stopped wearing a watch in 1993.
regarding nobody acknowledging what should’ve been a highly talked-about event: while straightening up my booth at an antique store, I was pushing along a baby cradle on casters and the front end jumped up about 4inches. I did a mini-freakout and made my way to the check out clerk and asked if she felt an earthquake. I seriously thought we had one – rare but not unheard of in our area. They thought I was nutty.
The only thing I’ve found regarding “Great Lakes New American IPA” is from a Podcast: https://fearofacraftbeerplanet.simplecast.fm/382bc810
“Our good friend Brad Forman from Great Lakes Brewing jumps on to show us their brand new American IPA”
So you didn’t dream it – even though it’s no where to be found on all the normal beer related websites!
Ian the Errolite says
First! (when did that stop being a thing?)
I’ve got 3 watches. 1 semi-fancy, and two Gshocks, a black one which I wear to work for the stopwatch, and a white one, for posing on holidays to warmer climes!
Off the back of the ‘clock chanel’, I was reminded of ‘the speaking clock’ which you could call and hear a BBC accent say ‘at the 3rd tone, the time will be 4, 46 and 30 seconds.’ Beep beep beep.
It’s long gone. I guess blind people used it. We did too, if there was confusion about which clock was ‘telling the truth’!
First stopped being a thing when Jeff migrated from a daily blog to a thrice-monthly one, and a bunch of Reporters moved on. This was a wild place then, with dozens of people competing for the first comment while several hundred commented back and forth (there was no “reply” function then) fighting and flirting with each other.
We used to have a time and temperature number in the states also.
Out in the wilds of the Great Pacific Northwest, we had only a time lady. She wasn’t from the BBC — she worked for what was then “The Phone Company”. And she had a hell of a work contract. She had to enunciate the exact time every 30 seconds, so she could take all the breaks she wanted as long as none of them exceeded 20 seconds. (“At the tone the time will be four-seventeen and thirty seconds . . . beep” took 10 seconds). She was known as the fastest pisser in the west. I can assure you that no 70 year old man will ever hold that title.
Alien helicopters delivering native befuddling prototype super-IPAs, more at 11.
Haven’t worn a watch for a long time. Normally don’t have a phone on me either. If I need to be somewhere at a specific time I’ll take the phone.
No watches, ever! I always know what time it is. The Rays area is pretty accurate. Next year the map will probably include Canadia tho.
No baseball fans, just watch fans or non fans. I think you, Jeff, and I are in the minority on the greatest sport on earth!
I wear a watch every work day and sometimes on the weekend. I have 3, but I really only wear the one. It is kinetic so it charges the battery as I move.
A Different Jeff says
There is no such thing as a perpetual motion device. You have no idea how much energy that timepiece is sucking from your soul!
That baseball fandom graphic is really bothering me. I’m from one of the PA counties that is supposedly in Blue Jays territory. Not a baseball fan but I’ve never heard anyone around here ever speak of the Blue Jays or wear any of their memorabilia. I think that map is full of it.
A Different Jeff says
One could probably find a similar map depicting KKK Kountry, but few who live there ever speak of it …
I received a nice shiny new Bulova watch for my eighth grade graduation – about 45 years ago. It’s still the only watch I’ve ever owned and I still break it out to wear to weddings, etc about once every 10 years. Otherwise, no watch, even before computers and cell phones.
I find it amusing that the only area identified as Mets territory is roughly the size of Citi Field. Yet every time we go down to Myrtle Beach I run into a dozen or so Mets fans each time.
I do own a watch, a $25 Timex with a velcro band. I almost never wear it.
Something nobody seems to notice: for the past few months the water company has been intermittently preparing to tear up my street. For instance, this morning they were out there with the giant diesel-powered circular saw and spent an hour or two cutting slits in the asphalt, then left. But there’s no mention of this work on their website, Nextdoor is silent and the neighbors know nothing. What are they doing?
And it snowed here too this afternoon (Tuesday, northern Virginia). Just flurries and just for a few minutes, but still.
I understand that there are now some Democrats in the House of Burgesses or whatever youall call your state legislative body. Could have been Thomas Jefferson throwing confetti from the right hand of God. Or maybe it just got chilly aloft.
It’s the House of Burgerkings now. Hold the pickle.
In one way, it’s a relief to know that Virginia isn’t run by people who fly pennant-shaped flags from their foremasts. Still, I’m getting too old to care about holding anybody’s pickle and too disinterested to hold my own. Time marches on, even for the fast food pickle and American governance, both of which could use a little more time in the barrel.
I heard scratching at 2am last night. Both dogs where in bed with me. Long story short, I have a bat sandwiched between the wall and the medicine cabinet. His little wing is still sticking out of the crack. I tried tugging on his wing to scare him out and was met with loud clicks and squeaks. We’ve had an early cold snap so I figure he’s hibernating. I’ll call the critter guy to come pry him out.
I love watches, I have many and want more! Please send watches!!
Snow is Jefferson confetti!! Thanks John!
I wear a watch for work, but it’s a necessary tool. I’ve also taken to wearing a FitBit on the opposite wrist because for a while there I was walking 5-8 miles a day at work and was just curious about getting an accurate account of my travel. Now I feel off balance if I just wear one without the other.
My work watch has also been a recreational watch. When I was still diving I took it to about 112 feet underwater. At work in the Hyperbaric Chamber I’ve taken it to the equivalent of 165 feet underwater (while it was on my wrist).
For dressier occasions I have a very nice watch. I purchased it with some money my mother gave me as a gift before she passed away.
I didn’t want to blow the money on a onetime spree or a vacation, I wanted something that would commemorate Mom. She liked watches on men and so I bought one that I can pass on to my kids.
I had her name and a two word saying engraved on the back.
Whenever I have to wear a suit that watch is on my wrist. I probably put it one 2-4 times a year.
If I’m not at work or a special occasion I don’t wear a watch.
How much of the Dodgers’ vast empire of the air is due to the intelligent, mellifluous radio voice of young Scully? Red Barber knew talent when he saw it and heard it.
A Different Jeff says
I wore wristwatches for nearly a half century. But when the battery on the last one died, I realized that I now also carry a 20-square-inch timepiece in my pocket, so I left the watch in the dresser drawer, where it remains, frozen in time at the moment of its death. Granted, the new digital timepiece also allows me to schedule my week, navigate the earth, take photos, and receive annoying messages and calls from friends and strangers in distant lands. But, mostly it’s a timepiece …
Even after all these years without a watch, I still sometimes glance at my wrist for the time. This is usually embarrassing, but is especially so when I am in fact attempting to weasel out of an annoying conversation with a co-worker or relative, when I suddenly tap my (naked) wrist and say, “Oooh, look at the time! I’m late for my meeting!”
A Different Jeff says
Possibly a ‘house beer,’ contract-brewed by a local maker and sold unlabeled.
When I lived in Oshkosh (b’gosh), my local haunt, the Lizard Lounge, offered $5 pitchers of a wonderful, flavorful, dark amber mystery brew which went by the name of Lizard Lager. We finally pried the truth from one of the low-ranking bartenders: it was a brew originally formulated by Wisconsin’s Point Beer for their customer, Hillshire Farm, as a malty, hoppy additive for their beer brats.
It was never intended for straight-up drinkin’, but we put away gallons of the stuff …
I’ll be it’s this one
No action out here, so I reread the post. Jeff mentioned Tully’s, a local watering hole. I thought, my God, Jeff is going to a non-chain operation to have a beer? What if the signage isn’t entirely standard? But no, there are a dozen Tully’s throughout New York and PA; they have photos of all 12 on their web site, and they all look exactly the same. The fucking clock is striking 13.
I won’t even go to a restaurant with a web site, and if I still drank, I certainly wouldn’t go to a bar with a website. I don’t require sawdust on the floor, but over the last 50 years, my best bar experiences have been in establishments up and down the east coast and throughout the south and southwest that are a little funky, and occasionally have a country band that is both packing and holding, or a jazz combo that look too much like carjackers not to be carjackers, but play their asses off. None of the memorable music I’ve heard in joints has been played in a sad link in a sad chain. The next bar I go to will have needles on the floors of the bathrooms, switchblade tracks on the red booth upholstery, and the ghost of Mose Allison dancing across the keyboard. It’ll be a while.
. . . and another song from a heartworn highway leading to a bar that needs sweeping. . .