In this week’s podcast episode, I talk about my recent trip to Cooperstown, NY.
Here’s the summary for ya: In this one, I share an update on the subject I ranted about in the previous episode, tell you about my latest fixation, and launch into a lengthy description of my Friday day-trip to Cooperstown, NY with my friend Steve. We took in the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum, had a simple lunch, and enjoyed a private tasting session at the Ommegang Brewery. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for listening!
Check it out wherever you get podcasts, or right here:
During the show, I promised to share some samples from the baseball card-making booths at the Hall of Fame. We commandeered both of them and things eventually turned ridiculous. I was standing in awkward positions and making faces. It was escalating and if we hadn’t been interrupted by a gaggle of asshole children I probably would’ve been stripped to the waist. Then security would’ve shown up… Perhaps I should thank those little pricks? No, I don’t have it in me.
Anyway, here are some of the wildly unflattering cards I created. They make me laugh, ’cause they’re so stupid. Dammit! I wish I’d had just 10 more minutes to “create.” Oh well.
That’s a sampling. I had others but I was wearing a fleece with my employer’s logo on it, like an idiot. I don’t want to post those, for obvious reasons. And here we are at Ommegang Brewing with our beer-tasting host, Rusty. Also a good time.
Check out the podcast episode for all of the details. if you’re so inclined. I’m getting ready to upload the Patreon episode, as well. Give me thirty minutes and it’ll be live. It’s titled Random Notes For Patrons!
Have you been on any cool day trips lately? Tell us about it, won’t you? Use the comments.
And I’m going to go upstairs now and make tacos for the whole family.
I’ll see you again soon!
Have a great day.
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Joe T says
“Jeff is fascinated by airplanes.” – back of the card factoid.
Alice in WV says
laughing so hard at this! perfect!
Maybe this observation has been made before, but if Jeff should grow a short beard, he would bear a fair resemblance to 2011 British Open champion golfer Darren Clark. Darren, I’m told, is also a man who enjoys a nice pint or two. A long-lost relative, perhaps?
Hilarious!! I have a few beauties from my niece’s photo booth from her wedding but nothing as glorious as these. Thanks for the chuckles, Jeff.
Steve looks the same as he did 40 years ago. What happened to the rest of us?
Wife and I normally head down to Myrtle Beach every April and October. Last October I had something of a medical issue so we had to cancel. To make up for it, we went on the ultimate day trip. Over the Christmas holidays we hopped a 7:30 flight in Atlantic City, got to Myrtle Beach for breakfast, lunch, drinks by the ocean (70 degrees!) with friends and a great dinner. Then we caught a 9:30 pm flight back home and were in bed by midnight. One of the best days I’ve had in quite a while!
Back in the day, one could hop on the Concorde for lunch in Paris. Your $100 hamburger turns into an $8000 steak frites.
One of the many modes of transport that I will never experience.
Since this space isn’t being overused, I’d just like to mention that I have a Dashiell Hammett joint holder up for Buy It Now on Ebay. It is a book containing six of Hammett’s Black Mask Continental Op stories called THE CREEPING SIAMESE and a joint/cigarette case with a cover matching the book cover.
This colorful cigarette case holds eight 1960s-style Bay Area Bombers: the kind that used to get you real stoned and now would likely cause you to attempt to board the Concorde for lunch in Paris with or without an actual aircraft. Or, you can just carry cigarettes in it (it actually holds 100s-style cigarettes) OR carry credit and business cards. Check out the item. My Ebay handle is canoecreek:
THE CREEPING SIAMESE DASHIELL HAMMETT DELL MAPBACK #538 & CUSTOM CIGARETTE CASE.
Check out my cast iron cat doorstop while you’re out there.
I’d rather be addressing the question of the day, but there were only two posts in November and I forgot the QODs for both.
I’m actually quite interested in acquiring a cast iron cat. I’d be willing to bet they last longer than the regular kind. The doorstop is nice too.
I think you’re right. I have nine of the purring kind and one of the cast iron kind so there’s probably some selection bias, but it seems to me that the cast iron kind corrode from the outside in and the purring kind do the opposite, which cats always do anyway. After three back surgeries, I sleep in a recliner and the cast iron cat has never jumped on my balls, but Manolito jumps almost nightly. Thankfully, he’s the smallest.
My sister’s doodles are trying to kill me and make it look like an accident, so I’ll stick with the cats, sore balls and all.
Also — Manolito, Zula, Pinkie, Spot, Bella, Ducks, Paikea, Jack, and Hoodoo say Happy Thanksgiving.
Happy Thanksgiving to all the cats and humans! I’m down to my last of the purring kind. She’s a 14-year-old orange tabby named Whisky. She generally steers clear of Nutley Street, but most nights she climbs into bed and sticks her ass in my face. I guess that makes me a butt-head. Or an asshat, whatever.
And I’m glad for your sake that the cast iron cat has not been ball-jumping; that would hurt.
A cat blog! Does Jeff know about this? I have three (Liki, Inanna, Monkey), plus four grandcats (Dink, Nessie, Jupiter, Sushi).
Clue, I hate to accuse you without evidence, but I bet you spoil the hell out of the grandcats.
Nah, I failed to inherit the grandmother gene; having grandcats instead of grandchildren is working out rather well.
I once loved a cat, his name was Artie.
“We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own live within a fragile circle . . .”