I’m working today, then it’s vacation time again. I think we might’ve gone a little overboard with the travel this year. We’ll be dialing it back a bit from here. I mean… we didn’t go on any around-the-world cruises or anything extravagant like that. It’s just too frequent. And even a trip to Cincinnati, which sounds relatively inexpensive, will cost us a wheelbarrow full of cash. One wheelbarrow, as opposed to the two we spent in Las Vegas. But still… it’s a freaking wheelbarrow full of cash!
In any case, we’re planning to have a good time. That is certainly the goal. But before we get to the Cincinnati trip, the boys and I are going to Pittsburgh to see The Raconteurs. That’s tomorrow night. So, we’ll be driving over there — almost five hours — going to the show, and spending the night in a hotel. Then we’ll be driving five hours back on Wednesday. And the following morning… Toney and I are leaving for Cincy. Which is roughly a nine-hour drive, in roughly the same direction. It’s crazy.
Our hotel in Cincinnati is shockingly expensive. I’m talking Manhattan expensive. WTF?? But there’s a lot going on next weekend, and it’s a perfect opportunity for gouging. The Reds are going to be beating the St. Louis Cardinals, soundly and without mercy, of course. But there’s also a big tennis tournament going on, The Western and Southern Open, also known as the Cincinnati Masters. We’ll be attending on Friday. Toney loves tennis, and all the big names participate in this one. I’ve never been to something like that, so it’ll be an experience. Should be fun!
And on Saturday it’s all baseball. Oh yeah. Here are some of the highlights:
- The Reds Hall of Fame and Museum.
- A morning tour of the stadium where we’ll be allowed access to the press box, the dugouts, etc. My nipples are exploding with delight! They even let you walk the warning track. Good Lord, it’s going to be awesome!
- The game, of course.
- Ridiculous seats, from approximately here.
- Johnny Bench bobblehead night.
- Wristbands that allow for disgraceful all-you-can-eat gluttony.
Oh, it’s going to be a blast! I hope. The hotel is right there, so we can just walk back and forth. They have some kind of spectacular rooftop bar, so we’ll certainly log some time there, as well. I’m excited. But that wheelbarrow? Man, it’s filling up fast. Sheesh. The wheelbarrow is always a concern.
So, Thursday’s podcast… I thought I was going to have to skip it since we’ll be traveling. But (are you ready for this?) there will be a guest host! Like Joe Garagiola on the Tonight Show. Oh, this is going to be interesting. I think I’ll release it to the main network, so everybody can hear it. Stay tuned for more info.
In the meantime, I’ve released a new episode that features only me. It’s right here or just hit the big green PLAY button below.
In this one, I talk about how Nancy (who is in town as I type) invited me to a picnic at the state park on Saturday. And that turned into an episode-long diatribe about things that society wants us to believe are fun, but are not. I have a long list of such things. But I’m hoping you guys can add to it. As mentioned, I invested upwards of five minutes preparing my list, so I almost certainly missed a few things. Please help me close out the category. Use the comments.
And speaking of the podcast, I believe I’ve got a system in place now where I can conduct interviews over the phone and get a perfect mp3 recording of it dropped straight into a folder on my computer at the end. It’s pretty slick, and I tested it on Sunday. Works great. So, that’s exciting. Be prepared for an occasional conversation with crazy and interesting people. It’s a new era!
And I’m calling it a day, my friends.
I’ll see you again soon. Follow me on Instagram for photos from the road.
And have a great week!
Now playing in the bunker
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Where’s that show in Pittsburgh? I have not been there in years.
A place called Stage AE. I know nothing about Pittsburgh.
You might like the Strip District.
Years ago there use to be many record and book stores – but I am guessing most of those are gone now.
I live in the land of beaches and we always make plans for a whole day of lounging by the surf. The reality is I get super bored after about an hour then desperately hang around for another hour expecting spontaneous excitement to break out. I then drag all our stuff back to the car and grumble about the amount of sand I will be vacuuming out of the SUV.
Yes! I’m right there with you on that one. I prefer to look at the beach from a beer garden or a hotel balcony.
A thing that so many people seem to enjoy, that I want no part of, is camping.
I prefer a vacation like the one you’re describing to Cincinnati (I’m jealous). You stay in a hotel, and have quick access to a bathroom.
Shitting in the woods or in an outhouse type building, is a non starter in my book. Let alone putting up a frigging tent.
Let me add to the list:
1. Fireworks
2. Seeing people’s videos of fireworks on social media
Stage AE is great for outdoor shows. Heinz Field is right there. Lots of food and drink in the area.
Trying on/buying new clothes. As a woman this is supposed to clog my pleasure sensory gland. As a human, I’d rather use a rusty can opener slowly and methodically across my jugular.
madz, shopping is a young person’s sport, as are camping, going to the beach, and igniting fireworks. I was OK with shopping, never loved it, but when we are young clothes look pretty good on us, so it hits some pleasure receptors, although I always had a better time going shopping for women’s clothes with a woman, especially the dressing room scene. There’s some sport there if you’re dating the right person.
I also loved camping with my buddies when I was young, with Campbell’s Pork and Beans bubbling on the Coleman, hot dogs on sticks over the fire, and weed and the whiskey bottle going round and round with beer to wash it down — the Milky Way shimmering overhead and, in early August, meteors flying across the sky. And walking along the beach at sunset, especially the half-deserted flat-grade sandy beaches of the northern Washington coast. You can still find an occasional agate there, and it feels like Japan is just over the horizon. Seabirds flock and cry, and the sun turns bright red as it disappears – I’ve looked for the green flash since I was two on the same stretches of beach and never seen it, but I’ve seen other rare beauty at sunset, and colors too vivid for the color wheel.
I had a great time with fireworks at the ocean with my buddies until I retired with ten fingers. Plenty of Indian nations in the Great Pacific Northwest to sell what some smaller countries call armaments, and for a hundred bucks we could light up the Washington coast sky: flying long-fuse displays on kites in the middle of the night and trying to blow the kites out of the sky with mortars.
I don’t drink anymore, and don’t smoke weed or anything else, but I haven’t given up the pleasure of a walk along the shore, assisted now by a cane and an occasional shoulder. Pleasure is still available: we are surrounded by abundance. The best light show money can’t buy is full-spectrum sunlight filtered through the trigonometric leaves in a stand of deciduous trees.
Infotech delivers content to our ears and eyes across global networks and continues to delight us. Leonard Cohen is gone, but he left behind a dozen inspiring album artifacts, each with a few works of genius and beauty. Rather than walk or ride two hours to town once a week to hear a half-drunk fiddler, as my parents did, we can now, at any second of any 24-hour day, access and enjoy the closest thing to the whisper of God we can imagine.
So you want a list of activities society says is/are fun but are actually not? I think there’s a small chance you’re spending too much time looking down at social media and watching television. Beauty is ubiquitous and Moriarty tries to blind us to the immense magic that surrounds us if we’d just look up. We don’t need to let him get away with it.
John
Very nice, jtb! Now THIS is pure pleasure.
Yes, very much enjoyed reading this John – well done.
Well now this is just a beautiful piece of writing. Makes me want to spend an evening around a beach campfire sometime in the warmly remembered past.
. Sports, especially football, especially the Stupor Bowl
. TV watching in general
. Hip-hop
. Lobster and crab
. Social media
. Summer (the season; I like the woman just fine)
. Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton
. Bourbon, cigars
. Pull-out faucets
. Superhero movies
Good list, but you can’t blame a man for getting old. Also, I would just add that when I was a young man, before Woodstock, I dated a girl with a pull-out faucet. Ruined two pairs of chinos.
jtb
I would never blame anyone for getting old. As they say, it beats the alternative. And some things really are worth the sacrifice of a pair of pants.
Also, sweet potatoes.
“Bob Dylan and Eric Clapton”
Truer words were never spoken.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vFqwXsWk5kM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PkulcvRkd4I
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFp2prFwT8g
Bob Seger
Excellent point.
I must disagree for a single song: Main Street. Damn, it’s a fine song. Truly.
I’m with madz on the clothes buying thing. It’s never been fun for me. When I was young and thin and wanted to buy nice clothes, I couldn’t afford them, so shopping was torture. Now that I’m older and fatter and can afford to buy nice clothes, none of them look good on me, so shopping is torture.
Also, I do not enjoy going to the movie theater. Never have. It’s too loud, other people are too rude, and I can’t pause the screen to take a bathroom break.
Going to the beach sucks slightly more than camping. I’d rather pee in the woods and sleep without air conditioning than get sand where it doesn’t belong while sweating my ass off, but only just.
And who the hell ever decided that baby showers and bridal showers are supposed to be fun for women? Maybe I lack the specific gene that would make them enjoyable???
Yes…i am with Westersteve and JK. I live one minute from the beach. I would like the beach…if it wasn’t filled with sand, and the sun, and the saltwater, and the people, and the seagulls…I never go there.
A park, with a lot of shade, alone, a crick, and robins….fuckin robins…where did they go?…That is an enjoyable thing
AWG, there are over 300 million American robins flying around, but they usually avoid Florida because of the suspected election tampering. As usual, we can blame the Russians.
jtb
I did see a robin a few years back with a Hillary 2016 bumper sticker on its back.
And where do they, and other birds, go to die? Its not like they drop onto your windshield when it’s their time.
Finally, the disturbing truth is revealed: https://birdsarentreal.com/pages/the-history
Damn! I KNEW IT!
Cooking. When an entire channel devoted to cooking was created, I was incredulous.
And now, it seems like everyone is obsessed with local, artisanal cheese plates or whatever. I get some small enjoyment from preparing a meal that is appreciated by others, but the effort/enjoyment ratio is WAY too high for me to ever love cooking.
I had a ‘foodie’ (don’t get me started on THAT word) friend who literally spent hours hand-making pasta and sauce for me and some friends. We sat down and ate and it was…fine. He spent half the day working on this and it was marginally better than a box of spaghetti and a bottle of sauce.
It’s just not worth it for me.
I was stunned by Epstein’s suicide, though probably not as much as Epstein himself.
-Fredo
That’s an easy question: socializing. I just want to come home after work and not see anyone until I go back to work.
Don’t persecute me but it’s happening right now…
Children singing. I know… its supposed to be cute and uplifting and all that happy horseshit. But it’s like nails on a chalkboard to me. Especially the ones who feel the need to be loud and boisterous. Hits a very bad nerve for me.
I too feel this way.I’ve tried to keep this to myself but have spoken it before and thought of as evil. The only thing worse than Christmas carols is children singing them. I used to go to friends kids Christmas pageants secretly hoping that a scrap would break oul.
Went to the Bahamas. A small native came up to me and asked me if he could sing me a song for a dollar. I told him I would give him a dollar to fucking go away.
Picnics. I live in “flyover” country with humidity and bugs. And I don’t want to drag perfectly good food out into that.
This is wierd, I know. I love cooking but I don’t like eating I like to taste things but I don’t like the feeling of having a full stomach.
I know a woman who likes to bake and decorate cakes – and she’s quite good at it, as in ‘multiple county fair ribbons’ – but she doesn’t actually like cake.
Never understood how the county fair could award ribbons, and even “multiple ribbons”, for cake. Pie I understand: the sweet/sour combination of a great cherry pie, the snappy fruit and pungent cinnamon of an apple pie, the delicacy of a lemon meringue. But cake is cake: light and fluffy like angel food or dense and dark like a wedding cake (and marriage). But it’s still just fucking cake. Let them eat brioche.
This ain’t a rebuttal. I understand the juxtaposition of baking your ass off then refusing to eat the product. I just think that pie is a specialty and cake is a commodity. And God bless the child that got his own.
John
I dunno; I don’t make the news, I just Report it. I do know that making cakes is like playing the saxophone: really not all that difficult per se, but quite difficult to crank out a product of consistent high quality at a professional level. Think pastry chef -vs- Costco sheet cake.
You can help yourself, but don’t you take too much.
Don’t short-sheet yourself — you might make the news yet.
We were talking about people, mostly ladies in my experience, who make the occasional cake to be judged by the overfed locals against the cakes of other bakers. Now you’re getting all John Coltrane on me (although I’m told that Coltrane soloed through a mean Dutch chocolate that always knocked out the brass section). There are techniques and equipment that are available to professional bakers that, in general, aren’t available to home bakers, particularly with regard to cakes e.g., oven size and heat circulation as well as a bunch of shit I don’t know because I’m not a baker. However, I think your point is apt and I concede the possibility that consistently good cake-baking might be as challenging and difficult as consistently good pie-baking.
I’d like to posit one other theory that at first sounds unlikely, but I’ve dead seriously believed it for my entire adult life: That great pies mean great crust, and, while men and women can make equally good cakes, women make better pies than men because men statistically can’t make good crust. I don’t have XY vs XX genetic studies to back up my claim, although I’m always looking for volunteers. However, I have sixty years of adultish observational data of men vs woman prepping the crust dough, and men finish a half pie dough (top or bottom) in just under two minutes (1:57 with an eleven second first standard deviation) while women somehow manage to finish a half pie dough in 29 seconds (no standard deviation: all the good ones do it in 29 seconds and the bad ones might as well be men). As you will know as a man of the world, there is a DRAMATIC correlation between handling time and flakiness and between flakiness and taste.
One of the times I was married I was married to a woman who could bake, and, more particularly, she could make pies like the Chinese can make 5G routers (except her pies didn’t steal intellectual property, but I digress). I asked her to teach me to make a pie — not as good as hers (I’m not mad, at least I wasn’t then) — but something I could be proud of. She had a training timer her mother had given her for minimizing dough handling. You hit the plunger with your elbow (hands must be clean and pre-floured) and an alarm goes off in thirty seconds. After 30 seconds, the dough goes into a pile for later making those hokey little cinnamon rolls to feed to the under-12 crowd, and you start from scratch. We worked on pies all weekend (she sent me out to the back porch to smoke cigarettes and fume while she made the real pies) and I never came close to hitting the 30 second mark.
This episode doesn’t constitute my evidence that men can’t make pies very well. I’m not handy in the kitchen and my wife knew before we started that I was going to crash. I HAVE seen a number of men who can bake cakes and who advertise themselves as hot-shot dessert kings only to find that their cherry pie requires a fork, knife and blasting caps to slice.
Well, that took longer than I intended, but I damn well do believe that there’s either a genetic predisposition or an environmental factor that enables women to make and/or prevents men from making flakey pies, which are the only pies worth eating.
John
Yes the strong seem to get more while the weak ones fade, empty pockets don’t ever make the grade.