On Thursday, Eben, a friend of mine from college, and I headed up to Baltimore for an Orioles game. Apparently the baseball gods have decided to punish me this year, and the Orioles lost 4-1 to the Toronto Blue Jays. I say they are punishing me because this is about the seventh or eighth baseball game I have attended this season, and I have yet to see the home team win. Granted all the others have been at Qualcomm Stadium and the Padres are currently 21.5 games behind the Giants and 28 games under .500, but I should still be able to see a win every now and then...
After the game, we ventured to the Babe Ruth Birthplace Shrine and Museum (if that's not the name, it should be) and saw some pretty amazing stuff. The curators have restored the two-story building to pristine condition and have furnished it with items resembling the actual furniture in place when young George Herman was born. Here they have some of his jerseys, the bat used for his historic "called shot," various implements used from his days in prep school (prison school would probably be a more accurate term, as the students there were either criminals or were on the way; Babe's parents had him declared "incorrigible" and sent him there, hoping to get his legendary temper under control), and plaques commemorating all 714 of his home runs. They also have the ball that sent Rickey Henderson to first base to break Ruth's all-time career walk record (I was in line to get a beer at that point, figuring that Rickey wouldn't do it to open the game--whoops).
Eben and I then toured the harbor district in Baltimore and headed for an outdoor stage that Cowboy Mouth was set to play. For dinner I had a fried soft-shell crab Po' Boy sandwich, which is basically two fried crabs sitting in a bun, and Eben had a de-seafooded jambalaya. See, Eben doesn't care too much for seafood, and he asked the waiter if he could have just chicken jambalaya. The waiter said it would be no problem and disappeared. Later, I saw another waiter with a tray in his hand. I saw two little crabs sticking out of a bun, and figured this had to be our food. Our waiter then ran over to the other waiter and whispered something to him, causing him to take the food back to the kitchen. Then our waiter swooped around to all his tables, finally ending up at ours to inform us that our food was "probably ready," but would we care for another beer. About five minutes later, our food arrived, carried by yet another waiter who told Eben that the food should be good now that they had "taken out all the seafood."
The rains started again, heavy this time, and Cowboy Mouth never took the stage. Eben and I were left to don some ponchos my mom had dug out of the closet and walk the 25-30 blocks through a monsoon to the car. All in good fun.
So that's about it.
Oh yes, in case you haven't heard, Colleen and I are expecting a baby. PJ (Paul Jr.) should arrive on or about December 29th. Colleen is finally emerging from the nausea state, and it should be smooth sailing for a few months.
I hope this email finds all of you well, and I apologize for the length of this thing. I have been so busy that I have neglected to write until now.
Take care,
Paul
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