Take Me Out of the Ballgame

This weekend marks the first final weekend before the "real" baseball season starts in--what, 14 years?--that I haven't been nervous about the fantasy baseball auction. For 14 years I played in the Busch League, a loose confederation of guys (and one lady, back in the old days) who were mostly affiliated with Mountain Valley High School in one way or another. It was a great run for Buck-ner's Boots/The Black Sox/The Bridesmaids. We started out horribly, with the immortal Kevin Koslofski on the original roster, but Scott Erickson provided the highlight of my first season, delivering me a no-hitter. That was worth some points in those days.

There were ups and downs, and lots of almost-were's. About halfway through the team's existence, I almost quit over a fellow owner's accusations of being a cheat. Rather than quit, though, I renamed my team the Black Sox. It was not time to quit at that point. After a run of three or four years where my team came in second, I renamed the team the Bridesmaids. That name actually got my team mentioned in a national column on Rotoworld.com by Jonathan Gangi, where he was soliciting clever fantasy baseball team names. I was pretty proud of that.

In fairly recent years, it became a desperate battle to win the league. It was a second job, beginning in January (when the first fantasy baseball publications came out) every year, trying to devise a new plan that would take me to the promised land. There were years where I threw all caution to the wind, taking the best players in the draft for large sums early on. There were other years when I conserved my money for the middle rounds, trying to have "balance" in my lineup. Invariably, the best laid plans failed. And the desperate pursuit of a championship became less and less satisfying, even as I came closer to winning.

Through it all, the best part of fantasy baseball in the Busch League was auction day, which almost always turned into auction night: at the height of the league we had (I think) 12 teams, each filling 23 spots. Early rounds flew by, with people spending like drunken sailors on Alex Rodriguez, Pedro Martinez, Manny Ramirez, Juan Gonzalez, and Roger Clemens. It was the game of trying to hide a prized player--a first or second year Magglio Ordonez or Carlos Beltran, for instance--into the middle or late rounds, where you could get them for a decent price. But that was sometimes difficult, because the owners of the Busch League are a shrewd lot. They make a big show of not having prepared, or not knowing any of the players, but they knew. In fact, they'd gotten the same fantasy baseball publication I got, and probably the day it came out, just like me.

For every year but two, the auction has been held in Joe's basement. Once it was held in Bob's game room, but that didn't seem quite right. Another time it was held upstairs in Joe's house, but in recent years we returned to our roots and went back to the basement.

So this evening I had the pleasure of spending some time with the Digital Backpacker, who is giddy about tomorrow's auction. We got a chance to reminisce about past seasons, and he bounced some strategy off me. It dawned on me that I will be able to root for all of the Red Sox wholeheartedly this season. I'll never have to root against a Red Sox pitcher because my batter is up. As trivial as it seems, one can start to feel pretty conflicted. At the same time, rotisserie baseball allowed me to develop some favorite players I might not have grown to love otherwise. I can root for Jim Thome, Grady Sizemore, Alex Rios, Greg Zaun, Curtis Granderson and Joe Borowski whenever they aren't playing against the Red Sox. That is liberating.

While my friends are in Joe's basement tomorrow, Ben and I will be shooting some arrows at Central Maine Archery. Then we will go shopping in Auburn, to late lunch at Margarita's for Rach's birthday, and we will probably be home quite a bit before the fun ends at Joe's. I'll be waiting by the phone for Mike's account of how the day went.

"1,2,3,4 Tell Me That You Love Me More"

Ever notice that 2 out of every 5 t.v. commercials today features a song that sounds like Feist or is Feist? Has she ever put out an album? Actually, I once heard a song I liked by the wispy-voiced Canadian. It was called "Mushaboom", named after a small village in Nova Scotia. I first heard it after a family vacation to Nova Scotia, so I guess the positive associations were strong enough to override the fact that I hate her voice. Then I hear the new MacBook Air ad, with another breathy waif whinily peddling wares.

Ever notice that 1 out of those 5 commercials are horribly executed covers of Beatles songs? Why did anyone ever decide the world needed another version of "Hello, Goodbye"? And how is this supposed to make me want to buy crappy merchandise at Target? Somehow another scintillating version of "All You Need Is Love" is supposed to somehow make the store hipper than WalMart?

Another 1/5 of songs used in commercials are either horribly mismatched classic rock/punk songs (think Iggy and the Stooges' "Lust for Life", a celebration of heroin, being used to hawk trips on Holiday Cruise lines, or sad reworkings of familiar oldies, such as "Viva Viagra". I'd say Elvis would be rolling in his grave, but I'm sure he was probably using some sort of equivalent of Viagra and probably couldn't roll more than half way...if you catch my drift.

The other 1/5 of advertising music is where I get my jollies. Honestly, I have no idea how Cracker's "The World is Mine" is tied to Tiger Woods, David Beckham and shaving, but David Lowery howling "The world is mine! The world is MINE!" over Johnny Hickman's screaming guitar definitely glorifies the daily chore of pulling sharp metal over my stubbly face. I often find myself in the shower, screaming "The world is MINE!" as I watch the blood circle down the drain from my nicked up face and neck. It brightens my day.

Recently I saw a Kohl's ad that featured Ben Lee's "We're All in This Together". It's a sweet anthem about the human state of being: "I'm made of atoms; you're made of atoms, and we're all in this together..." I was ecstatic. I thought about immediately taking a trip to Kohl's to buy the same junk I won't buy at Target. When I make my trip to Auburn, I feel Kohl's should know that the only reason I am shopping there is their choice to use Ben Lee in their ad campaign. I'll march myself up to the customer service desk, grab a comment card, and look for the question that asks me why I chose to shop at Kohl's. Proudly, I will mark the "other" box (because I'm sure my reason won't be listed) and I will write on those little blank lines: "because every 12 seconds/someone remembers that we're all in this together."

Beyond that, the Kinks have been featured prominently in some recent ad campaigns. For my money you can never have enough Kinks.

Daily Affirmations

Whenever I feel like a total idiot, I like to look at this:

My six word memoir

A project started,
but never finished.

I'll Never Sell Out

Why is everyone in the blog world selling out? Follow the money.

In a recent post on Amity, etc., we little guys got a whiff of the big time, with a photo of her check from the nameless, faceless blog corporation. Our little clicky thumbs (and index fingers, for those of you who are tethered to a desk or a mouse) are paying for her lattes, people!

But it doesn't end there: you know who else is making money off this? The Digital Backpacker makes no bones about having sold out to "the man", collecting fractions of pennies per click.

And just recently, Chad Finn of "Touching All the Bases" fame has signed on with Boston.com, the digital branch of the Boston Globe.

Well one thing you can count on is Weather Boy keepin' it real. Content in this space will always be free of the interest groups, unbeholden to any Washington power brokers, or backroom lobbyists. This will always be a blog "of the people, by the people, and for the people". Unless my counter starts to move into the double digits. Then I might have to reconsider.

Edit: it is now 3:30 on St. Patrick's Day, the family is at dance class, and I am home readying the corned beef boiled dinner. Black 47 is cranked up in my house, and I am in a kind of Irish-Punk bliss. If you've ever enjoyed Flogging Molly, The Pogues, Dropkick Murphys--any of the Celtic fauxlk punk, check 'em out. I've added the song that was closest to a hit on American radio for them, "Funky Ceilidh", on my Last.fm widget. Enjoy your cabbage, everyone.

Some 'Splainin to Do

I think it is appropriate at this point to explain the title of my blog. It really came to me when I was being sucked back into this blogging thing by the RVB of DU. I got into Blogspot, and I wanted to set up a new account because I wanted to get away from all the baggage from my old Blog persona, the Renegaducator. I may have only posted 5 or 6 times at most as the Renegaducator, but they were intense, powerful posts, taking on the establishment on such issues as standardized testing, classroom discipline, and student body odor. It seemed prudent to make a clean break if I wanted to create a new persona.

So I thought it might be cool to be Weather Boy, the name Mike bestowed on me many years ago, when I pointed out the spot where a new rainbow was about to form. (Parlor tricks such as these have always been fun for me; when I was a camp counselor my campers were always astounded when I could tell the time within ten minutes by the position of the sun. ) Alas, the name "Weather Boy" was taken, so I couldn't work that into my title. I forget what other names I tried, but most of them were either uninspired or taken. It was then that I realized that no matter how cool or unique I think I am, there's always someone who has thought of things before I have. Throw that together with a love of Ben Folds and his skewed and gratuitously profane view of the world, and his song of the same title inspired my blog's name.

So now that the explanation is out of the way, I'll point your attention to the box to the right. I just recently discovered Last.fm, which allows music to be streamed into a blog. After some false starts, I was able to figure out how to embed the code and all that stuff, resulting in a playlist of some of my favorite music. If you click on specific tracks, they seem to only give 30 second samples, which might be a good thing. If you want to hear the entire songs, you'll need to let the application shuffle itself. I'll probably blog specifically about some of the artists, or at least some of those songs, at a later date.

Right now I want to draw your attention to Peter Mulvey (you can also go to his homepage petermulvey.com, but the MySpace page has his music streaming free.) I heard him on "In Tune By Ten" on MPBN a couple of summers ago, and was immediately impressed with his songwriting. Then he came to Maine with Chris Smither last summer or fall, and I was thinking about going. I never did go to that show, but I did look into his music further, where I found out he is an AMAZING guitarist. He came to the North Star Cafe in Portland last January, and I did make that show. The show was fantastic, and I got to talk with him for a few minutes after the show. He is a super nice guy. He will be playing the Stone Mountain Arts Center in Brownfield this October 24th. I encourage you to check out "The Dreams" on my playlist, go check out his other music, watch and listen to him on YouTube, and if you like him, make your reservations at SMAC for October. You can thank me then.

Beijing Olympics: Is an Oxygen Tank a Banned Substance?

What was the International Olympic Committee thinking when they chose Beijing for the 2008 Olympic Games?

News today that Ethiopian world record-holding marathoner Haile Gebrselassie will not be competing in the marathon at the 2008 Olympics. Gebrselassie has asthma, and is concerned that the air pollution in Beijing during August will be a threat to his health.

By most accounts, China has made giant strides to complete venues and have everything ready for competition quite early on. (This is in contrast to the Athens games, where the Olympic Stadium, if I recall correctly, was finished roughly three months after the games finished. ) In theory this leaves lots of time for China to clean up its air . Certainly IOC President Jacques Rogge seems optimistic, but I suppose it is in his best interest to put on a brave face. My guess is we won't see his brave face much in the telecasts from Beijing, due to the little white mask over it, filtering particulate airborne matter so he doesn't die.

I guess the case could be made that having the Olympics in Beijing will bring attention to the indomitable spirit of humanity in the face of environmental crisis: look what they were able to do in just six short months, so they could make a financial killing! And there will be much rejoicing. I certainly hope the emphasis during those heartwarming personal interest stories
this August is on the pathetic state of China's environment before the Olympics, and the inevitable slide back to that following the Olympics. Does anyone really believe the Chinese government is going to keep the coal fire plants shut down? The minute the ramp pulls away from Bob Costas' plane, Hu Jintao will running around to all the coal plants with a lighter, firing 'em up. As an American, criticizing China's energy policies is kind of hypocritical: people who live in greenhouses shouldn't throw stones, and all that, but forgive me if I'm skeptical of China's newly-found "Green" identity.

But an even bigger piece of China's credibility gap comes from their civil rights abuses. Again, a citizen of the U.S. (Happily Waterboarding Since 2002!) has little to say about how China treats its citizen and immigrants, both legal and illegal. But China has, for so long, shown wanton disrespect for human rights and free thought that rewarding this behavior with the Olympic Games just doesn't pass the straight face test.

I suppose it is possible that infusing a country with the spirit of brotherhood inherent in the Olympic Games will lead to wholesale changes in policies and attitudes. I want to believe that desperately, but history just doesn't bear that out. Berlin, 1936. Moscow, 1980.

"The goal of the Olympic Movement is to contribute to building a peaceful and better world by educating youth through sport practised without discrimination of any kind and in the Olympic spirit, which requires mutual understanding with a spirit of friendship, solidarity and fair play."
-Pierre de Coubertin, from the Olympic Charter

Color me skeptical that China has seen the light and is operating under these premises.

The Ubiquitous 25 Things About Me

I've seen this done in many ways. Chad Finn on his "Touching All the Bases" (for my money, the best general Boston-based sports fan blog I've seen...a great blog even if you're NOT a huge sports fan) has done 50 things about him. Others (the Digital Backpacker, and my wife) have wimped out and done 7 things about them. Because I strive to be at least half as good as Chad, I'll do 25.

So without any further ado, "25 Things About Me That Others Might Not Know".

1.) I was born a woman. Okay, no I wasn't, but sometimes I wish I had been, and here's why: women have the biological opportunity to give birth, and I feel left out. I'd be the most pathetic maternity patient you've ever seen, but it is quite possible that giving birth might make all my other maladies seem so small that I wouldn't complain about them any more...I probably wouldn't complain about them any less, either.
2.) I really don't like people much. Without humans there would be no war: think about THAT for a minute.
3.) Have you ever noticed I'm a little bit passive aggressive? Some might might take my procrastination and forgetfulness at face value, but really it's a cleverly crafted ploy to stonewall and derail the good intentions of others. See #2.
4.) The other teachers at my school see my choice to eat lunch alone in my classroom as one of three things: A) snobbery, B) misanthropy (See #2) or C) introversion. I will eliminate "A": I am not a snob. But I am an introvert, which never fails to amaze people after they've seen me interact with a bunch of seventh graders, or act in some public capacity. I come off as an outgoing individual who actually enjoys the company of others. In reality, this couldn't be farther from the truth. Which goes back to #2.
5.) My all time favorite Red Sox player is Dwight Evans. He embodied everything I admire about baseball: quiet determination, shutting up and doing one's job, sacrificing oneself for a greater purpose, intelligence, and a freakin' cannon of an arm. When I first started watching the Red Sox, Butch Hobson was my guy. He'd hit 25 home runs in about 400 at bats, make the most incredible diving stops you've ever seen, then nimbly jump to his feet and fire the ball with pinpoint accuracy...right into the 13th row. Then he'd get up, dust himself off, and rearrange the bone chips in his maraca of a right elbow, spit, and get ready to do it all over again. Apparently all his elbow damage led to a habit of snorting up the third base line during the post-game spread. He was a gamer, but was definitely Brittany Spears to Dwight Evans' Lena Horne.
6.) To keep with the Red sox theme: I didn't cry when he left, but I did go into a prolonged fugue state when Nomar was traded during the 2004 World Series Championship Season™. Sure, by the time he was done with the Red Sox the steroids (what, you didn't know?) had lost their effectiveness, and he was a shadow of his former self, but there was a time when he was heir to Dwight Evans in my eyes. At the time I did not see what the team was seeing, and my 36 year old mind couldn't comprehend the complexities of things grown ups have to do. I'm older now--almost 40--and a little more mature now. I get it now, and I forgive you, Red Sox front office. (A World Series Championship went a long way...)
7.) Sometimes I wonder how I got to be 40, holding down a big person's job, raising a family, happily married, when I'm probably no more mentally mature than I was when I was fifteen. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it's not as far off as you might think.
8.) Being a dad is the toughest job I've ever loved.
9.) I am a closet fan of Pink. Frankly, this is the least embarrassing of my guilty pleasures, so I'll let it be the only one I tell you about now. If you pay attention, I'm sure others will surface. (I'm sure the random ABBA reference will slip out every now and then...dang it, I gave you a freebie there!)
10.) My mind is more mathematical than it is sometimes given credit for. Right now I am on #10, which makes me 2/5 of the way done. That's 40% for all of you keeping score at home.
11.) My birth certificate identifies Hyannis, Massachusetts as my place of birth. That makes me an honorary Kennedy...and a flatlander to all y'all.
12.) My favorite teacher of all time was Mr. Bob Stevens of Temple, Maine. He was one of my high school social studies teachers at Mt. Blue High School and much of my conversational/discussion-based approach to the classroom is pilfered directly from him. Another great one was Mr. Dave Karkos at Wilton Academy/Central School. I had him for 8th grade science. Their unifying characteristic was the abandonment of traditional methods in favor of discussion and exploration. Mr. Stevens was probably the one teacher who made me consider teaching at the earliest time. Mr. Karkos is the teacher I think of now most often when I am trying to get kids interested in science. I think "WWMKD?"
13.) In high school I was the worst science student on the face of the planet. Probably not, I guess, but of the "college-bound" kids I hung out with, I was about as science-stupid as they come. It wasn't until I was already certified in social studies and married that I began to consider science as even worthy of my attention. It all began in my garden...
14.) Ray Bradbury is my literary hero. Sometimes a little precious, but occasionally great enough to evoke tears, I really enjoy his short stories most. "At the End of the Ninth Year", in Quicker than the Eye is one of the most brilliant pieces of literature I've ever read. Ditto for the novel Something Wicked This Way Comes.
15.) Once in Mr. Paperback in Bangor I looked up from what I was browsing and saw Stephen King standing right next to me. I was awed. I smiled with recognition, he smiled back, and we went back to what we were doing. Unless I've got it all wrong, that is the kind of encounter that makes Mr. King enjoy living in Maine. We see him as one of us, no different from anyone else. Of course that's not the real reason I didn't say anything to him...I think I was so nervous I was afraid to throw up on him. Seriously, have you read The Dark Tower series? Man, that is mind-blowing.
16.) I spent one year in grad school at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville. It was the best waste of $15,000 I've ever perpetrated, as I realize I was not made to: a) be a political scientist or b)live in the south.
17.) It gives me great pleasure to be presumed conservative because of my short hair and conservative appearance. This can be a pretty good tool when one practices subversion.
18.) My extended family nickname is "Gama" (short "a", like "llama") which is short for "Bagama". It was Mike's daughter who gave me that name, and it is a part of my identity--I am Dave, I am husband, I am father, I am brother, I am Mr., I am...Gama.
19.) My favorite novel is To Kill a Mockingbird. When I first read it as a senior in high school I found myself weeping uncontrollably and not understanding why. To this day, I find that to be the defining moment in my relationship with literature.
20.) If I could choose one lifetime achievement from this list: write the Great American Novel, be inducted in the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame, or make it to Cooperstown, I would choose the Great American Novel. As I mentioned back in #15, there are fewer people lined up to get a piece of writers...which also goes back to #2. (You thought I'd forgotten, didn't you?)
21.) 80% of the way there. The 80's were an abysmal time, what with Reagan, George H.W. Bush, and Poison. 80 was the number Lincoln was talking about when he said "four-score...". Air is 80% nitrogen, which always surprises me. 80/20 cotton/poly is a waste of space. 100% cotton or not at all.
22.) Nothing makes me happier than a summer day spent planning a project at the house, investing some sweat equity, and enjoying the fruits of our labors by day's end. Nothing.
23.) If I could go to one foreign country it would be Portugal. I have no idea why, except having read Michener's The Drifters and thinking it sounded pretty cool to go tramping about Europe and Africa, and especially Portugal. If I had to be dropped off in another country not in North America for the rest of my life, I think I'd hope for New Zealand. They speak English there, after a fashion. And I might run into some Hobbitses.
24.) When I am at school, I forget I have a life outside. When I am at home, I forget school. It can be pretty handy having that kind of filter, but I also believe it leads to much of my procrastination on menial administrative tasks from work. If I'm not there, the need to do it is not immediate.
25.) Coming up with 25 things about myself has been interesting for me, but, I'm sure, painful for you. I don't really think I'm that interesting.

My Blog 2.0

I've tried this before. To be precise, I've tried blogging three times before, with the intention of chronicling the things that happen every day in my teaching, as entertainment for whoever reads it, and as reflective practice for me. It never really materialized that way: it turns out I can watch t.v. shows that require any level of intellectual investment--from NOVA to American Gladiators--while playing Mahjong, but blogging actually requires some intellectual input of my own.

In recent days I've discovered the secret world that goes on around me, and to which I've been oblivious. My wife is blogging. My best friend is blogging. My colleagues and other friends are blogging. They're all tagging each other, too, in the 21st century's version of the philosopher's club--which is preferable to the other analogy I had in mind, which is "e-promiscuity". Don't get any viruses, folks! Anyway, I feel a little left out. Well, no more. I'm back, and this time it's not all about school. Future posts will address culture, local events, music, politics, family life, general airing of grievances (I plan to celebrate Festivus this year...which I'm sure will come as a surprise to my wife), a few photos, and, yes, even a little bit of reflection on the classroom.

So, feel free to drop by any time for a dose of unfounded opinion and unapologetic rambling. The virtual door is always open.