Get up baby, get up!

So I'm sitting here, listening to the Cards on KMOX, and I'm getting all choked up. No, I'm not crying over Busch Stadium. I just had some tacky bread dough stuck in the back of my throat and I can't seem to swallow it.

There, that's better.

So yeah. I'm not all that worked up about Busch going the way of Crystal Pepsi. I mean, I'll miss it, but I just don't have any strong bonds with a place. Maybe because I wasn't there more than 5-6 times a year. And, after all, it's just a building. Everyone and their brother around here is calling up their 'favorite memories of Busch,' and I can't seem to come up with any. I was there for the first Interleague series way back when against Cleveland. I was there for Ozzie Smith collector's ball day. I was there for Darryl Kile's memorial service, which was a surreal experience. I was there last year for Game 1 of the NLCS against Houston. Fine moments, all, but nothing that brings a tear to my eye.

And, as I sit here listening to the game, I think what I associate more with memories are the way Mike Shannon calls a game. Yeah, he can go waaaaaaay out there sometimes, but when he's on, he's on, and I don't think you can beat it these days. To wit: Reggie Sanders just hit a double with two on. One run is in, and Pujols is trying to do the same. "Here comes Albert. Here comes the throw. He is...saaaaaaafe!!!" I love the way he calls those plays. And if you've heard enough on KMOX, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. And can probably think of a few more.

So Janice and I are heading to the game tomorrow for A-B employee day. We get to hit the field before the game and do the photo-op/autograph thing. It'll more than likely be my last trip to Busch. Until next season, when I go to...Busch. See? It's not really going anywhere. My cameras are coming with me, so there will be pictures. I'll try and post some of them later on, assuming they don't suck.

I don't get to just "go shoot" much anymore. It's either work for the Journal or library stuff. Weddings too, and a reunion. To my knowledge, the last time I just shot for the sake of shooting was back in April when I was at Diane's. That's way too long. So I need to do that soon. I don't know if baseball games count. They do, in a way, but it's not quite the same as just aimlessly wandering with a camera. I really need to keep one with me at all times, because Lord only knows when an opportunity will present itself.

I loved the weather this week. I've had the windows down since Sunday, and it's been absolutely wonderful outside. It's an extremely pleasant 71 degrees in my house right now. In closing, I love fall.


Dave

Playing with Pink Noise

Bullet-point style post today, I think.


-What's the etymology of 'mnemonic'? My first guess is Latin, but I don't know of too many Latin words that have an 'mn' combo right up front. It's not Polish, since there aren't enough Zs involved. Hmm...

-Turns out it's Greek, actually. I could have searched before that last point, but I wanted an excuse to type 'etymology.'

-Right underneath 'mnemonic' on my search page, though, was this. Please use it in a sentence and then tell me how to pronounce it.

-Speaking of Latin: does anyone not actively teaching or learning latin or involved in science actually speak it?

-I really have a hankering to sit down and make my own crossword for submission to the NY Times. I fear this may send me head-long into the realm of uber-nerd, from which there is no escape. Oh well.

-There's a signed poster from Mary Engelbreit on my desk. I'm not entirely sure what to do with it, since I have no interest in her line of cutsey whatever. The character wearing glasses, but with no visible eyes behind them kinda turns me off. I dunno, maybe I can sell the thing on e-bay.

-Yesterday was close to being one of my favorite days weather-wise. That's the "stereotypical fall day:" cloudy, rainy, cool, but not too cool. Nice for sitting at the table and looking out the window. The only bad thing is that it's not far enough into fall yet and most of the trees still have their leaves. For the day to truly work, the leaves need to be yellowing and on the ground. But we're close.

-U2 is driving me nuts right now, playing really good (and varied) shows, and our show is still 3+ months away. Not fair!

-My growing fascination with hurricanes was only strengthened when I realized they spin counter-clockwise just like the water in the terlet! The opposite for both is true south of the equator.

-Yes, I know that probably seems really silly, but you'll just have to deal with it.

-I am completely out of ammo. That's never happened to me before.*


BLUE SOCK! BLUE SOCK!
Dave



*That sentence was hard to properly stress.

CSI-270

A few quick hits:

-Despite her best intentions, it's probably for the best if mom stays as far away from mysteries as possible for awhile.

-I need a crown on my tooth. I'm now accepting donations.

-One of the perks of my job is the occasion to do something totally ridiculous, yet have full approval from the powers that be. When I finish what I'm working on, I'll try to get it posted. It may very well be the dumbest thing I've ever done, but it sure has been fun to work on.

-I was a bit disappointed to look at the list of names used for tropical storms and what not, and not see any 'Q' names. Granted, the only one I could think of was Quint, but that is a name, is it not?

-If it weren't for the massive amount of headaches caused by hurricanes, they might just be one of the most fascinating things to watch.

-I'm currently a Milwaukee Brewers fan, since a series victory will put them ahead of the Cubs for third place.


whoa, that's better than chewing tin foil!
Dave

Tomorrow is a Long Time

With last week's birthday goings-on out of the way (note: five belly dancers are waaaay too much), I settled on the task of making the most of the money bestowed upon me by people who are probably too lazy to wrap anything. Slackers. Anyways, I headed over to Kohl's, home of the perpetual sale and picked up some new threads, including, but not limited to, new underwear. No, I don't expect anyone to care, but it's my post, so you have to take the good with the bad. I also got a new shirt, which I wore to work yesterday. No less than three people commented on it. Not "nice shirt, Dave" or "wow, Dave, that shirt makes you look 15% sexier than usual*." No, they just said "I see you're wearing a new shirt," or words to that effect. Apparently the old wardrobe is getting a bit stale. No one mentioned my new pants, though. Thankfully, no one mentioned the new undies. The new jacket was at home, so no comments were made.

I bought tickets for the Blues' home opener. Good times ahead. The Cardinals clinched a playoff spot against the Cubs. More good times ahead. Fall is (eventually) going to be here, and, well, you know.

Yesterday was Talk Like a Pirate Day, and I failed to say one pirate-y thing. I am sorry. As a cop-out, I offer this and hope it will make up for my laziness.

U2 kicked off leg 3 of their tour just for my birthday last week in Toronto. Night 4 was Saturday, and featured the return of "Discotheque" and the Pop Muzik intro from the Popmart tour, which, after hearing it again, cements it in my mind as one of the coolest intros for a concert I've seen. Looking back, that whole tour was probably one of the coolest tours ever, although it wasn't too big at the time on this side of the pond. Maybe bigger in Europe, but still not big enough to keep the band from ditching the experimental phase, Oh well. But I digress. At said show in Toronto, Mr. Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam joined the band on stage to sing some of "Old Man River." Bono then joined PJ on stage last night in Toronto to sing a bit on "Rockin' in the Free World." EV also added some lines from "Bad," "Yahweh," and "A Sort of Homecoming" during the show. I never thought I'd see those two bands join forces, even if they had toured together back on the Zoo TV tour. They just seemed too different: U2 is more of a "theatrical" type band with their shows, whereas PJ just goes on stage and rocks for a few hours. Getting them together is a very cool thing, and I'm curious to see if U2 takes anything from them (like shaking the set up, if just a bit). We shall see. The tour resumes tonight in the City of Big Shoulders. It makes me wonder why they had to wait until December to come here. It's not as if anyone's using Savvis at the moment.

And there you have it.


Ah-ha ha ha! You're deep-dish! Ah-ha ha! And you've got extra cheese! Ah-ha ha ha ha! Oh, pepperoni!
Dave


*Usual sexiness rating is somewhere bewteen 6 and 7, with 1 being Paul Reubens and 10 being Popmart-era "Mr." The Edge.

for what it's worth

Special birthday greetings to Mr. Neil Peart* of everyone's favorite Canadian power trio, Rush, who turns something-odd years old today. Keep on rockin'.

Retroactive apologies to mum who had to wake up earlier than she'd planned 24 years ago.

On the one hand, 24 years seems like a hefty chunk of time. I mean, a person can get a lot done in that span, even if the first 6 to 10 years are mostly learning the ropes. Of course, you can also get a lot done over the course of a single weekend if you try hard enough, but I digress. So yeah, looking back, 24 years seems like a fairly long time. Hours and days may seem to fly by, but I think I can look back and say I've been around. That said, looking ahead**, I plan on living to 100, as I may have mentioned before. In regards to that, 24 years is just a drop in the bucket. Shoot, I'm not even 1/4 of the way there. So, assuming I get what I want in this case, I've got a looooong way to go. Of course, you can't always get what you want. But, if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.

I do hope that when I'm as old as Mick, Keith, and those other guys I know better than to parade around in leather pants and tight shirts. I don't even do that now, although I'd like to think I have pretty good reasons. I'm just not sure I could handle the constant wave of ladies throwing themselves at my feet everyday. I'd need a separate ring of bodyguard-types to keep me safe. I bet I'd even have to keep the dudes away from me to. They'd be all around me, asking for my secrets,and I'd be all like "back off, dudes," and then I'd, and um, and then....

Weddings!

I like 'em. Congrats to Kara and Karl, who got themselves all hitched up Saturday. All for Neil, I'm sure. Very fun wedding. Anyone who can work They Might Be Giants, Megadeth, and Outkast on the CD of music from the wedding is okay in my book. And lots of good pictures. I might have outshot my last wedding, but I haven't done a count yet, so I'm not sure.


Okay, I think I've rambled enough. Time to work.


I've been around
Dave





*That's Peert, not Pert,

** Dave's Book of Lame Poems: in stores September 2008

three and five-sixteenths

Can someone explain to me why this country is still measuring in standard? I mean, yes, you can be awfully precise with the increments on a ruler, but come on; how often does the average person need to measure something down to 1/32 of an inch? Contrast that to standard, where everything is in nice increments of 10, with no fractions more annoying than 1/2 or 3/4 to mess with. See? Easy. Plus, we could get together with, oh, the rest of the world, in terms of measuring. As was pointed out to me, though, the government's multi-million dollar push back in the '70s to switch didn't go so well, so the odds of any such idea working now are slim to none. Oh well.

Maybe if I wasn't such a weenie about subtracting fractions this wouldn't be such a big deal.

Post #427

Calvin and Hobbes is back in newspapers. Yes, they're reruns of the original strips, but isn't that better than a lot of the nonsense and non-funny going on in the comics these days? So go enjoy it now while you can, assuming your paper is carrying it. Maybe it's just our paper, but I can't really see the Post as being that ahead of any other paper out there. Except maybe in photography. We do have some nice photographers here. Like that Chris Lee guy. He takes some okay pictures here and there.

Jerk.

And I mean that in the nicest way. I just want his job is all, so you can see where that little outburst came from. Or not.

I have just under one week until I hit 24. It's a shame the producers and high-ups over at Fox decided to go with that other show by the same name instead of doing a real-time show about me turning 24. Shoot, I might have even watched it. Then I could have made $many and bought myself a new stand-up mixer for the kitchen. And then have racing stripes painted on the side.

Just because I can, I decided to "map out" my life cycle, making noted of any high points I hit as I get older. And, also because I can, I'm going to share it with all of you.

Birth: seems important enough. Without that, there'd be no this.
2: beginning of "the terrible twos." I don't know if I was terrible or not, nor do I know why 'two' is plural. Is it so bad that it actually runs over multiple years, delaying the onset of three?
10: double digits. Woot.
13: onset of the teen years. Puberty sets in, and everyone is miserable until age 35 or so.
16: driving. Hot times.
18: voting, tobacco, porn, and, even better, suing. Hot, legal action! Actually, Good Friend Tom, on his 18th, went out and bought some smokes and a Playboy, simply because he could. Not to sure whatever happened to the items in question. We were originally going to sneak the PB into Anthony's book bag one day and see what his reaction would be, but I don't think we ever got around to it.
21: booze, legal adultness. I'm still not sure what all the hoop-la is about.
24: Janice informs me I can rent a car now. Or, soon, in my case. Groovy.
25: car insurance rates go down "appreciably," according to gramV. Very cool.
35: running for elected official. President, senator, dog catcher. Stuff like that.
40: over the hill. It's all down from here, baby!
55: AARP comes a callin'. Bring on the coupons and discounts.
65: retire? maybe?
100: I plan on getting here for a few nerdy reasons--a.) gotta make it to the tricentennial, b.) gotta see Haley's Comet, and c.) why not?

So there you go. All the good stuff in an average life span. Oh sure, there might be some stuff in between worth doing, but come on. Can anything top an AARP card?


Ed good, Rocko bad!
Dave

Babe the blue ox is biting my ankle!

Ha! I kid my readers. He's actually nipping at me bum.

So. Band scramble was Saturday night. We had a few final run-throughs of our set Fridat night and Saturday afternoon, just so we all knew what the hell we were supposed to do come set time. Friday night' practice was, um, a bit shaky and maybe a tad sloppy. My end especially, I think, although maybe I'm being hard on myself. Maybe everyone else thinks that about their performance on any given night. I'll have to ask musician types if they always feel like they're messing up. But I digress. Cut to Saturday afternoon, for our final rehearsal. Whatever got into us Friday night was gone, and we had what was probably our best practice as a band (why didn't we tape it!?). All fears are gone. Once we got on stage and did our thing, I think we were almost as good as at practice. There were a few goofs, but nothing too serious. There were only five groups total, so it wasn't a terribly long affair. I thought our chance of placing high were really good. I knew we weren't going to take first, simply because the band I figured would win (and win they did) had, in the irony of all ironies, a dancer who actually danced, who then went on to play guitar on the next song, and then washboard for the final song, lovingly titles, "I Cheated on You With Your Mom." How is anyone going to compete with that? The group got a huge reception from the crowd, which, of course, is a big player in the judges' decision. Still, I figured we could take second.

No, we took fourth. Out of five. What gives? We had a good, tight set, good crowd reception, hell, we even threw ice cream in the crowd during our opener, "Ice Cream." Second place went to a band called Shit Sandwich, who, while not sucking, wasn't as good as us (and yes, I'm a bit biased). Third went to a band called Marrinol (sp?), and see the above statement.

Still, we played really well, so that's something to be proud of. I saw people grooving to our songs, including the dancer/washboardist of the winning band, and we had a number of people tell us we did well, which is nice. The drummer from S.S. told us we'd be great if we stayed togather, so I guess that counts for something. Plus, our one woman horn section got an honorary slot in first place, because she was quite quite good.

Also, our drummer was asked to contribute a song or two to a compilation CD of regular open mic'ers at Frederick's, so he asked the band to help him record the material in a couple weeks. So the Unnecessary Apostrophes live on for a bit longer.

While we were setting up our gear, our singer was introducing all of us, and when he got to himself, he said "and my name's unnecessary, so I guess these are the apostrophes." Heh.

Despite the stagelights being really freaking hot, it was loads of fun. Performing on stage is a blast, and I got a real good group for a band. I think being with the last group which, well, wasn't so hot in spots, made this band all the better. Pictures would be forthcoming, but we only got two taken before my camera battery died. I'll see about scoring some others, though.

Not much else happened this weekend. Four day weekend coming up. Huzzah!

What? Can't a guy look ahead to the end of the week?


Straight ice cream? That's so traditional!
Dave

Hit me! Groove!

I remember, back in the day, when the Urge released Receiving the Gift of Flavor, and it got pretty good airplay around here, especially on the Point. Also back in that particular day was dad's attempt at staying hip, cool, or whatever. All i can really remember is the listening to of whatever Steve and I wanted and maybe asking us every so often if we thought whatever he was doing was cool. It's been awhile, so the memory is a bit hazy. Anywho, one of the singles was "All Washed Up." Said song has the refrain "hey you're all washed up/would you please shut up/take a walk that way" followed by a mighty "HUUUUUHHH!" Your spelling may vary on that, of course. Dad decided that the guy was probably getting kicked in the crotch everytime he yelled, and continued to refer to the song in some manner as the "crotch-kicking song" everytime we heard it. He'd probably still call it that if I played it for him today.

I now have my new* computer at work, and it's very nice. Finally have Photoshop 7 after asking for it basically since I started. Of course, the two new-new computers the office got have Photoshop CS on them.** Anything else to be said about the computer is of interest only to me, so I'll save you from hearing my ramblings about Classic on these damn Macs. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

I start giving guitar lessons today. Not sure how that's going to work out, as most of what I know how to do is just sort of second-nature to me at this point. Trying to find a way to make it understandable to a beginner should prove interesting. Or agonizingly difficult for all parties involved. That would, of course, be followed by the smashing of guitars over each other's head. That, of course, is why I have three guitars.

I feel like I wanted to say more, but nothing springs to mind, so I guess I'm done.


Fear not, townsfolk! Famine is no doubt right 'round the corner! And gross bugs and rats sleep in our beds! Isn't that great?
Dave







*By new, of course, I mean third-hand, but new to me. Almost all my stuff at work is used: computer, desk, chair, etc. The camera and scanner are new, which is fine, but considering how often they go buy new uselss crap (like Nickelback CDs), couldn't I at least get a new chair after two years?


**See? Even when I get upgraded I'm still behind the times.

Now this is something worth looking into in this country. Just think how nice our lives would be. The guy may be a few peas short in some other areas, but still, I can cut him a little bit of slack.

-Band scramble is Saturday. The Unnecessary Apostrophes are poised to rock the stage like no other. At 11:00 p.m. God forbid we have a normal set time.

-Mark "The Truth is Out There" Mulder is now 14-1/1.88 during night games and 1-7 during the day. Isn't that just a little bit weird?

-As per Ed Roland's request: I saw Collective Soul. Thank you.

-PatientlyPatientlyPatientlyPatientlyPaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatiently waiting on a new computer at work sitting right across the room from me.


I got your instant move
Dave

The baseball post

Atteneded last night's Cardinals/D-backs game sort of, but not really, for free. In the end, it probably doesn't mater. The Good Guys won 5-0, with mark "Don't Call me Agent" Mulder throwing a complete-game shutout. Nothing amazing, but he got about 47 ground ball outs, so I'm not complaining. At one point, 5 of 6 outs were ground balls to third base. Honestly, I think Abe Nuñez deserves about 1/5 or so of that win.

Being at a game, as opposed to watching on TV offers a lot more to take in than normal. Such as:

-seeing exactly where the pticher stands on the mound. I usually just assume they're standing on the middle of the rubber, but Mulder was standind way on theright side, and the D-backs starter was over on the left, as were the relievers.

-watching the defense realign themselves depending on who was batting. The D-backs' third basemen was playing in on just about everyone who batted, it seemed. "That's Just So" taguchi came up with two out and no one on at ne point, and he was playing in as if the Gooch might be bunting or something. He moved back after a couple pitches, but it was still weird. Concede nothing, I guess.

-hot dogs. I don't care what anyone says, but a hot dog cooked on those roller things at the ballpark is better than any other way of cooking them. Almost $11 for two of 'em and a soda, but it's one of those little things that make a trip down there better.

-new ballpark is looking mighty fine. I really hope they have a pitch count meter, along with the usual strike out board.

-I wonder if there are really intense fan keeping score in notebooks even when they're at home. I really like doing the scorecard thing when I'm at the game, but I never know what to do with the things when I get home.


No more Scott Rolen this season, apparently. Am I wrong for not being all that worried right now?


Get your head in the game, the Chort! The Cheat is wide open!
Dave

Dripping Yellow Madness

I wonder how long it took some of today's (and yesterday's) big bands to come up with a name for themselves. I know U2 went by 'Feedback,' 'the Hype,' and, of course, 'the Larry Mullen Band' before settling on U2, but how long did it take them to arrive at that decision? Were there hours of heated debates between larry, Bono, and Edge? Adam, of course, was too cool for any of that, He probably just sat around looking rather disinterested underneath his 'fro, maybe smoking a cigarette until it all blew over.

I only wonder this because my group for Son of Band Scramble came up with a name within an hour or so during our first practice Friday night. It all started with a discussion of our birthdays and what the traits were for each sign (or what is suppposed to be a trait). Virgos (me) are, apparently, more anal than most, to which I repliedI didn't think I was all that anal, except when it came to unnecessary apostrophes. I pointed out the case of "Autograph's Plus," the ill-fated store formerly of the Mills Mall, which closed a few months ago. I think it had everything to do with poor grammar. Anywho, the rest of the band decided that a.) my grammar obsession indeed made me anal, and b.) "Unnecessary Apostrophes" would be a good name for the band. So that's us. And we had the core of our three songs by the end of the first practice. By the end of practice two, the three were coming along quite nicely. It's a very good group, I must say. The lead singer(s) don't suck, and our "other" gal plays actual insturments--sax, bari sax, and flute. It's like having Jeff Coffin in the same room! And she plays them really well, so all the better. August 27th, friends, at Frederick's Music Lounge. You of the 21+ type have no reasons not to attend.*

Other quick hits:

-flat tire: I think 'flat' is too light a term. I backed over a raised sewer, and had a hole large enough to stick my hand through. Anyone with a better term for that is wlecome to suggest it.

-branch on the roof!


Eh....I lost interest. Now I'm too lazy to even wrap this up properly.


Cool tapes are cool, and we like it like that!
Dave





*In case you've missed the other plugs for the show. I never claimed to be subtle.

Ground control to Major Tom, come in Major Tom

So I woke up this morning, and for some reason I couldn't place, I felt like a little piece of me was missing. Something didn't feel quite right.

Then I looked down at my leg and remembered the huge chunks of skin missing from diving all around during soccer last night. Playing goalie will do that to you, you know. Hopefully, the quality of my game isn't directly proportional to the amount of my body I sacrifice to the turf. I'm not willing to suffer skin grafts just for a shut out. AS it is, I was on the ground a lot last night, and we lot 7-2, so I'm thinking it's just the opposite. Oh well, live and learn.

Band practice numero uno is tomorrow night. Our bassist's name is Ozze, so I think we're in good shape, eh? Also: we have another 'other' gal this time, but much to my delight, she plays an actual instrument or three. One of them happens to me sax, so if we take advantage of that, I see no reason why sweet victory can't be ours. Hopefully no one recognizes me as "The Guy from the band with the crappy lead singer."

What else to say...


Canoes are your friend, as is Janice's grandma's roast beüf. Yum.


NOIBN,
Dave

Big hits from small guys

Here's how to make a Cardinals fan extrmely happy:




You might also try this:




What more could you ask for?

Just Do It.

Really.

Go here, poke around a bit, and let me know what you come up with.

A few for me:

Dave Moore - Your personal entertainer.
Don't play with fire, play with Dave Moore.
Don't forget your Dave.
World's finest Dave.

Routine 27 - Yabba Dabba Duh!
Routine 27 is your safe place in an unsafe world!
Routine 27, pure lust.
I'd walk a mile for Routine 27.

Wouldn't we all?