Thursday, April 19, 2007

Dewey-Eyed Moment I

A Dewey-eyed moment I:

In Fremont, land of the car-and-driver,
I saw a man and a dog standing on a corner in the distance.
I wondered why they were there, not moving.

As I came closer, I saw that the man was blind, and the dog was a guide dog. I've seen these setups in the city, so I wasn't surprised, but they stood still as I passed on the other side of the street.

I was down the street and past them, when I saw that the man pointed which way to go, in a general direction for the dog. The dog's job is to keep the man safe, and walking in a safe place, which was hard, because they were trying to cross a T-intersection with cutouts for people making right turns.

The dog was confused because the man was pointing diagonally across the intersection. I wanted to go back and help, but I was pretty far already. (okay, those of you who want to call me a heel, go ahead now). I watched by looking back as I walked (I was late to work already, and was supposed to be rushing) and saw the dog and man stumble over the cutout islands in the intersection to get to the safety of the curb. There were so many cars that realized what I did, and stopped, and didn't honk, and waited on the otherwise fairly wide-open speed-friendly spot.

I was relieved when the man and dog finally made it, but felt really bad that I didn't do anything about it. I half-figured that the dog did his job, and the others around did theirs too, and maybe I shouldn't feel so bad for letting the blind guy live his life, but also that there are alot of places where we take sight and our senses for granted, when we shouldn't.

JN


(Thanks for picking up the phone at 1050 everytime its the blind guy with the 209 number calling for the scores).

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

the Giants weren't perfect in the beginning

The postscript from the first posting:

As I sit here at the 107.7 fm the Bone studios, listening to:
"Tell Me Baby" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers
"Trampled Underfoot" by Led Zepplin
"Its a Long Way to the Top" by AC/DC (remember School of Rock's version?!)

Hard (and somewhat softer, beat-oriented) Rock, has always powered me through things, like cleaning my room (not done yet, if you've ever witnessed it), I will tell you:


In the year 2000, I went to the SECOND SF Giants game at Pac Bell Park. The G's had lost most of the exhibition games that they played in their then-new home. (The Yankees played them in the first ever-EVER game, and Jorge Posada un-virgin-ed the water with the first-ever splash-hit into the "cove.")

They don't count exhibitions as "official" games, and the Giants lost their home opener. I remember the paper with a big color picture of Bill Mueller sliding home for the first ever Giants run in their new home. (I think when I buy a house, I'm carrying whoever over the threshold, then I'm putting her down, and running and sliding "home" across the rug- someone better take a pic of that one!)

Then I went to Pac Bell for a little known 500 day-of-game tix sale for the 2nd official game. I got them, after waiting from 2 or 3 pm (for a 7pm start). My mom and I were so excited, even though we were aware that we were going to sit on an ass-hurting metal bench that night (actually, we didn't know what we were getting. Glad I didn't pay fifteen bucks to stand around and mingle- what bullshit! $15 dollar "standing-room" tickets are).

Then the rain came. It was surreal, because it was such a beautiful park, and a great Giant/Dodger game, and then, it started to trickle down. It got heavier and heavier (sounds like women every month- never mind). We couldn't believe it wasn't going to stop for such a monumental occasion (ok, 1st game was big, and it was sunny- this was the 2nd game).

It was one of those San Francisco high-pressure-induced sunny warm-streaks before a pacific storm reaches. And it did. The game got rained out, and we learned about the hiding places from the 'rain in the grand new park. Big concrete spaces with pipes above that make you think you're not supposed to be there.

We eventually gave up on the game starting back up (it was called at that point, being past the 5th inning, and the Dodgers had taken the 2nd game of the season as well as the 1st. (It looks like they finished up the game the next day where they left off -

(http://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/SFN/SFN200004120.shtml)

-but we were not there, not having a ticket to the next game (another mind-numbing technicality-like saying "the movie reel in theater 2 stopped short of the ending of the film, so the people in theater 3 get to see the end of that one, and their own upcoming film for the same price).

As I wrote a post earlier, the G's ended up losing their first 6 home games at their new home, a fact that the SF Giants PR people probably are instructed to never ever post anywhere ("We lost our first 6 games here, but go ahead and overpay for tickets today! Do you speak SF Giant?!")

That was in my second tour of duty as an SF Giants fan, having been raised on them since 1989, and then taking a sabbatical to become an LA Dodger(?!) fan for a while. How could I help it, the Dodgers had NOMO, Piazza, Karros, and Hollandsworth (4 rookies in a row) between 1995-8, and the Giants, in a preview to the ineptitude of their farm system, raised Jaime Brewington, Shawn Estes, Bill Mueller, and Marvin Benard (whom I adored) in that same time period. Looking back, they were not BAD, but they woreout their welcomes, or became great elsewhere (let go of Mueller for RUSS Ironglove DAVIS?!

I felt the Dodgers had a "winning image," something that my mother (the BIGGEST Giants fan I know, with somewhat of a bias) never understood, and something that I can now explain as a fit of adolescent image-driven fad-jumping. Of course, that is very hard to explain-off, seeing that I have become an A's fan (smart management), a Detroit Tiger fan (after losing 119 in 2003, 1 loss from the all time record), and this year, a Cubs fan in-training.

So as I watch the Giants and Cards battle on TV in the warmth that is a Rock Radio station, with the game literally down the street at the park, I tell you my confessions, and with this spirit of honesty, tell you that when you read my writings, I give you my best every time out. Put me in, coach.

JN


so off we go!

I am a perfectionist (no matter what you think of me in person). This combined with laziness results in my not posting anything, resumes or blogs, in a great while.

So I realized that its okay to not be perfect in the beginning.
In 2000, the SF Giants (BONDS JUST HIT ONE - #738!)
okay, the SFG's opened their new ballpark.
They lost their first six home games in their new stadium.
I was thinking that maybe they should go back to ol' Candlestick to get some wins- they had probably trangressed in the eyes of the baseball gods (Babe Ruth and the boys).
But then they won their first home game at the end of the month, and then went on to record a great record at home (55-26, .679 pct!), took the NL West, and made the playoffs.

All this to say, that perfection in the beginning is nothing compared to how you finish.
In the spirit of the Giants' humble beginnings in their new home, I humbly submit my first posting here, and online in general (the opening greeting was an exhibition game), and I hope you enjoy my scribe-manship from here on.

JN
4/18/2007
from The BONE 107.7 studios