Orioles Game 1 Photos

Last night was my first Orioles games... I studied to learn how to spell "oriole" and my best learning aid was when I started talking about changing the name to areolas.   The O's lost, so let's focus on the stadium.

Buck came to B'more for the game.  We walked from the house and it took about 15 minutes.  So in the same amount of time I can get from our house in Gallup to the Pub, I can get to Camden Yards.

From what I gather we really only have two good players.  Adam Jones (left) and Nick Markakis (right).  Migeul Tejada has returned to the O's and has chosen his batting song to be queued to "I'm not as good as I once was".  Funny, but, after going 0-3 at bat last night, maybe, let's pick a new one.

The bullpens are located above an ivy wall and are tiered over the top of each other.  Police watch over everything here.

I have definitely seen more people at an Isotopes or Mustangs game.  I'm not sure if they even paid for the lights with the crowd last night.  On the positive end of things, this is pretty nice shot, considering it is from the Droid.

The best part of Camden Yards is that there is this old factory in front of the actual stadium that is now used as the Birds' front office, ticket office, stores, and restaurants.  Alan and Buck told me that before the stadium was there none of the buildings around it existed.  The one design flaw is that you have to cross over 3 sets of railroad tracks (the same ones that pass by our place) to get into the stadium.  Seems like an invitation for some Butchie to get hit.

The Road that Falls Under the Ocean

I have always found a great fondness for tunnels.  Between the lighting, tiled (East) rock (West) walls, and the general idea of driving through something as massive as a mountain, just always seems to make me feel like I am in a Rock video.  But today, blew my mind.  In an attempt to find a shopping location with 1.  A Target  2. A Sears and 3. A Bed Bath and Beyond (Gift cards unused after many years of having none of these in Gallup), I hit the jackpot with Whitemarsh, MD.  

My Google navigation took me on a pretty interesting route to get there.  I drove through pretty much the entire city East to West.  So, when I noticed a sign for I-95 right by the mall, I thought... stupid Google.  I live right off of I-95.  But a'las... I have my navigation set to avoid tolls and getting on I-95 took me through one of the craziest F'ing things I've ever seen.  I drove directly under the ocean.  

From the photo above, you can see that it looks like the freeway disappears.  Well, in fact, it takes a few mile jaunt under the Baltimore harbor, dropping you off about 2 miles from my house.  There were a few moments of slight claustrophobia, and, to the dismay of all the drivers directed to stay in their lane of origin, I held an exact and steady 55 mph.  All this for the bargain price of $2.  I need to figure out how to get an EZ-Pass.

Cleansed

It stormed for the first time today since we have been in Baltimore.  It rained when we first got here, but there is something different about a storm.  It seems to have a real cleansing effect.  In New Mexico, that meant that all the dust and dirt settled for about an hour, and you got that awesome smell of rain in the desert.  Here it is the same, and I remember this from Houston too.  It just seems to make everything seem clean for a while.  Of, course the results are oppressive humidity.
Top 5 things I saw today that I wish I had a picture of:
1. My neighbor, who up to know was a mystery, but turns out is pretty f'ing hot.
2. A guy riding a bike with a hockey helmet and half shield on (those things are hot in the winter, how one could wear it in the summer is beyond me.)
3.  A row house (mid-block) getting gutted from the inside with no other houses being disturbed.  Actually I might go grab a shot of this one this afternoon.
2.  Butchie and Cheryl
1.  The ridiculously over-priced clams (6) I had that came with a teaspoon of orzo and avocado mouse.

No Ball Playing!

One thing I have learned about Baltimoreans is that they are very opposed to the playing of Ball.  I find this ironic for a town pretty obsessed with their baseball, football, soccer, and lacrosse teams.  But these signs are everywhere in our neighborhood.  More confusing yet, they are all in the colors of the two major sports teams.  Maybe it is just a reminder to leave the ball-playing to the pros.

Whole Lotta Shakin'

Yesterday was really uneventful.  I thought the most exciting thing that was going to happen was finding out that Netflix has a one-day turn around in major cities.  Well, actually that was the most exciting thing, until I drove to Taneytown this morning to pick up a load of stuff from storage.  On 98 Rock they were talking about an earthquake in Ottawa that was felt in Baltimore.  Then it hit me, I was sitting on the floor in the living room and could feel the building shaking.  I assumed it was from a passing train, but, as it turns out, we had a small earthquake here yesterday.  Who would have thought, Baltimore?

Hair and Skin Care

I have never had curly hair, ever.  Well except for the one time in 5th grade when my mom decided I should get a perm that looked pretty much exactly like Kenny Powers.  It was pretty hideous.  My school photo from that year was not only an homage to this strange could-be-a-mullet-if-it-were-straightness, but to my peculiar childhood fashion sense, ripe with vests, and a pair of "The Joker" earrings that were a part of my excitement of the release of the first Batman movie.
Thanks to the humidity there are a couple of things that are brining me back to my non-desert life.
1.  My hair is never straight.  Even if I straighten it, in the morning, it is, at best, wavy.
2.  Lotion is really not necessary.
3.  I have yet to apply any lip balm
4.  I have mosquito bites.
5.  There is something lodged in my foot that is causing a big swell right about where my flip-flops hit.  I am hoping that this is a sliver or a piece of glass, but am coming to terms that it could very well be some type of jungle insect that has found a home in the wet Maryland land burrowing into my body only to lay eggs that will produce larvae that will soon reach my brain.
If you see no further posts, I have likely died from number five, or I have found my fifth grade picture and have decided to go into hiding until they are all destroyed.
I couldn't find the school pic, but this will give you an idea.  The perm has grown out a bit at this point, so just use the image above and below and morph them into one.  I also love this picture because I am so obviously disapproving of my father asking us to pose by a buffalo after many years of hearing my parents laugh at stupid people approaching animals in Yellowstone.

Game Changer

So Moody was here until like 9 last night and he has a very unique skill.  He will talk to/ask anyone for anything. After 48 hours of no A/C and no one showing up to fix it, he just started asking people on the street if they could fix it or knew someone that could.  Well he found two guys (Sean and Rick) and found Skinny Dave in Shaefer's the bar on the corner.  Between the three of them, we have temporary air, to be permanent this morning.
A few interesting moments were when: 1.  I found out that Dave had been pulled from a bar to climb a 32 foot ladder on to the roof while holding a teacher-tote full of mix-matched tools; 2.  When Sean stopped holding the ladder for Dave to answer his cell phone, causing the ladder to bounce around just as he reached the top; and
3.  Wait for it...
Sean and Rick specialize in Roof-top patios.  Moody was so grateful for their help, he enlisted them to build us one sometime this summer.  Let me tell you about the awesomeness of rooftop patios.  AWESOME!  Especially from our location.  One would be able to see from the Inner-Harbor, to the City, to the Stadiums.  And I could regain the ability to BBQ.
Yesterday was a great day.

Anniversary Dinner and Shopping at Cross Street Market

Last night we had our anniversary dinner in Little Italy.  I had some veal that was pretty out of this world.  Little Italy couldn't be more complete of stereotypes.  We parked next to a Bocci Ball court.  The owner of Ciao Bella (where we ate) pulled up in his BMW looking quite Joe Francis, and the streets were lined with guys who look like Meredith Burgess sitting on benches, wearing fedoras, and chatting.
This afternoon I did something I haven't been able to do in quite some time.  I went to Target.  It was spectacular.  Then I got home and went grocery shopping at the market.  We don't really have a supermarket near, but we have a market that is super.  You can get anything you need that is fresh, meat, seafood, produce, flowers, baked goods, sweets, cell phones.  Oh and there is pharmacy too.  Mixed in the vendor stands are restaurants that claim the world's best wings, oyster bars, Chinese, sushi, and of course, steamed crabs and shrimp.  You can also get a brew which makes shopping seem all the cooler.  I didn't really pay more than a regular grocery store and it is about 8 blocks from the house, so an easy walk.

The New Neighborhood

We officially moved-in to the new place today.  We are in the Federal Hill neighborhood of Baltimore.  Here are some things that are the West vs. East:

1.  We live within walking distance of to two major sports venues, M&T Bank Stadium (Home of the Ravens) and Camden Yards (Home of the Oriels).  Our block has each sidewalk section painted with a different Raven's jersey and a corner bar that looks like a South Baltimore original.  I'll report upon first visit.

2.  Outside now means at a park or on a stoop.  Our place doesn't have an outdoor space, so we now find ourselves either indoors or in a public outdoor space.  I actually kind of like it.  It's charming to have a stoop.  As a kid it was very Cosby to me to have a stoop and live in a Brownstone.  By the way, this isn't our stoop, this one is much nicer, but it is our neighbor's stoop.

3.  Restaurants (period)  We have probably 50 restaurants in our neighborhood.  They range from crab houses, to sushi, to Thai, Italian, delis, and apparently a "Southwest" Mexican place that has rellenos on the menu.  I will report back, but my assumption is it won't be anywhere near the same.

4.  I have a landlord.  It's been a long time since I have had to navigate a landlord.  Our landlord's name is Mahmoud (Moody) AlSafty and he is very amiable.  He is always helping us with things and begging us to tell him things that are wrong.  He finishes everything with "It is my pleasure".  I like him a lot.  He also doesn't allow me to lift anything over 5 pounds.  Not sure why.  With most people I would resist, but he is just so nice.


5.  People.  There are people everywhere, like flea market on the first Saturday of the month style.  Our neighborhood seems really friendly.  This morning Alan got a ticket while unloading from the truck.  One of the neighbors came out and yelled at the parking cop and told them to have a heart.  Oh yeah, and it is 95 degrees and 90% humidity today.

Wireless Hot Spots, Hot or Not?

So In my quest to get unwired in B'more, I first started thinking about getting an air card.  Then I realized that I am way to progressive for an air card, or 3G for that matter.  I am thinking about getting a mobile hotspot.  I am a little concerned about 5GB of data usage (considering it is 5 cents per MB for overage) but for $50 for the gadget, plus $60 a month for service of up to 5 devices (Lappy, Wii, Droid, TV, Desktop) it seems worth it to me.  Plus, I got screwed by Qwest when we couldn't take our DSL from them on the road.  With a MiFi, I'll just transport it with me.   I am thinking about keeping up this cutting-edge technology trend.  So the big questions are:  Get a MiFi connection device or a new Viao (built in MiFi)? And, can I exist on the 5 GB of data usage?

Fireflies

I'll be honest, most of this blog is going to be biased toward the West, but one thing we are significantly lacking is this:  Fireflies.  This is not a product of Photoshop.  This is what it looks like here at night.  I only knew fireflies, or lightening bugs, as a part of Where the Red Fern Grows.  I remember the first time I saw one.  It was the 4th of July about 7 years ago and I thought that they were the offshoot of someone's fireworks.  But, tonight, on the drive home, what I saw was a million comets shooting through the trees and tall grass that grows alongside the roads.  When we came to a stop I thought that it was the perfect opportunity to show the fireflies streaming underneath the stars.  To the eye, they played together, but to the lens the bugs outdid the stars.  Its one of those things that while common to people here, seems so foreign, as in alien foreign, to me.  I've seen spectacular things, but this is one of the most majestic acts of nature.

Dream, Dream, Dream When I Need You

Chili watch day 8:  I must have had 15 dreams about New Mexico last night.  They were all fine until the end where they started a downward spiral, one of which involved me seeing the removal of a penis.  Maybe it was because we threw up a Netflix on Demand the other day called Train that is basically Hostel, but...on a train.  Anyway, that removal was forced, the one in my dream was voluntary, and that really wasn't even any of the bad parts.  It all started out like I was going to have everything I needed and be happy and safe.  The need for safety may come from the Realtor that spoke for at least 10 minutes about safety in Baltimore because he sensed I was "concerned".  The neighborhood we were in was comprised mostly of young professionals, Josh Lauren's much accommodating parents, and hipsters, and by the artwork that posed 8 nude men, chest-up, as mounted hunter's trophies, I am assuming a good portion of the gay community.  So I wasn't really afraid of anything, seemed pretty safe, but maybe I should be more leery.  Or maybe I still had that starry country-girl look in my eyes.  In any case, a lot came rushing back to me at some point yesterday and it all spilled into my dreams, all night... when I wasn't lying awake.  Maybe I just need a miracle...

Roadside Attractions

One thing I have learned about East vs. West:  In the West we have roadside oddities, in the East, there are roadside histories.  On the way to Baltimore, we stopped somewhere I have long wanted to, The Cadillac Ranch.  Once we reached Ohio, the ideal stops were more of the Civil War Battle-types.  Perhaps one would say the West lacks a certain level of sophistication.  As a history major, I can appreciate that someone didn't have to half-bury some old cars to get people to stop in their town, but I also see that battle sites are a dime a dozen anywhere.  West = weird  East = meaningful.

West is...

One of the last days I spent in New Mexico, before trekking out East I had the opportunity to help out a hitchhiker.  This was one of two roadside ramblers with whom I have ever been vehicularly enclosed.   The first time, I was a first year Teach For America corps member in Gallup, NM and my roommate, Tim (who seemed to thrive on making bad decisions), decided to pull over for the Nali, an old Navajo man of about 65 or so who was busted flat on the side of road leading to Chinle.  The road seemed to move flatly along the desert forever until it gently sloped up and crested at the top of hill filled with old volcano cores.
The temperature must have been well into the 100's and in the dry heat of Northwest New Mexico, that can seem like the trails of Mercury.  Sensible it was then, that this old-timer would be parched on the ground, just waiting for a kind soul like Tim to stop and let him hop into the back of a conversion van that had only seen, God, and Jebus knows what else.  Myself, Tim, Gavin, and Mark all jumped out and helped the hapless fella into the back of the van.  It didn't take long for us to find out that he wasn't overheated, but over-drinked.  By the time we realize and tried to drop him off in Greecewood Springs, it was too late.  He had yuked and passed out and our only reserve was to drag him out by his ankles and leave him at the gas station like we were the thugs in a Quentin Tarantino flick.
So I wasn't too excited when, on my last drive from Crownpoint to Gallup, my colleague decided to pull over for a similar, gap-toothed (if you count a one-remaining for ever three missing pattern, gapped) old man.  He hopped in and began to say something, I couldn't tell what.  Thankfully my friend was a local and he was able to decipher what I could only imagine was the same code that helped the US win WWII.  Unlike the first hitchhiker, this one actually was quite dehydrated, and not from Steel Reserve.  I handed over my blue Gatorade and he drank nearly half in the few minutes it took to get from the top of the hill outside Smith Lake to Thoreau.  When we pulled over he said, what I think was thank you about 12 times.  Before he slipped away back into his own life he smiled with his 4 teeth and said, "Thanks for the Juuuuuuuuuuuice."  Barry slipped out a Hágoónee' as he wondered toward either the Family Dollar or the remnants of the Saturday Flea Market.  I found that day that in love for others comes charity and kindness, and usually something to smile, if not laugh about on both sides.
Hitchhiking acceptability and safety = West  ≠ East

Coming Soon

Coming soon are posts of life East "zia" West.