Gagne?

Thoughts while wondering why the best bullpen in baseball needed Eric Gagne:

Jill and I bought a house in South Portland. This is less a thought than a fact. We move in August 25thish.

Saw the Simpsons movie last night. It was everything it could be... as funny as an early-nineties episode, satirically liberal without being preachy, and "filmed" like a blockbuster to mitigate the potential alienating feeling of watching television on a big screen.

The auditors are at UWGP, which means we've closed the fiscal year and my lateish nights are done for a while.

With allofmp3 shut down, I found another web site where I can buy music, and bought a couple hundred songs in the last few nights. Fleetwood Mac's "Rumours", which I've considered buying for years but never did, stands out among the throngs of newly released albums we picked up. Still struggling to find 15 songs worthy of nomination for this year's song list.

I still love chocolate chip cookies.

10,000 Days

Not sure how I forgot to mention this in my last post, but the wife took me to see every librarian's favorite band, Tool, last Friday at the Cumberland County Civic Center (heretofore CuCoCiCe). Not my kind of show, I suppose, but a phenomenal display nonetheless, in support of their most recent album, 10,000 Days. While rocking out to songs I didn't know, I had a near-epiphany and started crunching numbers in my head. As it turns out, last Tuesday was the 10,000th day of my life.

It made me think of the 100th day celebrations we used to have at school to celebrate something like 55% of the school year being over. 100 days back then was an eternity- long enough to change your vocabulary, your musical tastes, your sports allegiances, basically your whole identity. Now I've been through 100 periods of 100 days. And I'm as capricious as ever. Today I'm trying to buy a house. 100 days ago, I was filming a movie that may never be edited and I had never coached a baseball team or played beer league kickball. 100 days before that I was new to Portland, living alone and drinking all the free beer I could handle at United Way happy hours. 100 days before that, Jill was in China and I was trying to tolerate my old job, find a new one, and sell her albatross of a house. Another 100 days back, we were newlyweds, living it up in San Diego, drinking red ales on the beach at noon.

Where will I be 100 days from today? Time will tell, but I've got big plans. And lists to make.

July

I don't think anyone reads this anymore, but I need to keep myself posted for my Top 25 Moments feature at the end of the year. Since my last post, the run of aboveaverageness ended for Rick is 21, a 2-7 team disguised as a contender for much of the season. We went down, 5-1 in the quarterfinals, to a team we'd beaten in the regular season. I got to officiate the semis and finals (the matchup everyone wanted to see, thanks to two semifinal upsets) and was later invited to join the national head ref pool, for which I hope I can make time next year.

Jill and I kicked the house search into high gear and made an offer on a split-level in South Portland. After some negotiating, denial, innapropriate questioning, and merciful begging, we're still where we were last week.

John Maine didn't make the All-Star game. Not sure why.

We entertained a houseful of Jeffreys this weekend. My chest saw the sun for the first time in a year... with sexy results... at Scarboro beach, we enjoyed a Sea Dogs victory, and we finally caught dinner around 9:45 at Andy's (formerly Nappi's) after being thwarted by the rest of Portland's restaurants.

That's all I've got.

Happy Birthday America, Colleen

I only hope when I'm 231 and on my deathbed, seven years into a debilitating disease that attacks my nervous system and goes after my brain, people gather together to celebrate my miraculous birth and all my past glory by clapping and cheering at something as inane as fireworks. Happy birthday, USA. Sure do love that day off.

Happy birthday also to one of Portland's newest residents, Colleen, who moved this weekend into a cute downtown-ish apartment. Look out Maine, the O'Connors are creeping back.