Sigh. Again.
For what seems like the fifth time in the last year I am again sitting inside my apartment watching the hills above Santa Barbara burn. This is getting old. At least this time our power is still on so I’m able to at least watch the Dodgers squander this first inning (one freaking run with the bases loaded and nobody out!??! Against the Nationals?!?!?)* instead of listening to it on the radio. Not that there’s anything wrong with the radio of course–day games and being perfect for the radio are two of the best things baseball has going for it.
*And now the second inning too. The baseball gods will not take kindly to this behavior.
So here I sit, listening to the wind howl, sirens wail and choppers chop. If there’s a bit of good news today it looks like my work might be cancelled tomorrow–anybody know if there’s any swell in the water? The girlfriends’ mom is coming into town tomorrow which is obviously dicey for a number of different reasons, first and foremost being that our whale watching expedition (or “whale hunting” as she has taken to calling it) is in serious jeopardy.
Deja Vu All Over Again
Anyway, with nothing better to do I’ll keep an eye on good ol’ KEYT, two eyes on Clay Kershaw, and another eye on the Lakers. Yeah, I got four eyes. It’s the way I roll. While we’re talking about absolutely nothing at all, has anyone gotten to the bottom of Russ Mart’s “J Martin” jersey? I know his name is John Coltrane or whatever but when you’re hitting around .200 and out of slump busters shouldn’t you think about going back to the old jersey? Just sayin’.*
* Vinny just gave props and prayers to Santa Barbara. Here’s lookin’ at you, Vin.
I just sent an e-mail seeing if you’re good. So you guys good down there. Haven’t paid as close to this one as the last one until KEYT started covering it full-time. Then I got scared.