New ☆ Tweet from @therealelp

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— el-p (@therealelp) June 4, 2015

As a fat guy who loves baseball and would throw on a uniform, drop whatever it is I'm doing at any given moment, and play a double-header, this may be the one time I stand in solidarity with Mr. Christie. He may be a lousy Governor who would make a lousy President, but we don't need to body shame the guy. We should take every opportunity to policy shame him, to corruption shame him, but let the guy play some baseball without being mocked.

Fill the uniform, my brother. Viva El Guapo!

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Opening Day

The game was a wild ride that ended on a bad note but it was still a great day at Fenway. Allie and I rode up to Ruggles with the promise of a shuttle being there to take us to the park. It never materialised so we walked ... turned out it wasn't far anyways so things worked out perfect. For a minute there I was fearing one of my get-lost-in-the-immediate-vicinity-of-where-I-need-to-be episodes. We were among the first fans in the park. It was a little cool, but the sun came out right before game time and got the first standing O of the day. The opening ceremonies were fun. The Patriots through out the first pitch, there was an F-16 flyover, and Steven Tyler cheesed up the anthem. When Pedro got rocked early, I assured Allie there was nothing to worry about ... our bats would get those runs back, and they did, and then some, but Grady foolishly decided not to stick with the awesome talent and cat-like agility of El Guapo off the mound. Urbina gave it up in the ninth. It was my first home opener at Fenway and, despite the loss, it was everything I'd hoped for. A fight broke out in the bleachers a row behind us in the adjacent section. Saw one guy taken out in a stretcher and another tripped right next to me and cracked his dome on chair in front of me, leaving blood on the steps. A pretty girl fell on me (during the fight melee) causing me to fall on Allie. Gotta love the bleachers.

Clementine

Since Bone Daddy wrote that bit about singing to his daughter, we've gotten about two hits a day from Google by people looking up lyrics for that "My Darling Clementine" song. Is there really that much burning curiosity about the lyrics to "Clementine"? Are people bursting out in song at their local pubs, getting through the first verse, coming to a mumbling halt, then running home to look the lyrics up online? I figured we'd be getting tons of hits from people looking for pictures of Anna Kournikova, or Jennifer Lopez's rack, or El Guapo's midriff -- not that we've got any of that stuff -- but I'm sure they've been mentioned in passing at some point. Go figure.

Feeling Puzzled

Can anyone tell me why Brian Aldiss felt the need to re-write Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars trilogy? Aldiss is a fine writer, but this puzzles me.

Like Bone Daddy, I thought W's speech was unnervingly Democratic, from it's themes to it's references. Honestly, I hadn't listened to any of his previous campaign speeches so I didn't know what to expect, what I heard though certainly wasn't it. (Compassionate Conservatism, in the modern context you don't have to try very hard to equate that with some other popular oxymorons.) Some of his talk points sounded nice-n-friendly, but I guess I didn't believe he believed a single word he was saying. When he talked about that kid in prison all I could think of was Travolta in "Primary Colors" telling a stretcher to the folks at the adult literacy group. Even if I'm wrong and he did believe in what he was saying, wouldn't matter, it's all about the benjamins and he's bought and paid for, beholden to the deep pockets. I'm throwing in for the Nader / El Guapo ticket.

There Is Only One El Guapo

Darn it. I thought someone had put together a tribute to svelte Bosox hurler Rich Garces: The Official El Guapo Website. No such luck. Just some band.