A day of remembrance

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Schools across the country today, including my own, will take pause to remember lives lost and sacrifices made on and after the events of September 11, 2001. It may mean little to the participants, born decades after the event, though we’ll do our best.

I really can’t blame my son, for example, in not appreciating the recency of the year 2001. I have to stop to realize this was 13 years before he was born.

Thirteen years before I was born one had, among other things, Woodstock, the Amazin’ Mets, and the moon landing, and I really don’t consider having any connection whatsoever to that period of history.

But it’s a lot cooler set, no?

Traveling through real America

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Today on Math and Musings Franklin and I talk about our travels through the southern part of Virginia… what I like to call “real America.” Among other things we’re going to greasy spoon diners and minor league baseball games.

Ain’t that America?

It happened so long ago and we recorded it so long ago I don’t even really remember what happened, so I’m looking forward to the surprise too.

Report from the farm

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Over the weekend I had the pleasure of visiting City Island in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, home to FNB Field and the Harrisburg Senators. The Sens are the AA affiliate of my hometown MLB team (that would be the Washington Nationals), an appropriate junior partner if I ever heard one in both city and nickname.

I’d been to FNB Field once before, back when it was Metro Bank Ballpark in 2012. Prior to that it was Commerce Bank Park and before that Riverside Stadium, hosting the Sens since 1987 (and some form of baseball for a hundred years prior). That’s pretty long standing as minor league parks go, as is the Senators-Nationals connection. That one’s been in place since Day One of the big league club in 2005.

If you’re wondering, yes, the ballpark really is on an island, right there in the middle of the Susquehanna River in Pennsylvania’s capital city. They say the river’s a mile wide and a foot deep, though I didn’t check either stat. It is wide, though seemed pretty deep as well as my son and I walked over the Walnut Street Bridge that connects the island to downtown. There we found the famous Palumbo’s Italian Eatery, an authentic old-school pizzeria rivaled only by The Italian Store and perhaps Naples itself.

My son and I got to the ballpark early, of course, as one does, and got to see a lot of pregame. There ended up being a 75-minute “rain” delay, though I’m pretty sure there was no actual rain falling at any point. A cynical part of me thought it may have been a plot to sell more beer, though if that were the case I guess I was okay with it. They kept us entertained with some Jumbotron shenanigans, and we had our fill of ice cream in upside-down plastic batting helmets. Classic. They also had a cartoonishly large soft pretzel for sale but we would have needed about a dozen other people to help us with that one. Or a few more hours of “rain.”

FNB Field is S-tier as minor league parks go, and I’ve been to quite a few. At this point in my life I tend to go only to places I know will be amazing, and I’ll never tire of being right.
Note to future self: don’t wait a dozen years until next time.

The Italian Store needs no further adjectives

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If you ever find yourself in Arlington, Virginia, and you head anywhere other than The Italian Store on Washington Boulevard (they have another location on Lee Highway as well), you are wasting your time. Situated inconspicuously among several other restaurants and drug stores on a non-descript main street, the simply titled Italian Store requires no further explanation.

I’ll offer an analogy though.

Whatever the Italian word for Nirvana is… this is it.

Blessed no doubt by little old ladies and God Himself, The Italian Store is not only a “store” but a restaurant as well, though calling it either one of those things is a bit like saying Amazon is a “company” and Google is a “website.” It’s intense. And somehow it’s all packed into a little old-school Italian deli.

Funny thing is, I barely scratched the surface this weekend. They’ve got hundreds of bottles of wine I didn’t try and dozens of pastries and candies and pastas and whatever the Italian word for tchotchke is. I went for the pizza, and damn their pizza is good. I’ve had plenty of good pizza in my day, but ain’t nothin’ like The Italian Store. They’ve got various coffees too, and an al fresco dining area I imagined occupied by Tony Soprano and company, sipping espressos while waiting for their gabagool. Next time…

I lived in Northern Virginia for more than a dozen years and never found my way to this holy land until weekend… foolish me.

Needless to say, though, I’ll be back.

We do not look gift holidays in the mouth

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Today on Math and Musings my son and I discuss at great length today’s “holiday.”

(It’s always good to pause for reflection at this point.)

‘Round these parts it’s Labor Day wrap-around weekend or some such thing, also known as sop to vacation industry. They start school in the middle of August so they gotta give ’em something, right?

Franklin and I both learn a few things, and hope you find our 15 minutes entertaining and informative.

Or at least mildly amusing.

It wasn’t drawn up like this

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In better times I’m fond of noting the fickle nature of baseball, that a team who loses 10-0 one day can win 10-0 the next, that some games end 2-1 and others end 14-12, and that sometimes the worst team in the league can beat the tar out of the best.

Well, my hometown team–that would be the Washington Nationals–are not the worst team in baseball, but their starting pitcher Tuesday night does lead the National League in losses. Actually Patrick Corbin is tied for the league lead, and could have moved into sole possession of first with an L at the hands of the New York Yankees. The Yankees, by the way, have the best record in the American League, and have won an astonishing 42 games on the road this season.

Last night the Yanks had their best starting pitcher on the mound: Gerrit Cole. He’s the reigning Cy Young award winner and he makes a million dollars a start.

But Tuesday in Washington he was outdueled by Patrick Corbin, and the best hitters in the game made Corbin look like Sandy Koufax.

It’s a fickle game but it’s also a long season, and a new win streak is never more than a day away. With my hometown team relegated to the role of spoiler, I’ll take a few more wins for the team of my youth, thank you very much.

Rejudging this

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I thought I was so clever last Monday when describing the relative unlikelihood that Yankee slugger Aaron Judge would one day break the all-time home run record.

I didn’t realize that he would hit one or two every day following this.

Might have to reevaluate some of that data.

Two things to remember: 1.) “on pace for” changes over time; and 2.) I’ll never be happier to admit I was wrong.

Seinfeld brings it at Wolf Trap

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I’ve been a fan of Jerry Seinfeld for over 30 years, but until last night I’d actually seen him perform live only twice.

(Pause for effect.)

Make that now three after last night’s show at Wolf Trap, conveniently located 10 minutes down the road from my house.

There’s not much I can say at this point about why Jerry’s musings upon life are and have been so spot on the past few decades. He’s got a certain comedic insightfulness and has been poking fun at the world now professionally for 50 years. He knows what he’s doing in pointing out our flaws. He’s very happy… hating everything.

As many of us do, I find myself thinking the same quite often.

And even though I was in the last row and could barely see the stage (thank God for the jumbotrons because basically I was at a drive-in movie) I enjoyed hearing every bit. The new ones about AI, etc. were good, yes, but it was the classics I came to hear. (Nobody goes to hear the Rolling Stones for their new stuff.) Bits about ’90s TV shows and latenite infomercials? That’s gold, Jerry. Gold.

Though we’ve never actually met, Jerry Seinfeld to me is like the good friend I get to hang out with once every few years.

Hope to do it again soon.