Watching the setting sun...

This photo just doesn't do justice to one of the most incredible sunsets I've seen in my life.


I was headed upstairs a bit ago, and just happened to turn the corner to see the most incredible, golden sunset I have seen in a long time. It's been a beautiful day...not too hot, not too humid, and all-around comfortable.

Grabbed the Olympus, and it...despite my wishes...focused on the screen in the window instead of the sunset.

It's all right. A photo just won't do justice to the memory.

Feh. Despite anything and everything else, it's been a good day. This was just a nice way to end it.

I think I remember how to do this...

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. I know.

I haven't written recently, mostly because I've had nothing much to say.

Life is good. I've nothing to complain about. Nothing to rant, nothing to vent.

How's things with y'all?

Whaddya think?

So, tell me, what do you think of the new header?

I had a few other images here before to choose from, but I decided...the panorama of Pittsburgh that I posted over at flickr just seemed to be the best fit.

Some folks wondered why the contrast was off. I changed the 'transparency' to accentuate the text in the box. Also, I like it against the black background.

Since the map's gone (and the people celebrated), I felt the page needed something.

And now we return you to your regularly scheduled blog.

Call off the hounds.

Someone found the Ivory Joe Hunter CD I mentioned in my last blog.
I've got it sitting here right next to me.

It
Sounds
Great

Excuse me while I put on my headphones and just enjoy...

And the search continues...

Sigh. I have issues. Many issues.

Today, we focus on two of them, since they're connected at this moment: My love of older music, and my unwillingness to accept digital downloads.

Over the past year or so, I've been searching for a certain album by Ivory Joe Hunter. I do realize right now a number of you are shaking your collective heads and saying "who?", because he hasn't really been active since before most of us were born.

Since I Met You Baby: The Best of Ivory Joe Hunter has some of his best songs. The title track. Empty Arms (I simply love that song). Rockin' Chair Boogie. A Tear Fell. Some of the best songs done by a man with one of the best voices, ever.

Sigh.

And the damn CD is out of print. Only a few places have it, and they want far, far too much for it.

Which leads me to the second part of the problem.

I could download most of the tracks from...shudder...iTunes, which I refuse.

Recently, The New York Times posted an article about the quality of MP3 audio. It's common knowledge that, when you take a song and compress it to MP3, you lose something. For the most part, when you're listening to compressed music through headphones, most people cannot tell the difference.

I can, and it frustrates the crap out of me. I know something's wrong, something's different, and it takes away from the moment, the experience.

That's why I still buy CDs. That's why, although I do have my music ripped to MP3 on an external hard drive at work, they're ripped with the highest bitrate MP3 has. And that's why I won't buy from iTunes.

So the search continues. With each passing year, however, it gets harder and harder to find some of the older music from talents forgotten today. Such wonderful music...lost...

It's enough to break my heart.

New neighbor or squatter?

Looks like I have a squatter, or perhaps, a new neighbor nesting in the corner of the rainspout outside my bedroom window.

I just noticed this yesterday. Gods know how long they've been out there. When the windows are open (which is as much as possible, unless it gets too warm...I can't justify the A/C being on unless it's over 80, and I admit, as much as I love it cool, I love the fresh air more), all you hear are birds (unless you're in the front of the house, at which point, you'll hear traffic, and if it's quiet, then you hear birds).

I could see the robin sitting in there. Guess there are eggs inside the nest. Since it's at the corner of a second story house, I'm not about to get the ladder out to check. Besides, they deserve their privacy.

My only concern is, when the Autumn comes, how the heck am I gonna clean it out of there? :)

Back home again after far too long.

Monday, I didn't get out of work until 5:30. A last-minute emergency project reared its ugly head, and I had the pleasure of prepping a laptop for someone to ship cross-country later that night. Of course, as expected, nothing went right, and I wasn't able to deliver the laptop until after most shipping places closed, but I wasn't about to let a bad laptop go out to someone...especially someone of importance...and have it fail on him. It looks bad for him, it looks bad for the University, and it looks really bad on me.

That ain't gonna happen, kids.

So, after leaving the office after a 10 hour day, one would think I would just want to go home and collapse.

Well, that's what you'd think. Me, I decided on other things...

June had come around already, and I still had not been to my home-away-from-home. I'd heard her call me. She whispered my name on the breeze like a lover summoning me, and I knew I could never resist.

The ballpark was calling me home for the last few months, but there were things preventing me from going...family, weather, funds...but no more, I decided. Tonight, I was going home.

I've waxed romantic about baseball before, so I shall try not to bore you with why I love this game too much. Yes, I could talk about the mental aspects, the psychology of pitching and batting. The drama that unfolds within nine innings of play. The subtle things the game has that draws me in and captures my attention like little can.

I could speak about the hope one has at the start of the season, and the start of each game. Hope that you have for your team to win, to take the pennant, to bring the glory of the championship back and how they share in the glory of winning with their loyal fans. I could tell you that, but given that Pittsburgh hasn't had a winning season in going on 15 years, I'd be lying.

Instead, I'll just let the pictures say more, and in a far better way, than I could ever dream of doing.

Instead, let me just share with you this gem, this cathedral, this ballpark that I call my home away from home. Taking my seat in the last row behind home plate, you can see it all. There's not a bad seat in the house, but to capture the majesty of this setting, nothing can beat Section 117, Row JJ, Seat 25. You can see Pittsburgh's skyline, a backdrop against the outfield, the skyscrapers towering over like monuments to that which has come before.

The field, where hopes and dreams are brought as offerings to the gods of baseball, each team hoping their prayer be heard and the winds carry their ball out of the park, or just let it drop in shallow right field.

You can see the antics of the fans on the big screen, dancing and cheering between innings (when they're not updating you with scores from out of town, showing plays of the week or Godzilla vs. Mothra...and no, I'm not making that last one up). It's also a great seat to watch people...those in their seats before you and those looking for something to eat, or a souvenir to remember the experience, behind.

And through it all, with the game on the field, the crowds around you, the energy and the life and all the magic that those produce, it's also just a great place to stop, breathe and be. Take in the moment. Savor that memory, that feeling that for just one moment, you can be a kid again. You can know what it's like to be free, to not have to worry about work, bills, family, life...whatever. Savor the moment, let the game take you.

Of course, then the home team loses another one-run game, and it's the mad dash to your car and fight 15,000 other fans to get back on the road and back to life.

That doesn't matter, however. For one fleeting moment, for a few hours...I was home. Back at my ballpark.

Back where I belong.