Whatever dudes

So the Mets choked. Again. Some more. I am disappointed, but definitely not surprised. It came to me this morning that my team has become the baseball equivalent of the early-mid 1990s Knicks, which is pretty sad. They look promising, beat the teams that need to be beaten, and then make stupid mistakes that eventually prove to be their undoing. To say that the Mets have become the premiere choke artists of the MLB would be an understatement; I think they had that one sewn up in 2007. This has gone on for three years now, and it’s sad that expensive mediocrity has become the norm for the Mets. Well, now I can root for either the Red Sox or the Rays; the Sox have always been my preferred AL team, but the Rays have such a good story this year (despite the stupid name change).

But on to other things. While the Mets were in Flushing crushing the dreams of their fans, I was elsewhere in the borough, attending the Hispanic Heritage Parade in Jackson Heights. Satanski is quite obsessed with parades, so even though our connection to Hispanic Heritage is tenuous at best (his maternal great-grandmother was from Puerto Rico, and I’m the usual black American mutt), we went. It was pouring when we exited the subway and I was sure that the parade would be canceled, but we’d come all the way from New Jersey, so I thought we should check. How smart I am! A local traffic cop told me that the parade was still on and a few beat officers directed us to 37th Avenue. My nephew, who at 3 has a completely unfounded phobia about police officers, was quite impressed with their helpfulness and shouted, “Thank you, police!” as we walked to our destination. It was supposed to start at noon, but it was closer to 12:45 before it actually got under way. As you might imagine, the sounds and colors were amazing, and the parade really got going when the rain stopped falling. I went largely to see my belly dance teacher and fellow students perform (to salsa music, which was actually a neat combination), but the kid was getting cranky and all paraded-out, so we left after they passed us by. I brought my smaller camera and did not properly charge the batteries, so I actually don’t know what kind of shots I got. I turned off review to preserve battery function and didn’t look at them when I got home, so I will go over and post those pictures when I get home after work (which might be delayed, as I just found out that Helen Wang is having a store closing sale and things are going for 80% off).

Happy Sunday

Today has been a nice day so far. I didn’t go to church with everybody else, so I got to awaken to a peaceful house (which was nice). I slept in, which means I didn’t get up until quarter til 9. I knit for a while, as I watched Grey’s Anatomy. I’m on the second disc of season two, and I’m almost ready for a break from this show. I think I’ll switch back to Buffy soon.

I went with Shiz to a street fair on eight avenue, lunch, and then a walk around Soho to pick up some longer length circular needles. I’m serious about making this baby blanket, and I’ll be all set once the yarn arrives in the mail.

I caught the bus home at Port Authority, but as I waited, I sat in Meet Me at McAnn’s and watched those sorry Mets lose to the Braves. Some guy was watching me express disbelief and then outrage as Heilman came in and gave up more runs, and was ridiculously surprised at how knowledgeable I was about the Mets. It’s a reaction I’ve run into somewhat frequently, so now I’m more amused than offended by it. He kept saying, “I don’t know how you know this stuff.” The first time he did, I responded with, “The same way other people know it: I read the newspaper and watch ESPN.” But that answer really did not penetrate his skull, so I didn’t bother to repeat myself when he asked again. He was pretty surprised to hear that I hate the Yankees, until I told him that it was mostly the result of fairweather Yankee fans. I told him that I found Yankee fandom kind of soulless, but he thought that word was a better descriptor of New York sports fans in general. He didn’t like the fact that I root for Boston in the AL, but what can I say? You can’t please everybody. I regained some of my points when we started to discuss Joe Torre, the Dodgers, and Manny Ramirez, and I still knew what I was talking about.

I’m glad I was able to converse intelligently and throw around names like Rick Peterson and Dan Warthen, and maybe blow this guy’s mind.