Some links

Some other stuff I've done in the last few days, because I sure as heck haven't done anything notable here.
At Just Other Things: Googling for dummies. (with a new update!)
At Getting to First Base: Athletes being people and people being athletes
At Ladies...: Ladies... Gift Lists

So there's that. I really, really, really, REALLY miss baseball season.
Oh, and here are two threads at Royals Review that win my award for Bestest Unintentional Comedy of the Winter:
Guillen is our best hitter - I dare you to question this
and
Can you all just shut up!! Farnsworth will be better in KC than Ramirez in Boston

I have no idea what I'd do without Royals Review.

Links 'n' notes

The Royals are quiet, so here are some other things I've been up to...
-Some speculation on the Matt Holliday trade before details came out.
-I really really hated that the Chiefs went for two at the end of their game yesterday.
-Some ideas for International Make Someone Feel Uncomfortable Day*.
-Last week's Hot Stove roundup, featuring hotties. Starting next week, I'll be writing on Mondays instead of Thursdays at Ladies..., so update your Minda-stalking schedule accordingly.

*by the way, I started a new blog as a spinoff of this one. No more non-sports here.

Back to Monday Night Football and studying. Toodles!

The most non-baseball post I can muster

Yep, another one of those "Other Things." I'll come back with some baseball stuff later.

This weekend at my neighborhood theatre is one of my favorite events to experience, and something I think everyone should do at some point or another: the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I went last night amidst a huge crowd, and as usual the showgoers ranged from regular jeans-and-tees folks to hardcore RHPS devotees in elaborate costume and makeup. (Admittedly, I do not have the confidence or the right type of wardrobe to be the latter, so I show up as the former.)

But something was very different about last night's showing...they had rules! It seems so contrary to enforce strict rules for RHPS, but sure enough the Dundee did not allow the usual props like rice, squirt guns, toast, toilet paper, etc. I understand that it's the biggest pain in the ass of the year (or a lifetime) to clean up after a raucous Rocky crowd, but anyone who went last night for the first time totally missed the full RHPS experience, and we all know it's not just something to watch, but rather an event in which every spectator is also a part. What fun is it to raise a toast if nobody has actual pieces of toast to throw around, and how are we supposed to feel the rain of that fateful night without squirt guns (and newspapers just like Janet's under which to cower)? If I'm not picking rice out of my hair the day after the show, something is very wrong.

Still, I'm glad I went. It was a good time, and there was some quality yelling from all corners of the theatre. My friends and I had feared that the line was too long and we wouldn't get in. But I made it all the way to the ticket counter, handed over my cash, and when the guy had given me my ticket he slammed his hands authoritatively on the counter: "That's it! We're sold out!"

I felt like the biggest douchebag in the world, and with everyone behind me staring daggers through me, I slipped into the dark theater about 10 minutes after the show started. Because we were the last in, there were no seats together, and we each had to sit by random strangers. Partway through, I got the triumphant news that the Royals had signed Eric Hosmer. It was sad to not have anyone around with whom to share the happy news, but at a showing of Rocky Horror, one is never too likely to find many diehard baseball fans. There were three baseball fans there of whom I know, and they were all in my group, and one of them was me.

If you've never been, and if the picture at the top of the post doesn't scare you, I highly recommend going to experience RHPS. Every city has some cool, quirky theatre that shows it at least one weekend per year. The cool thing about my particular theatre is that my mother used to go see new movies there when she was in high school (which was approximately when Rocky Horror was a new release). So every time I go to a movie there, I feel like I'm sharing an experience with Mom, because not a whole lot has changed in the building.

And I might even go again tonight, because the Royals already have done their best to suck the very lifeblood out of me today. But I won't post about it again, because this post is as long as I can possibly stray from baseball.


Let's do the Time Warp again!

ETA: If you're not familiar, check out some of the stuff from the RHPS Cult Following wikipedia page. It explains what I mean about toast, rice, etc.

It's about sports, but really not

For some reason I paused from loading my new Sansa with music to catch up on Deadspin from the last day and a half. I'm glad I did, for the latest installment of Balls Deep.

It's about Tiger Woods, but it's not about Tiger Woods at all (and it's some damn fine writing. For all his vulgarity - and for all Buzz Bissinger's resentment towards his work - Drew is a talented, thought-provoking writer). That's something I love abundantly about sports: the U.S. Open doesn't really matter at all, but we can make it matter, we can make it a moment to share with our neighbors or our grandkids or a reading audience or Facebook friends. It doesn't matter how good or bad the Royals are, but by sharing in the misery (and the occasional triumph), we make it matter, if for no other reason than to have something to share.

Is it healthy to obsess over sports? Maybe not. I probably devote too much time to baseball and not enough time to other things (exercise, drawing, reading the news), but I think it's better to be passionate about sports than to be passionate about nothing. And maybe in a way, bonding with neighbors and strangers about ballgames helps to prepare us to bond over tragedy.

People often complain, legitimately, that this world is way too impersonal, that people are too obsessed with their own activities to greet a passing neighbor on the sidewalk. (Heck, I am guilty of this sometimes - I started this post acknowledging that I have yet another headphoned gadget to buffer myself from the world around me.) How much worse would that be if we didn't have sports? Whenever I see a stranger wearing Royals stuff on, I feel like I can relate. Even though that person and I have never spoken, I can see that we have shared in a lot of the same things: frustration, false hope, just enough victory to keep us both hanging on and proclaiming our fandom.

With what else can you do that? I can't look at a stranger in the grocery store and say, "Oh, that girl is Catholic. We have so many things in common, such a connection." I can't look at someone and see things like that, but I can see what their sports affiliation is - I do have a way to relate to my neighbor and appreciate his frustrations and victories. That is, in the words of Sara Evans, a real fine place to start.

Customer satisfaction guaranteed...eventually

A long, long, LONG time ago, I wandered into a sporting good store and ordered a Brian Bannister powder blue jersey. Lots and lots of things went wrong with the customer service at this store, which I have detailed at Ladies..., but the jersey was finally shipped to a store in the correct city, so I went to pick it up today.

Turns out the store in which I placed the original order had made yet another mistake: Instead of ordering the $80ish "replica" jersey with crappy iron-on lettering (which is what I actually ordered because it's all I could afford), they ordered the $125 "authentic" model with beautifully stitched lettering. I was pretty crestfallen when I saw this, because I would either have to pay way more than I could afford and then feel buyer's remorse later, or wait another five weeks to get a different one, and have to keep dealing with this particular sporting goods store.

Luckily, the customer service here is much more competent than the other store, in that they actually did something to serve their customer (a novel idea, no?). So I now possess, and am currently wearing, a much nicer jersey than I ordered, at only the cost of the crappy-looking one and a few customer service-induced headaches.

Meanwhile, the Royals lost again. I was fortunate enough to miss this round of heartbreak (although seeing my O-Royals drop both games of a doubleheader wasn't exactly a picnic either), but my brother forced me to watch the bottom of the 9th. What a meanie. I really can not do this anymore, this losing thing. So I will turn to Kyle Davies for hope... :(

On doors and RENT

Right as I read the story about John Bale breaking his hand by punching a door, a commercial for Duranautic Doors was on. It made me giggle. What didn't make me giggle is having to add a Royal to the list of really stupid baseball injuries for the year. As dumb as Hunter Pence walking through a glass door? Nah...but still pretty dumb.

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This is completely unrelated to everything -- one of the "Other Things" promised in the blog title. I saw RENT last night at Omaha's Orpheum Theatre. The cool thing about a great performance is that, no matter how well you already know the story and regardless of the fact that you know every word to every song, you can still become lost in the story, moved by it like it was the first time you've seen it.

...unfortunately, this wasn't a great performance.

Our Mimi Marquez (I think it was Jennifer Colby Talton, but I could be wrong)was terrible, which ruins a great deal of the show. She sounded really meek, like it was her first performance and she was too nervous to sing out. She had a nice voice, but never let it rip the way I feel like a Mimi should. "Out Tonight" should be a loud, confident, forceful demand, not a mere suggestion that just in case you didn't already have plans, maybe we could hang out or something. To her credit, she was decent in "Goodbye Love," but for everything before that I wanted to go shake her and yell at her to just sing out, dammit.

Luckily, both Roger and Mark were really good (played by Heinz Winckler and Jed Resnick, respectively), especially together in "What You Own." Fun fact: Winckler was the winner of the first South African Idol.

The best in the show was Anwar F Robinson as Collins, which says a lot because Collins isn't normally my favorite character. The reprise of "I'll Cover You" was heart-wrenching.

I had to take a theater class last semester to fulfill some arts requirements, and my teacher (who is awesome) preached a 10 Commandments of Theatergoing. I wish more people would adhere to these things -- simple, common-courtesy things like not leaving your seat three freaking times during the show (my seat was directly atop an aisle). More disturbing was the fact that the Orpheum's ushers were actually seating latecomers in the middle of numbers! I can understand not wanting to wait all the way until intermission to seat them (even though that is technically the proper way to go about it), but for pity's sake don't seat them in the middle of songs! "One Song Glory" is such a powerful, intimate glimpse into Roger's musical aspirations as he struggles with the reality that he has AIDS, but all I saw was the back of a Simple Plan* hoodie, worn by a girl who was standing with an usher who had no business seating anybody at that time. Shame on the Orpheum for doing that.

*I wasn't aware they had any fans. Guess I was wrong -- they have one, and she is an offensive audience member.

Overall, I'm glad I went, at the very least so I can say I've seen RENT. But it wasn't up to the standards I've been able to expect from shows brought in by Omaha Performing Arts. Sigh.