Pastime Pleasures

The week has been fairly long and uneventful. I won't complain, because I honestly have no one to blame but myself. My mind has been reprogrammed to think that my new schedule involves working for a couple of weeks, taking a vacation, working for about 14 more days, then vacationing again. Look at my blog history: ranch trip, cruise, Vegas. Now I've stalled out and my expectations of a continuing holiday trend have deflated my daily motivation. Not to worry though. I consider myself very fortunate to not only be able to take the time off but have family, friends, and (the main difference this summer) some money to involve in my summer excursions.

"I think there are only three things America will be known for 2,000 years from now when they study this civilization: the Constitution, jazz music, and baseball." American historian Gerald Early may not be too far off from the truth on this one. I'd probably have to agree that there's nothing I enjoy more on a warm, summer day than chilling out to some Glenn Miller or Benny Goodman, loading up the car with friends and family to make my way to a Rangers game, then capping off the evening with a quiet reading of Article 1: The Legislative Branch. In particular, I love how baseball is classified as the American pastime. Yesterday, I went to the Ballpark in Arlington (I'm sorry I refuse to call it Ameriquest Field, unless they start paying me for that ridiculous endorsement), to watch the Texas Rangers take on the Anaheim Angels. Riding high in the AL-West Standings, the Rangers continued their success streak to beat the Angels 3-2. The excitement of the season is undeniable, especially after the Rangers have been through so many summers with little or nothing to be uplifted about. If it wasn't a terrible losing streak, it was a star player that didn't pan out. If it wasn't suffering the loss of a long-time icon to another team, it was the continuation of a long-time failing tradition known as the bullpen. But seriously, what does it matter? Did I lose any money or health over the Rangers' slumps? Have I gained any personal or individual growth from their extra wins? Some would say that that question is up for debate.

Every now and then I find myself doing this. I am caught up in the moment among the crowd with every other person around me, and suddenly it's as if a hand plucks me from the group and lets the action continue around me. These are the times that I begin to ask the universal question of "Why". I try to use this curse sparingly, as I am well aware that not everything should be brought into question. Not every system needs to be analyzed, nor does every situation need to be evaluated. But I couldn't avoid the urge with baseball. I had sat calmly in Section 41 for the first three innings, content in my seat down the first-base line with my dollar hot dogs provided by Decker, even rising to my feet when Soriano sent one over the wall during his first at-bat. It wasn't until around the top of the fourth that I was suddenly removed from the action and began to view it all as an observer. Very interesting what you can see when you step back from the activity to see the participants. I'm serious, you should try it sometime. Attitudes of the fans varied from leaning in and anticipating the next pitch to lounging back with their feet propped calmly on the chair in front of them. But amongst all the store-bought jerseys and blue Texas-T hats, there was a visible excitement of fans engulfed in the game, cheering their heroes and booing their enemies. No dramatic event caused this revelation, but for some reason I just started to soak it all in. The Ballpark is an incredible place with a touch of antique design to it all, but for those fans it was a battleground pitting good against evil.

On the other hand, there's a certain laziness to the game of baseball. No time clock runs as a deadline to when the next event in the sequence must start. The only real time that matters is the beginning of the game. Even then there's no real haste by any of the players. Every inning has a warm-up involved, as the outfielders toss the ball back and forth and the pitcher loosens up his arm. Before the throw to the plate, he has time to evaluate if the catcher's suggestion is the right call. No rush. And if the batter doesn't like how it's going, well just put your hand up buddy and back on out of that box. The umpire here will hold the game for you. And don't ever let a human resources consultant evaluate the outfield, because there would either be some major paycuts or personnel reductions after he saw the time they get to spend counting the blades of grass. Don't worry, I know their importance, and a comment about the idle outfielder would be taken back when the other team's hit landed where he once stood.

But you have to notice the irony that America's pastime is one of the most laid back sports imaginable. How many surveys do you think would show that the general attitude of this country is "relaxed" or "sedated". Yeah, right. Tell that to McDonald's and the never-ending desire for a faster food line. We're in an outrage if it takes more than 2 minutes to pull into the drive-thru and leave with a greasy foodbag in hand. Then we decide to combine things like driving and eating to subconsciously help make our day more efficient. Time is money. So what causes a person to become irate when they're stuck in traffic, even though they have nowhere pressing to be? Apparently, that same individual can instantly suppress that urge whenever a baseball game progresses at the same snail pace.

Brought back from the outskirts of observation into the view of reality, I would still agree that baseball is rightfully named America's pastime. True, the urgency and headache of meeting a deadline or maximizing a set amount of time is not present in baseball, but the purest representations of American philosophy are clearly there. Choice. The idea that an individual can decide the intent and timing for their personal actions. Bravery. A notion that implies lack of fear, whether in opposition to a team of 9 or in presentation for a group of 39,000. Heroes. That that individual could overcome insurmountable odds to bring himself and others to a point of victory. We are taught these ideas from kindergarten and on, but it seems that with time, politics and lack of integrity start to blur the visibility of its effects. It could be competition, the culture, the atmosphere, or even the individual players that bring you to see a baseball game, but ultimately, I think it boils down to the fact that winner and loser are cut and dry, plain and simple. You celebrate your team, its colors, its mascot, its logo, and even have faith that following a trumpet sound with a "charge" will in some way rally your supported soldiers to stand taller and fight harder.

Don't worry. I'm a spectator, too. Remember, I said I know that not everything needs to be analyzed. In fact, I enjoyed my hot dog and fries, accompanied by my king size soda, with as little thinking and pondering as the next guy. But curiosity got me on this one. The time is now 3:20 pm on Thursday afternoon. I just happened to complete the writing of all of this as I turned on the Rangers on the radio. With the MLB.com highlights window left open on my desktop, I continue to cheer even from the isolation of my office. No foam fingers, no dollar hot dogs, no trumpet charges. Just the hope that my team will end the game in victory. Currently, the score is 7-1, Anaheim. Things are not looking good for the Rangers. But even though I long for the win, there's comfort in the loss. Our lives would be incredibly depressing if our entire destiny rode on any single event. The game helps assure us that there is always another chance. Opportunity, another American trait. If not the next night, then the next season. Confidence is found in the fact that the underdog will never lose as long as he is still playing, always making brave choices and constantly striving for his chance to be the next hero.

Elation

With great shame I do hereby submit this tardy post. I am in the middle of what could be one of my most active summers, and yet, I tend to delay logging in the incredible events that I have been so privileged to participate in over the past few months.

Alright, so it's not that bad. It's just that I've seen some other blogs out there, and as much as I want to know the latest in your life, it's hard to keep checking when there has not been a post on some of those blogs since around March 30! But summer is upon us and you college types are away at your three-month jobs and not glued to your computer chair with multiple windows open on your screen. I'm really curious as to who reads this. I want to tell you the things that I've done throughout the last few days (or weeks), but I'd really like to tailor it to my audience. So I encourage you to leave a comment, or even just jot a quick email to justin@basdensteel.com and tell me you're reading. A published man likes to know who is turning the pages.

So when we last met I was still shaking the cow crap off of my boots and reveling in the pride of having moved multiple head of cattle. It would be a much different and difficult life, but part of me would love to live the life of a cowboy, if nothing else just for the cultural experience of it all. For now, I will just relive my bovine memories and hope for another invitation before too awful long.

Next stop on Summer 2004: Carnival Cruise Lines, funship Elation. My immediate family, along with some family friends (basically another set of parents and siblings we've known them so long) loaded up on Sunday, June 13th and left for the port of Galveston. From Fort Worth, it's long enough to get to Houston alone, much less past it for about 50 more miles. Mallory and Jordan, my sister and brother, survived the trip by turning on Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, not Mal's favorite, but the fact that 3.5 hours would be out of the way was appealing to her. Arriving at the coast, our illustrious floating hotel stood ready for our embarkation. Thirteen decks high and scores of yards long, the Carnival ship Elation dwarfed any ship that I had encountered before. Boarding the boat was mostly comfortable and already involved one picture after another by the Carnival staff. We walked up and up the ramp until we stepped out on the middle deck into the front atrium.

The size and scope of the ship was overwhelming. For at least the first 24 hours on board, I swear I was lost. Think about it, windows are within reach but often times you are just wandering down a long hall. Sure you feel the movement but who in the world knew what direction. Being of the male gender and wanting to quickly know and understand my surroundings, I set out on a trek across the ship with deck layout map in hand. By the end of the walk, I had found the basics of the system. Decks 3 thru 13 were accessible, and there were 3 elevators, forward, middle, and aft. Excited to use my minor bit of nautical terminology, I discovered that even-numbered rooms were located on the port (or left) side and the odd numbers found on the starboard (right) side. I had identified the areas of commerce, recreation, gambling, music, and most importantly cuisine.

It turned out to be a week full of incredible meals with entertaining and attentive service no matter which department you turned to. It seemed that even the store clerks were wanting to make you laugh. Our cruise took us to Progreso, Mexico; Cozumel, Mexico; and Belize City, Belize, each one having a variety of excursions to entertain you for part of the 9 or so hours that we were in port. But obviously a 7-day cruise could not be summarized into a blog of readable size, so I'll leave the nuances to myself. However, how could I have an accurate depiction of the trip without giving the Top Ten things I miss the most about my Carnival ship Elation:

10. The constant sound of crisp, blue water being cut by the bottom of the ship, spraying white waves back into the sea.
9. The chance of being able to step out onto the deck, whenever you felt like it, to have no land in sight.
8. Let's be honest: 24 hour pizza and ice cream. Only way to get that onshore is to camp out overnight at CiCi's or Chuck-E-Cheese!
7. The multitude of cultures and accents among the crew workers, my favorite probably being Romanian.
6. Putting my newly-learned Blackjack skills to the test on $5 tables, but most importantly walking away $75 ahead, including about 9 hours of gameplay.
5. Delicious dinners, complete with the constant care from our waiters Alexsander of Lithuania, and Vladislav of Russia. These guys were incredibly entertaining no matter if they were signing, dancing, describing an elaboarate dish, or forcing several at the table to join a conga line. Let me say, Dad, that I was quite impressed at your willingness to join the dance and do a rather fine job.
4. Strangely, the comforting voice of the elevator in a British accent announcing the deck you had arrived on. I can still hear her voice. "Lido Deck". "Promenade Deck". Yes. Jolly good.
3. Having a show every night after dinner involving comedy, juggling, dancing, or really anything to keep you clapping.
2. The crystal-clear water. If any of you have ever seen the ocean AWAY from the murky and slimy Gulf coast beaches of Texas, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
1. And, of course, day after day of fun-filled times with the family. I will definitely admit that I have an awesome family and I wouldn't trade them for anything. I think it should say a lot that three siblings, no matter what age, can live in tight quarters for 7 days and still come out liking each other!

So all in all, this was a great trip. Each port has an opportunity for various excursions. In Progreso, we visited some Mayan ruins, and then Belize was supposed to involve snorkeling, but the scroching sunburn that I received while at a beach resort in Cozumel kept me boat-ridden for that stop. Seriously, this sunburn was about the worst thing imaginable. My shoulders could've fried an egg, and then my strange condition of the 48-hour Itch set in. This is the second sunburn I've had that two days afterwards my skin begins to violently itch, and scratching only makes it worse. Allergy pills and Tylenol usually knock it out, but there's at least 20 minutes of trying to lie still in a bed while all you can envision are tiny bees running around your skin and stinging over and over. As violent as that sounds, those times were evened out with my top ten above and many more memories.

You see, I had to hurry and write this one because tonight I leave for Las Vegas, just a little trip orgranized by Mike Butts of A&M and Fish Camp fame. With a group of 11 Aggies and a t-sip (to help us communicate with the liberal weirdos), we'll be staying at the Hilton and then going to be there for July 4th fireworks and other festivities. In my opinion, this "having money" thing sure does help to spice up a summer! I'll try not to delay this vacation report like I did the cruise. I hope to return a richer man. So, as the King would say, "Viva Las Vegas"!

P.S. And I would also appreciate your cooperation with the reader census. Email or comment if you feel so inclined. Be back soon.