In Which Your Faithful Narrator Discusses Art and his Crush

Art, is just a man's name.
-- A. Warhol

Last Friday my father and I went to the Indianapolis Museum of Art, aka The IMA. There is an exhibit of Roman art on loan from the Louve, that dinky little are museum in old Paris, France. It was quite an interesting exhibit. If for no other reason than the statuary from such ancient times. Looking at a statue, or wall relief from 2000 years ago does something to a person. Well, at least me, it made me feel somewhat small and a lot inconsequential. I am just a spec on the great time continuum.

I had a strange feeling of vertigo for a bit. I imagined that some of the Biblical characters: Paul, for example, might very well have seen these very statues. The history these statues have seen.

I like the IMA. Its a beautiful facility, and its free (aside from special exhibits like the afore mentioned Roman Exhibit). Its situated just north of Indianapolis in one of the more ritzy parts of town. Right near Crown Hill Cemetery final resting place of many a famous Hoosier, a couple Vice Presidents, President, and a bunch of other ordinary folks. But I'm not talking about the cemetery, I'm talking about the art musuem.

I go to the IMA a couple times a year, I walk through and look at all the paintings and sculptures and ooh and ahh at the talent on display and then, well I have to go see my painting. Last year the IMA's "tag line," or slogan was "the IMA, its my art." Cute. But I took them to their word and I do, in fact, have a painting. Its Edward Hopper's "Hotel Lobby." I'm not sure why that painting resonates with me, though I'm sure the blond in the lower right hand corner reading has something to do with it.

Is it possible to have a crush on a painting? Or at least one of the images in the painting? I don't know, but I think I might. I often find myself just wondering what the story of the painting is. Who are is the older couple in the upper left of the painting, and what about the deskman on the upper right, he's barely visible, he is partially obscured by the desk lamp. What is the story? Hopper is known for his stark renderings of images. You might call it pessimistic art, but this painting does seem to reach out and grab me. Maybe its because I have experienced that scene, I'm sure we all have: being a motel alone with only a book for comfort. That might sound like a good time to many, but that can be disconcerting. There is a difference between being "alone" and "lonely." And the older couple, they are standing slightly apart from each other, their faces are not happy, they're almost dour. The colors of the painting are not warm, either. Even the light from the lamps is discouraging.

Then there is the blond woman, sitting there reading. Her dress just above the knee, I believe its a blue dress. She's what draws me to the painting. I want to know about her: what's she reading, what's her name, what does she do, why is she in the motel... can I buy her a drink? I tried to give her a name once, but it didn't work. No name really fit. The painting to me, I guess, is the embodiment of that moment in time that everyone shares with strangers. It usually happens when I'm in traffic, or in a line. There is a connection with someone. I get to know them through their actions, never a word passes between us. But the actions and the reactions speak the volumes. I guess I will continue to be a voyeur and watch the the scene hoping for a connection...

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Asks the Deep Questions

Its raining outside, or at least it was when I came in; it was that hard drizzle that soaks you faster than a hard driving rain. As a result, the day is rather grey. Or is it gray? I think that "grey," is the British spelling and "gray" is the American. "Gray" must be American because I don't get that little squiggly line that tells me I'm snook of a speller like I do when I type "grey."

That begs a question, I think. Does "grey" mean something different than "gray," I mean if you write "prey" that means food for the tiger, but if you type "pray" then you're talking the Higher Power. These are the kind conundrums I deal with on a regular basis. Words... oh well.

I had a much more erudite entry planned in my nogginal pan, but I think it sprung a leak, the nogginal pan, that is.

In Which Your Narrator Says "You Love Me, You Really Love Me," or How I'm Found, or Keywords

pedal pumping

paul goeke lutheran-- That's the Rev. Most High Paul Goeke to you. And yes, he is the Lutheran's Lutheran! You don't mess with Goeke.

putting salt in your gas tank
i was there to hear your borning cry music
worst thing to put in gas tank
emptying gas tank
18 wheeler fuel tanks
is it better to have a full tank of gas than an empty one
i was there to hear your borning cry
metal gas natural tank
what does sugar in your car's gas tank do?
how do fuel tank cells work -hydrogen automotive
gas tank metal construction photos
things you need to know about gas tanks

if sugar gets in a gas tank what to do
what problems will i have if sugar is put in my gas tank -- who puts sugar in someone's gastank? I mean, come on that's just rude.

pedal to the metal costume
hitting the fuel tank
boat gas pedal pumping
hard track pedal of meta
flip flops gas pedal
gas tank t shirts
kristen laine college bands
empty tank auto problems
how much does a full throttle
putting salt water in gas tank
gas pedal pumping fun
emptying fuel tanks
male pedal pumping
pedal pumping youtube
what to do if there is something in your fuel tank

karl loofrin -- this one just kind of freaked me out, why is someone looking for me specifically...?

gas tank fell off going down the road
full throttle lifts
what do you put in a gas tank to mess it up
putting rocks in gas tanks
gas tank is empty but car will not take gas
what happens when there's water in gas tank?
fuel tank job
how do car fuel tanks work
four throtle

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Discusses an Installation in Today's Service

There was an installation in my church today. Rev. Raji Udhayanesan, was installed as an associate pastor today. He will be minsitering to the Indian population that has sprung up here in Indiana in the last few years. The installation was done during the regularly scheduled Sunday service, some Rev. Raji's congregation sang two songs in the Tamil language, which by the way has over 200 vowels. Yeah, I have troule with the five (or six if you count "Y") let alone 200. It is always exciting to see new ministries start. It is my sincere hope and prayer that Rev. Raji is succesful in this new ministry.

There were about six or seven pastors there to lay hands on Rev. Raji's head, my father was one of them. It was so good to see my dad in his "uniform." He admitted that it felt good to "do something pastorly, again," doctors have counseled him that it is unwise to preach. When he asked why, they told him that there is a certain amount of stress that comes with preaching that would not be good for his general heart health, as a result he hasn't done much church stuff in the last few years.

Like I said there were five or six pastors there, as they gathered around to bless Rev. Raji one of them walked away. He literaly walked out of the church. The whole congregation watched him leave. They didn't hear or pay attention to the blessings. As a group we all had one question on our minds: "where's he going." I thought he might of been sick, or something, but it turned out he was offended by something. I'm not sure what, but he decided that he couldn't do handle what was goig on and left. My father said something about him saying that he was bothered about something that didn't mesh with the LCMS. I really don't know what it was, though. My dad, in his tyical, sarcastic way said: "there's a special place in Heaven for him." In other words, he's next in line for the right side of God. My dad has no time for that kind of thing.

The whole affair just seemed awfully petulent and immature. His actions took away from the whole service. In my opinion if he had a problem with something he should of maybe stepped back, but not left and then gone to the pastor of the church to discuss his concerns. Come on, man, be a professional and remember congregations see what you do. Okay, I'm done with that episode.

In Which Your Narrator Gets Caught in the Great Exepience Conundrum

There is a saying, I think, that goes something like this: "I wasn't hired because I didn't have enough experience. How does one get experience if they won't hire me?" That's my conundrum today. I did not get the library job I applied for the other day, it went to someone who had more public library experience than me. That's a problem for people like me in Central Indiana. This place is lousy with librarians. When realize that there are at least two, maybe three schools that are putting librarians: the two that come to mind right now are IU-Bloomington and IUPUI, my alma mater. Of course they have MLS programs in the other satalite campuses of the IU system. So, the place is lousy with librarians.

I've had a hard time figuring out which direction I want to go with my librarianship. For a long time I thought I wanted to be an academic librarian, but that's an awful lot of work. I still do, to a degree, but I think my talents, such that they are, would be better used in the public library realm.

I know I should probably look outside of Indiana for a job, but I'm not comfortable leaving my parents. I'm not afraid of living on my own, I can do that. I just don't want to be far away in case something happens and I need to get back quickly.

I can tell you one thing: obviously that job I applied for was not "from God" as I wrote in a past entry. If it was I would of gotten it, right? That might of blasphemy...

Well, back to the employment pages...

In Which Your Narrator Discusses the Lone Dollar in His Wallet

I have broken the law. Well, I think I have, but I'm not a hundred percent sure. Let's say I did because its more romantic that way. I just wrote the following on the lone dollar bill in my wallet: You Are Not Broke. I have had that dollar in my wallet for the week or so. I haven't spent it, I've been tempted, but I haven't. I did some great damage to my bank account recently. So, if you look at my bankbook you will see that I am practicing deficit spending, but not doing a very good job of it. But I have this lone dollar in my wallet and for some reason having the legend You Are Not Broke written across the top makes me feel better. That dollar has become my talisman. Its tough to look into my wallet and see nothing where the money should be except for my written upon dollar. Its my fault that I am in financial straights. I have too much outflow and not enough inflow when it comes to money. I have put the brakes on the outflow. I have been watching my bills carefully and made calls. I have gotten interest rates lowered and discovered charges that were not authorized and had them stopped. I have bought anything for fun in weeks. My only "fun" expenditure lately has been my monthly fee for netflix.

In May I had a little sitdown talk with myself and said "self, your spending too much money on things." I replied "self, you're right. we must stop!" I have stopped buying food in the cafe at work. At a dollar or two it doesn't seem like much, but add that up and it quickly becomes very much indeed. I have coffee can that I keep change in. I used to use it as a snack fund when at work or school, but now its used as a rudimentary savings plan.

I keep eyeing my credit cards while holding a scissor. I'm going to get to that soon enough, but there is a certain amount of fear over that and I know that's part of what the credit card companies want. They want me to beceome addicted to their cards. I have them in an envelope on a shelf somewhere. If I need them I can get to them, but I doubt I'll need them. Yes, you read that right "them." The fact that I have to discuss credit cards in plural makes me sick. I just realized that I have three Mastercards, a Discover Card, and my checkcard is a Visa. Oh, I have a JCPenny Card, too. Who needs that many credit cards?

I work in retail, so I see a lot of open wallets. I can tell you this: I got nothing in cards compared to some of the people I see. I wince when a card is declined and they dig through their wallets to get another one... and that one is declined... and they write me a check. I feel like saying "don't. you don't need it," but I can't. But its not about them, its about me.

I got myself into this mess and I'll be damned if I let it get any worse. The only debt I feel okay about is my car payement and student loan. Everything else... makes me feel like a schnook.

It does pay to call the credit card companies and ask to get your interest rate lowered. I did that today and it worked. The interest rates were lowered, considerably. The best rate I have now is ten percent, the worst is about 16. Thank God for internet paying. That has helped, but not a hundred percent.

What this boils down to is this: I have not been a good steward of the blessings God has given me.

So, I will keep that dollar in my wallet. The one that says You Are Not Broke. It shall be my talismans. I'll keep it there to remember. To remind myself.

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Discusses a Job Interview

I had an interview yesterday. It went very well. At least I felt very confident that I did well. I don't like interviewing for jobs. I dislike being interviewed. I dislike the whole job searching process. I always feel so selfconscious when I'm getting asked questions like "so tell us about one of great successes," or "tell us about one of your problem customers you might have had..." I'd rather get the questions like "do you want to work here?" "yes" "Okay, you're hired." That'd be nice, wouldn't it?

The position I applied for is a position that I think was sent by God. I'm only half kidding about that. It is a full-time reference position at the library near my home (two miles away, to be exact, I clocked it on my way home from the interview). I could walk there, if I wasn't afraid of getting run-over by an SUV driven by a someone balancing a Starbuck's coffee and talking on the cellphone while driving with their knee. I'm not so worried about the side streets, its Rte 31 I'm afriad of, but I'm trying not think that I "got the job." I'd hate to get myself all worked up and then not get it. I feel confident I did well, but that's as far as I'm going with it.

It was kind of by accident that I discovered the position available. I was poking around the website of my local library, something I hadn't done in a while. I clicked on the link dealing with "career opportunites" and there was the notice for a full time adult services reference librarian. I read the notice and just sent my resume. I got an email setting up an interview. My head was spinning a bit yesterday, as I tried with all my nogginal fortitude to keep the expectation and hope to an even keeled level. Yeah, I was and am excited about the possibility.

The hours are great, the money's good, too. Its better money than I'm making at my present place of employ. Almost three dollars more an hour. Since I am an hourly employee at my current employ I look at pay rates hourly. It helps me gauge what I might be getting myself into. If nothing else the savings in gas will be amazing and the my friends is key and I wouldn't be putting 250 miles a week on my car going to and from my current employ.

I have been doing alot of praying about the job yesterday and today. Okay, maybe not prayer, mabye begging would be better... *chuckles* but I really do feel confident and excited about the opportunity that has presented itself. So, here's to fingers crossed and hands folded.

I'll keep you informed.

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Discusses His Future

You know that picture I have on the upper right corner of my blog. The picture of the shadow figure at the Y? I took that last winter of myself in Miliatary Park. When I took it, I didn't think that it would become such a symbol to me. Right now, that is my life. I am, and have been, at a cross-roads in life for a few months now. I think I've been sitting on a metaphysical log though, trying to figure it out. Which road to take. T.S. Eliot tells us to take the road less traveled, I think, but sometimes that's the wrong option. Sometimes the smooth road is the one to take.

Recently, I prayed that God's will, not mine, be done. I've been praying that a lot lately. I've been praying that a couple times a day, every day for the last three weeks. Decisions are going to be made. They have to be. I have an interview tomorrow at my local library for a full time adult reference position. It is, in short, exactly what I want to do. It's painful how much I want to do it. A few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that retail just wasn't going to cut it for me any more for a variety of reasons. One, its hard on my body. My knees, hips, shoulders, and feet are in a general state of aches. Two, the money, though decent, is not great. Three, I want to make my degree work for me since I worked for it for two years its time to see what that baby can do for me.

Those are the things I want. I have to stop and remind myself that what I want is not necessarily what God wants for me. I pray that His will be made clear to me. I like how a DCE I used to know would pray for that kind of thing: he would pray "Lord, make it PAINFULLY obvious what you want me to do." I'm not so sure I'm down with the "painful" part, but I like it when its a bit flashy, perhaps. I'm not the brightest guy in the bar, I need some flashing and blinking and some shiney. I need to notice it. Subtle doesn't always work for me.

I sent my resume out to a couple other libraries. I haven't heard from either of them.

So, tomorrow I'll be interviewing with my local library. I'm excited about the fact. I interviewed a few months back for a parttime position, I was offered the position, but I ultimately turned it down because I just couldn't do it, school, and my full time job. And at the time, my fulltime job (retail) was very important. I needed that in order to survive. I'm not looking for another job because I don't like my current one, as a matter of fact, I quite enjoy my current job. I like what I do.

So my prayer this night and the next few nights will be for guidance and knowledge. I need some handholding right now a little tug here and there in the right direction.

In Which Your Faithful Narrator is Found

pedal pumping
pedalpumping job
signed copy of blue like jazz
something gas tanks shouldn't do
driving a car on empty gas
spider two white dots underneath
http://da-ipz.blogspot.com/2006_02_01_archive.html
when someone put sugar down your gas tank
i never ever had a wood put the pedal to the metal
how to empty a fuel tank
why not to race with half a tank of gas
what happens when there is sugar in your gas tank?
krass and bernie
minister appreciation month poems
2005 night train gas tank
full throttle books
gastank
pastor paul goeke
truck stuttering when pushing gas
book of concord reader's edition
male pedal pumping on television
full throttle fan game
male pedal pumping
calhoon don't want the ball
throtle watch
spider brown black patch wh
kid rock gas tank
empty gas can
constantly running gas tank near empty
what does theology and geometry mean to ignatius
borning cry
ihop coffee

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Watches the World Go By

Sitting at the circ desk. Watching the baby lawyers walk by. So determined. So anxious. They walk with their heads down, not making eye contact. Its better that way, I suppose. No eye contact no social interaction. That's better, too sad. I watch them, with their heads down and their eyes to the floor and wonder if they are happy. Do they really want to do what their studying for? Is there a point where they can cut their losses? Probably not. I work with a guy who used to be a lawyer. He did it four three years. Hated it. I asked him about two weeks ago if there was a point in law school when he realized he didn't want to be a lawyer. He said yes. I asked him why he didn't quit. His answer: he was too far in and owed to much money. So he did something he hated for three years and quit. Makes me wonder about myself.

I've been trying to write poems again. That's a lie. I've thought about trying to write again, but the idea brings nothing. I can't even find a voice to try and write-- this doesn't count. It does, I suppose, but maybe writing here and other places in this form has taken the need for other writing away. I don't know.

Sitting here listening to DJ Shadow via my iPod. I have one earbud in my left ear. Its so quiet here in the library, that's a good thing, I know, but it can be a bit disconcerting sometimes. Its that whole "its quiet, too quiet" thing that gets to me. And yet, I strive for some silence in my life. Working retail makes me crave silence and fuels my misanthrope attitude. I don't hate people, really. We just wear me out.

I have had the need to paint lately, I haven't actually gone and done it, but I kind of feel the need for it. I painted for a little while in college. It was fun, but messy and a bit expensive. William Carlos Williams once said the he became a writer because he didn't feel like lugging canvas, paints and easel around. There's a lot to that, isn't there?

The music has changed to The Mystery Sonatas. It'll change to something different in a minute, thank goodness for iPod shuffle, it makes life's soundtrack so... different.

See... its now playing something from Lucky Number Sleven soundtrack. I think my iPod knows my mood: quiet contemplation. You know my favorite album I have on my iPod is the soundtrack to Rick Burns' documentary about New York City. I listen to it often. Almost too much, actually.

I wonder what kind of life will be made from my movie I'm starring in. Yeah, you read that right. That's a bit of a misquote from Kinky Friedman, a smart man. He should be president, lord knows not a candidate right now even gets me a little excited. I'm hoping for a "none of the above" option come next election day.

Any candidate that tries to cozy up to the "religious Right" makes me automatically nervous. Just like any candidate that gets too comfortable with moveon.org or something like that. I hate politics by soundbite. How did I get involve with politics?

I'm tired and contemplative. That's never a good combination. I can get depressed and go into a funk. That's not good, either. I just need a good night's sleep. A good uninterrupted night's sleep. A complete day off. I need a vacation.

I need a good, cold beer.

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Discovers Chicanery and Does Something About It*

it pays to watch your bills. in the last two weeks i have noticed some strange charges on my credit card bill, my checking account, and on my t-mobile phone bill. each charge was ten dollars. not something one really notice. the first one was on my checking account, it was for 10 dollars. i had noticed a month before, but i didn't do anything about it, i wasn't sure what i had purchased, but i let it go. then it happened again. so, i did a little research. the company's name on the charge wli*reservations. i didn't have the foggiest as to what that was. luckily, there was what appeared to be a phone number next to the charge, so i called the number and low and behold it was a company. after going through an electronic operator i was able to get the charge taken off. the problem was i hadn't the foggiest how it got started. i bought something online, a cd i think, and i have a feeling that there was an "offer" that i didn't say no to.

yesterday, i was checking an account of a card i don't use any more and had cut up and thrown away. i've been trying to pay it down. i noticed a 9.99 charge for something i know i hadn't authorized. i called the credit card company and they told me who it was. i told them that i hadn't authorized said charge, they gave me a number and i called. i was pretty livid, actually. i talked to this girl on the phone and told her that i hadn't authorized, nor even knew what the company was. i had gone back and checked old credit card statements and they'd been charging me 9.99 for almost six months. SIX MONTHS! for what? i haven't a clue. i got that charge taken off. however, i didn't feel very good about it, so i called back the credit card company and had them cancel the credit card number and issue me another. i'll be watching that statement very closely for the time being.

today, i was looking at my cell phone bill and i noticed a 9.99 charge. it had been there last month, too. it was from a company called "thumbplay." i called t-mobile and asked what it was for. i had downloaded one, just one ringtone from thumbplay to my cellphone (rl burnside tune, sounds very cool when it goes off). it turns out that tumbplay had been charging me 9.99 a month for essentially nothing. if i had seen the charge of 9.99 for anything from thumbplay i would of said "hell nah" when i downloaded the song. i got a guy at t-mobile who was either over caffinated or just really high on life, but he was able to stop the charges AND he credited me 9.99 on my next bill. i will be watching that bill closely, too.

these three experiences have left me a little shaken. and made me a bit angry, a lot angry, truth be told, but it just goes to show that you have to watch your bills very closely. check those statements and be oh so careful when buying anything on line. one of those charges got attached to my credit card after purchasing a dvd from either dvdplanet.com or deepdiscountdvd.com. either way, just be aware.

* originally posted at opendiary.com

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Goes Down the Rabbit Hole of Memory Lost

Yesterday at work I had a conversation with a guy who was looking for a book about Ed Roth, of Rat Fink fame. Ed Roth was an artist that made hotrods, or more importantly completely recreated the art of the hotraod, he was also a legitmate graphic artist who created automotive inspired art, hence Rat Fink. You've probably all seen the Rat Fink character on t-shirts and posters-- he's usually a overgrown rat in a souped up hotrod, slobbering over a gearshift topped with a skull and there are flames blowing from the exhaust pipes and dust and gravel spewing from behind the rear tires.

As we talked the guy said something about CARtoons magazine. I almost fell over. I used to subscribe to that magazine when I was in middle school. I was never a car-guy per se, that is I was never a grease monkey, nor did I know anything about cars, but I liked the magazine, I thought it was funny. CARtoons magazine was kind of like a Mad Magazine for the gearheads. The thing is that I have never talked to anyone who remembers the magazine. I get blank stares when I mention it. I had gotten to the point in my life that I thought it was a made up memory. I wasn't sure that the magazine had existed. Turns out it did. When the guy mentioned it I about freaked out. I think he was a bit surprised at my excitement over it. We talked for about ten minutes about the magazine and I rattled off some of the things I remembered about it. I particularly remember
Krass & Bernie. They were definitely two gearheads. They were drawn by a guy named George Trosley, a well known artist in car circles. I remember Krass & Bernie because they were always designing these crazy cool hotrods that usually ended up in some way or another not going anywhere. The Krass & Bernie strip was usually at the beginning of the magazine.

I guess in weird way it feels good to have a memory validated. I seriously thought it was a memory I had made up, though, I knew it wasn't. Its too bad the magazine has stopped publishing. It really was a lot of fun.

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Discusses Traffic

Yesterday, as I was driving home from work contemplating life and my place in it (all the while listening to Pink Floyd's The Final Cut) I got tied up in a bit of a traffic jam. Traffic was moving, but slowly. Whenever I get into those situations, my first thought is the opening credits to Office Space and I look for a guy pushing a walker I can race. Alas, there was no one pushing a walker, so that fantasy was dashed upon the rocks of reality rather quickly.

As the traffic slowed to a turtle crawl I became a bit impatient. I'm not a road-ragie kind of driver. I don't flip people off if they cut me off, I might curse a little, but I'm not a guy that acts out, its just not worth it, but I wanted to get home. I had had one of those days at work that makes work a bit unbearable, I was tired, and a bit irascible, in short, I had rather have been anywhere but in my car in a slow traffic pattern.

I found myself tucked in between 18-wheelers: one on my right, one in front and one behind. And since I drive a little Cobalt, that can be a rather uncomfortable position to be in, I feel like I'm a small bug amongst very large feet.

I had an opportunity to look at the back end of the semi in front of me and I realized something: the back end of the semi has a fairly large metal bar that hangs down about a foot or so. It is obviously a step to help said trucker get into the backend of his truck, but I realized that that strip of metal is also low enough to keep the frontend of my car from going under the truck. That just stuck me as very utilitarian and made me feel very grateful, I'm not entirely sure why, though.

Then there was the rubbernecker part of me. When I get into slow downs on the highway like that, I secretly hope to find mangled cars and drama on the side of the road, but then I quickly feel guilty (as well I should) and hope that its just road construction, but still... in the dark part of my mind that I don't like to think about I hope...

After about fifteen-minutes of slow going I finally came upon the cause of the slow down. It was in fact an accident and it might of been a bad one, but I couldn't really see (which was alright). I just hit the gas and drove on home.

In Which Your Faithful Narrator Looks at the World Somewhat Stunned

"The Mets meltdown is complete." I read that in the sports section of the paper today. "The Mets Meltdown is complete," indeed, how true. Losing something like 15 of their last 17 games, going one and six in a seven game home stand... does nothing, not when the team in second place is winning games when your team is losing. So, the Mets who lead the National League East for most of the summer, I think something like 85 or 90 days, fell apart, and that's putting it nicely. Self-destructed says it better.

Looking at the boxscores this morning I had to do a couple double takes. The last few years, I've automatically, in my mind, given two spots to the Yankees and the Red Sox. They are usually givens for postseason play, actually, I'm almost bored with those two teams. But the rest of the boxscores are something different.

You've got Cleveland atop the AL Central division and the Angeles atop the AL West. Those two teams in and of themselves aren't that surprising. In recent years both have had access to the Big Dance calle postseason, and the Angeles, with their little rally monkeys actualy took home the trophy a few years back, if my memory serves correctly.

Them over on the National League side of things we have Philidelphia (cursed Philidelphia), Chicago, and Arizona atop their respective divisions (East, Central, and West). The NL wildcard will be decided via one game playoff tonight: Colorado Rockie and the San Diego Padres.

Who to root for. I can't in good conscience root for the Phillies. They unseated my team (okay, okay, my team unseated themselves, but that is neither here nor there) I refuse to root for the Cubs, I have a long standing dislike for the Cubs and the only time I'll watch the Cubs on tv is when they are playing the Mets. I may root for Arizona, but I don't know much about them, though, they did beat the Yankees for the World Series Championship in 2001.

I can't root for the Yankees. No selfrespecting Mets fan lets themselves do that. It's just not done. Now, I feel alright about rooting for Cleveland, but I generally don't root for AL teams because of my dislike of the Designated Hitter rule.

So, the Mets are done. Gone. Out. They played the worst baseball in history, period. Their Meltdown is one for the books. But you know something, their my team... and I'm wearing their colors right now.

Go Mets! 2008 awaits.