O-Dark-Thirty, Part One

I am not a morning person. It usually takes me awhile to roll out of bed in the morning. Normally I hit the snooze button at least 5 times. That's on a good morning. A bad morning consists of of sleeping for an additional hour in 9 minute increments. 9 minute increments. Why is it 9 minutes? Is it 9 minutes? I heard somewhere it was, and I think I confirmed it before. Anyway.

There is more lucid dreaming that goes on in that 9 minutes than my nocturnal slumber, at least that I can remember. When my alarm goes off the first time, it usually feels like my soul is being ripped out of me by the jaws of a steam shovel. Seriously, I think of that steam shovel in P.D. Eastman's book Are You My Mother? My soul is that baby bird. Sleep is my mother.

Up until the time it died, I had the same digital clock and radio for around 20 years. At least. It was a rectangular. It had a wood-colored top where the small panel of controls sat in the lower left corner. The front had the digital read out as well as the old-style radio dial.  The digital numbers had a dimmer switch too.

I remember sneakily reading Garfield books by the digital numbered lights while in bed as a kid. And I remember its soul-ripping klaxon. It pierced my slumber as a child and all the way up through high school. I don't think I took it to college with me, but when I moved into an apartment near home I got the digital blaring banshee back. The default alarm sounded like an elderly deaf woman wailing. I think that's the best description. Remember those deafening radio signals in the story Harrison Bergeron? It was also like that...but for my sleep...my dreams. I usually have no idea what I was dreaming or thinking before it went off.

At some point I started using the radio alarm option. Regardless of the alarm change, waking up was still like leaving a swamp while weighted down with 20 sleeping, easily-irritated little people. Notice, I said little people, not midgets.

At any rate, I think I will have to continue this post later today or tomorrow. This was meant to be a post about the peaceful time and nice experiences I've had in the early morning hours, despite the fact that I am not a morning person.

So, stay tuned for the next post where we may have a special guest appearance from Ted Knight.

Tired and Tardy

So, I think my policy is that if I don't get to start a blog entry before 10 PM on a week night, my post will be brief. On purpose. It's the last game of the NLCS. San Francisco Giants vs the St. Louis Cardinals. It's pouring at AT&T Park in San Francisco. It's the top of the ninth, two are on, and the Giants are winning, 9-0. 9-0. Yeah, it's not looking good for the current World Champions. Still, never say die, right? Right. I think the umps are considering delaying the game due to the rain, but really, it's the top of the night, two out, two on. The Giant's fans and players are dying to see this game end. They are putting in Sergio Romo to close out the game. The umps are working on the mound now for the pitcher. This is October baseball.

I definitely have some ideas for the next two blog posts. I would share them, but I won't. Which, I guess that means I wouldn't share them because I didn't.

My mom and dad came up to Skokie to visit this weekend. We had a nice and relaxing time. We didn't need to do much driving around or entertaining. We just visited, ate some good food, and laughed a lot.  

One strike away. Matt Holliday is batting.

Am I really live blogging a game now?

Holliday pops it up and the game is over. Giants win the National League Pennant.

Oh well, there's always next year. However, my next blog post will be tomorrow.

Full Count

The St. Louis Cardinals are in post-season baseball again. It's amazing to me that they manage to make it into post-season, but I am always excited when they do.  I'm excited and nervous. I get nervous because, well, "I am" a member of the team. I am a co-manager, co-owner, bat boy, a pitching coach and the batting coach. For most of the 162 games in a given baseball season, I am not as involved in the day-to-day games, in fact, I am more like a hot dog vendor. However, when it comes to post-season, that's when I'm called up, that's when my team needs me to play a vital role in the Cardinal's post-season success.

Well, that's at least how I feel.

And it's really no picnic. I'm sometimes relieved when the Cardinals don't make it into post-season because I won't be a nervous wreck for late September and most of October. When I say nervous, I should say an anxious, pacing-the-floor, face-palming, mouth-frothing basket case. I go from utter extremes and saying things like, "They suck. They don't deserve to win" to "Is this team unreal? They are unbeatable!" I try to pretend I'm not interested, but it's just no good. As soon as I think they are completely out of a series, they rally in the ninth inning on a 3-2 count. And they really do this! They rally on a 3-2 count! They just did this against the Washington Nationals. The Washington Nationals were the new hopefuls and the Cardinals ruined their chances.

The Cardinals were in the post-season last year. They made it in on the Wild Card and then won the whole blasted thing against the Texas Rangers who were in the World Series a second time in a row! And I believe the Cardinals were one out away from losing it all. Then David Freese hit a beautiful home run that sent in three runs for a walk-off victory.

I was raised a Cardinal's fan. And in small towns in southern Illinois, you were pretty much three things: Christian, Republican and a Cardinal's fan. The Cardinal fandom is largely due to the AM radio frequency of KMOX. Most people in southern Illinois, Arkansas, northern Kentucky, southern Indiana and almost all of Missouri listened to KMOX out of St. Louis for sports. KMOX had all the Cardinal games. They gave up the rights for the broadcasts for a brief period, but now they are back to running every Cardinal game.  Their best broadcaster was Jack Buck. I grew up listening to him on a crackly AM radio while riding in the truck out to visit my grandpa. It's another one of those warm nostalgic feelings.

I have not always been a baseball fan, but I've always been a Cardinal's fan. By that I mean, my passion and zeal for baseball has not always been there, but my default setting has always been the Cardinals. Much like some Christians are Christians in name only. They've not stepped inside a church in twenty years, but when they are asked on surveys they usually mark Christian.

I stopped being a fan for a variety of reasons, but I think some of it was tied to some weird rebellion against my dad. Dad and I didn't always get along. I was a difficult, jerk-of-a-kid at times. I really was. I don't think it was just normal adolescent/teenager stuff because I continued to be a jerk, especially towards my dad, long into college and graduate school. Why? There are a variety of reasons, but I'm not sure it's important to go into those things here. Nothing bad or horrible happened between us. Nothing like that at all. My mom and dad were both incredible parents that did an amazing job raising me and my sister. I was a very difficult person to get along with for a long time. I'm sure my parents would say I wasn't that bad, but it's in the past now.

Back to baseball. I think when I started to really reconnect with my dad is when my interest in baseball was rekindled. And when I started to get back into baseball, I really started to reconnect with my dad. There's something about talking baseball with my dad. I expect some men out there have similar feelings, but perhaps the sport is football or basketball, but not soccer. Never soccer. Just kidding. Sorta.

Over the past ten years I've been following baseball and my Cardinals with greater frequency. Been following spring training. Listening to the Cards games on the radio, which is still my favorite medium for following baseball, streaming radio, TV or an app called Gameday which gives play-by-plays with pitch placement, at-bats, etc. But there is still nothing like post-season baseball. There's this excitement and electricity in the air. As I said, I go from a passive watcher/follower to a member of the team. I feel like an overenthusiastic mascot that really believes he is instrumental in his team winning. And no matter what time it is, if the Cardinals clinch a post-season series or world series, my dad is the first person I call. After all, we both know the Cardinals couldn't have done it without us.

I take requests

So I was a DJ for a wedding reception last night. My wife's good friend and co-worker Katherine, asked if I could DJ her and her husband's wedding reception. I was honored and nervous about this request. I love music. Well, I love my music. And I have an eclectic blend of music. I have everything from Colbe Callait to Justin Timberlake, from My Morning Jacket to Cat Stevens, from Nina Simone to Metallica. I don't like all music, I just like great music no matter the genre. My favorite genres of music are probably Alternative, Electronic, Folk and Classical. And Jazz. And some Blues. And Country. Okay, basically, if I hear of a great album, no matter the genre, I will check it out. If I hear about a list of the best albums of all time, I will want to go through the list and try and listen to each album. I am not saying I will like each album, but I will try to appreciate the music on some level.

I think it's because of my love for such a broad range of music is the reason I have developed a large and eclectic library of music. I think it's for this reason I've developed a reputation for creating playlists and mixes for my friends and family. And I love that. I love sharing my music with people, especially when they enjoy the music.

As I prepared playlists for this wedding reception, I had to really put aside my musical interests. In fact, I had to do something I normally shy away from when it comes to my tastes in anything - I had to think mainstream. I had to think of what people love to hear at weddings and what they are willing to dance to at a wedding. I had to, in a way, be really unselfish with my music.

Katherine emailed me and several of other people invited to the wedding about our favorite love song and dance song. Several people responded, so I used that list to fill the playlists. My favorite love song was "In Your Eyes" and my favorite dance song was "Billie Jean." These were both safe wedding reception songs. I will say "In Your Eyes" doesn't have the danceability factor with it, but it is a very familiar and often nostalgic song. The other requests that came back were quite diverse. There were standards like "At Last" by Etta James and the more recent dance hit, "Gangnam Style" by the Korean rapper, Psy. Neil Diamond, Tony Bennet, Frankie Vallie and Chuck Berry were on the list as well. I ended up having to download around 15-20 of the songs. It was fun discovering more new music.

After I downloaded and compiled all the music, I then built a playlist to play dinner music and one to play during the dance. My dinner playlist had a lot of easy listening, jazz and soft pop music on it like Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Eva Cassidy and Jack Johnson. My favorite playlist, or at least the one I was most excited and nervous about was the dance playlist.

Would you like to know some of the set list? Okay, I will tell you.

I started with four standard, get-the-party started songs: Celebration by Kool and the Gang, Funkytown by Lipps, Inc and YMCA by the Village People. I then moved into a more contemporary song, Let's Dance by Lady Ga Ga. It was around this time I moved to some slower tracks with Elvis singing "I Can't Help Falling in Love" and Connie Francis' "Anniversary Waltz." And the next round of dance was kicked off with Billie Jean.

There was something really unique and beautiful about creating a playlist of music and watching people really enjoy themselves to the music. When I have created mixes and playlists before, I didn't always get to see people enjoy my music. This was different. If the dance floor was empty, I knew the song was not as danceable or as well known. Or the place was clearing out.

And then maybe there are a lot of people dancing, and the crowd starts to thin out, and like a conductor, I raise my hand and move some songs around play the ultimate crowd pleaser - the dance along song. For example, Cupid Shuffle, Chicken Dance, or the Electric Slide. I am not usually a fan of these songs because I normally get out of step or something, but I have to say, sitting back, watching the huge crowd of people on the floor dancing in unison is a pretty awesome feeling. I was thinking, I did that. Or at least I helped do that.

There was an ebb and flow of people on the dance floor all night. However, there were always my biggest fans, the kids. For the most part, the kids were the most vocal about requests and always the ones most appreciative the music. I was so glad when I already had some of their requested songs already ready to play. And usually I bumped it up the list for them. It's really hard to turn down the kids. And when they came up to me with their parents, I was like, woah, they think I'm a professional. I'm just a dude. I'm just a friend who was asked to help out.

One thing I learned is not to always trust my musical gut. My wife is an amazing, on-the-spot editor of musical selections. She would look at the crowd, look at my playlist and help me gauge if the song I had on the list was the best next selection. We were a great team. She really helped me out by getting me to remove some of my "favorite" dance tunes but ones no one would probably recognize.

And that's what it really is. Familiarity. You are there to celebrate the union of a man and a woman. You have known them for years or maybe just months. You are seeing people you maybe haven't seen in for a long time. It brings up all this gooey, sentimental feelings about family, friends and your past. And then you hear "Blister in the Sun" by the Violent Femmes and you feel like this is the single greatest event in your life and grab people and start dancing like you're back at the first time you heard that song.

I always thought I wanted to be a DJ because I wanted to introduce my music to the musically challenged. I wanted to impose my playlists, my tastes on other people who simply didn't know better. But I also never really understood that that's not what being DJ is about, at least ones who DJ weddings and Bar Mitzvahs. It really seems about pleasing the people. It's about making people happy. The next time some of these people may be together is for a funeral, so you want this to be one fun event they can refer back to that wasn't involving someone dying.

It's really much more selfless than I realized. I felt like all I had to do was create a list of music, move some songs around, take a few requests, and maybe announce a dedication, but I felt like a conductor. I know, I'm exaggerating the whole experience. I'm sure the alcohol helped out everyone's willingness to dance. That's fine. I'm not a miracle worker.

But it was down to three more songs in the night: Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, December 1963 (Oh what a night!), Hot Chocolates' You Sexy Thing, and AC/DC's You Shook Me All Night Long, and the dance floor was packed with everyone, including the bride and groom, and they were forming circles and circles of people dancing with mini-dance-offs going on in the middle, and you could just see this amazing aura of joy and happiness, and I knew that I couldn't turn water into wine, but I could serve it to the party.

With some sick beats.

The Boy Who Cried "This will be my shortest blog post"

Okay, seriously, this one is going to be short. I know I've said that before, but this time it's for real. Today is going to be a long and busy day. I would use some colorful expression to describe how busy, but I can't think of a good or funny one. No wait, I got one. I'm going to be busier than a cat covering crap on a hot tin roof today and won't have time for a substantial blog post.

There. See, I told you, shortest blog post yet.

Really.