The Boy Is Back In Town

No, this has nothing to do with the Thin Lizzy song, my brother (aka 'the boy') is finally back from his 7 year (I think) exile to Dearborn Michigan. Having now been to Michigan a few times, I have to wonder what took him so long to get out. Other than the Henry Ford Museum, Greenfield Village, and delicious delicious bakeries everywhere you look, there isn't much worthwhile out there. I guess there is one other good thing: it is only about a 2 hour drive to Cedar Point in Sandusky Ohio. For those of you who don't know, Cedar Point is the roller coaster capital of the world, and the best damn amusement park I've ever been to. I guess I'll have to rent a hotel if I ever want to go back again. Unless somebody else I know moves out there and wants to put me up for a few days. But I digress...... I am happy to have him back in the area.

It is odd that he came back to town the same weekend as The Kid (Griffey for those non-baseball jerks out there). I got to see the M's beat him twice this weekend, and hopefully will purge all memory of that Friday night debacle before long. That was easily the most horrific baseball game I've ever been to. I should have known better than to go to that game though. I thought it would be easy to hop a bus from work (in the U-district) to downtown. Well, it was all smooth sailing until we hit Stewart. And after taking almost 15 minutes to get from one stop to the next - 4 blocks away - I looked at my watch and saw it was 10 minutes to 6 and figured I better get off the damn bus and get down to a Starbucks before every coffee shop in the city closed. I've tried to get a cup of coffee at 6:05 before in downtown and know from experience that it is impossible. I hate that.

Anyway, I got off the bus at 5th and Stewart and hit the Westlake Starbucks for my caffeine fix, and then proceeded to walk to the stadium from there. Surprisingly it didn't take that long. And along the way, I got to pass through scenic Pioneer Square, where I got to see the worst looking cross dresser I've ever seen (with a nice 5 o' clock shadow going), had several exceptionally smelly transients ask me for money, and got accosted by a gang of scantily clad hot women in front of Seahawks Stadium who all wanted to 'Tag' me (spray me with Tag body spray). I politely declined, although if their advertising is true, I could have skipped the game and made out with all those women since Tag makes me irresistible to women. If I'd only known that it would all be downhill from there, I would have gladly called it a night and gone home then.

Other things that occured to me this weekend: my hatred for the Mariners management grows every time I hear Cotton Eye Joe or Don't Stop Thinkin About Tomorrow. It's just a matter of time before I hear one of those songs one too many times and erupt in a massive explosion of uncontrollable rage and go on a killing spree. Also, what the hell is the deal this year with the M's playing We Want The Funk and flashing Funk Blast on the scoreboard every time someone hits a home run? Does this make sense to anyone? What started out as odd and confusing has quickly turned irritating and confusing. This may lead to me eating a lot of burritos and dropping my own funk blast on the music director's desk.