Wednesday, June 01, 2005
  "The Hand" That Rocks the Wednesday
Without further delay, the Hand:

Thumb's Up: Thumb's up goes to two new members of the World Champs (what, did you think the Sox would take two of three from the Yanks in dominating fashion in the Bronx and not think they'd be the thumb's up???). Those two members are first baseman John Olerud and the reigning American League Player of the Week, shortstop Edgar Renteria.

If Olerud had a functioning right leg, he'd have gone 5-for-6 in his first game. Along with the sweet swing, Olerud brings a more than capable glove. And is a more than capable sub/replacement for Kevin Millar.

As for the other guy, sure, Rents has been a member of the Sox all season. But he finally showed up this past week, batting a sizzling .667 (16 for 24), with three consecutive three-hit games, followed by a four-hit effort. In all, Edgar batted 10-for-12 in three games in Yankee Stadium - including a wicked awesome grand slam.

Thumb's Down: To my short game and putting. I suck.

The Index Finger: Thanks to a nice chap on the internet, I was able to procure a copy of the new Coldplay album "X & Y." It's great. Really great.

I downloaded the first single, "Speed of Sound" a few weeks back on iTunes and thought it was a solid intro, akin to "Clocks." But the best song on the album - the best dreamy love song they've written, better than "Shiver," "Sparks," "the Scientist," and "Green Eyes" put together - is "Fix You."

If you watch the O.C., you've heard it and will know exactly when to yell "Seth Cohen is a tool!" Regardless of that morsel of pop culture that I long to hold onto as I enter my third decade on this planet in a few short days, when X & Y hits stores, so should you.

The Middle Finger: Ok, a big F-U goes to Barbara Ford, vice chairman of the Edgell Grove Cemetery Trustees in Framingham, MA. This see-you-next-Tuesday is snapped. Here's why.

A precocious second grader named Collin Kelly, from the hometown of Lou Merloni, visited the the above cemetery, and observed the graves of the veterans - including Framingham's Gen. John Nixon who fought in the Revolutionary war and led Minutemen from Framingham in the assault on the British at Bunker Hill. Collin thought it would be a good idea to plant flowers by their graves because many of the older graves don't have anyone around to visit them.

It's not a good idea. It's a great idea. Even more, considering Collin is nine, it's leaps and bounds ahead of a great idea.

Collin and his mom, Lynn, were guests on the Today Show and after the little fella told Matt Lauer about his idea, said: "I do nice things and I guess one person can change the world."

Damn skippy. A local TV investigative reporter, in that typical put-you-on-the-spot-in-the-most-embarassing-light-possible fashion, had Ford snap with a terse "HE'S BREAKING THE RULES."

Sometimes rules are stupid and meant to be broken. This is one of those instances. I think after Ms. Ford saw how stupid she looked, she relented slightly and allowed Collin and Marine Cpl. John Grigg, a Framingham native and recent returnee from Iraq, to place (not plant) flowers at the gravesites. There was a stipulation that they be removed by sundown.

(old guy soapbox moment alert...) In an age where kids of all ages don't care about much, other than the XBox and spending too much time behind the screens of televisions and computers, it's great to see a youngster like Collin have such a broad and touching idea and to follow through with it to the fullest. Good on ya, kid. Bad on ya, Babs.

The Ring Finger: Ah, June is on the calendar and summer love is in the air. And by "summer love," I do not mean that colossally annoying song from Grease that the cheesy chick chirps out at karaoke night at the local on Thursday nights.

I know as much about cars as I do about the Holy Roman Empire, which is to say that it was holy, located in or around the metropolitan Rome area, and it was an empire. Cars? Well, they have doors, engines, gas pedals, brakes and go beep-beep, vroom-vroom.

So to take it to the next the next step, boys (TLBR really is my big inside joke, isn't it?) about that Danica Patrick? Everyone is making a big deal of her because, well, she is a her. But simple anatomy aside, she is a rookie in the Indy Car League that made a few bold moves, avoided a few crashes, and damn near won the Indianapolis 500 - the most relevant race in the world.

A rookie. She ended up fourth. That's impressive. An impressive finish and even more impressive that it made me leave my boy Jay's deck that was stocked with burgers, dogs, kielbasa, and Miller Lites to watch her and scores of others drive in repetitive 2.5 mile circles.

But of course, if you're a player in tha game, there are player haters out there, and who better to try to show off his PhD (player hater degree) than Robby Gordon. NASCAR's "other" Gordon - the Dom to Joe Dimaggio, the Joe to Phil Niekro, the Frank to Sylvester Stallone, the Nell to Jimmy Carter - tried to downplay and place an asterisk on Ms. Patrick's accomplishments because "she weighs less than everyone else."

That's a great argument, Robby...FOR ME TO POOP ON! Sure, simple physics would give her a slight advantage because she is slight, but c'mon! It's a race, you're in a car. You do what you can to win the race. Wait, is that Norm Edwards I hear...ROBBIE, YOU PLAY TO WIN THE GAME!
So what next, Robby, are you going to complain about how aggressive and bitchy she drives if she's PMS-ing? And oh wait, is that Brick Tamlin I hear...I HEAR THEIR PERIODS ATTRACT BEARS! Go back to the treehous and put your "No Gurls Allow'd" sign outside, Spanky. And give my regards to Alfalfa.

Regardless, kudos to Ms. Patrick. A ring I place on thou finger for seven days, me lady. Oh, and in case you've been living under a rock that doesn't get good television reception, here is a photo of her and my ex-girlfriend. Sorta. Fucking restraining orders...that 200 meter halo can't stop our love Amanda! I'll take you by the hand, and make you understand, Amanda.
(did it get weird? it got weird.)

The Pinky: Back in the day, I had a band. And we tried real hard. But then Jimmy quit and Jody got married... (I can recycle bad jokes if they're MY jokes, dammit). But seriously folks, the boys from back in the day are meeting up in July, traveling to Pittsburgh for a long weekend.

Don't be confused, it's not the Brotherhood of the Traveling Pants, rather, a bunch of guys who, eight or nine years, about 30 or 40 pounds, and 60 or 70 miles-a-week ago, used to rule the roads of the East Side of Providence. Nowadays, a few guys are married, one's engaged, and two others - me in that boat - are just swinging bachelors.

Back in the day, it took the clock to hit 5:30 before we'd meet up. Now, it takes a flight and a little bit of work to get together. But that's not a bad thing.

It's progress and, darn it, progress is good, especially when you examine the successful life that each young individual has created for himself.

I'm of the belief that good people tend to associate themselves with other good people, which is kind of ironic, because from July 7-10 in Pittsburgh, it's prolly gonna get ugly.

That's it, that's all, it's Wednesday. So enjoy.
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A daily - or every-other-day - account of all there is in my head
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(I vow to attack this endeavor with an enthusiasm unknown to mankind.)

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