The United States Equivalent to that Space Between Your Toes...

Oakland. Enough said? Probably, but I will say a little more.

As many of you know, I am "questing" to see a professional baseball game in every major league stadium. Then I want to write a book about it. This quest sometimes takes me to places I would never consider visiting otherwise. Occasionally, this is a pleasant surprise. Sometimes, though, it is worse than anticipated. I have tried to group my trips to get as many games per trip as possible, which can be logistically challenging, but also fun. Hence it was with Oakland.

My intent was to go see a San Francisco Giants game. I was once a huge Giants fan. Will Clark is still my all time favorite ball player. I lost my Giants flavor a little through the cheating Barry Bonds years, but now kind of peek in their direction, like when you play hide and seek with the kids, and don't quite close your eyes fully...

Anyway, since San Fran and Oakland are just a bridge away from each other, I had to get both stadiums done on one trip. As I got to planning, I quickly learned that everything in San Fran is more expensive. Flights, Hotels, Food. All of it. So we looked at Oakland: the space between the toes of the United States. Seriously, to call Oakland the armpit would be a promotion.

My plan all along was to land in Oakland, go to the game at the Coliseum, and get back on the BART as soon as possible to get to San Fran. We took AirBART from Oakland airport to the Coliseum, which is very convenient, fast and easy. (I guess convenient means fast and easy, so forgive the double superlatives.) Once at the Coliseum, which could also be called Industrial Park Stadium, or even "The Stadium near the Junkyard", we wandered around to see the sights. The sights consisted of the Coliseum, and the Arena where the Golden State Warriors play basketball. They were about 50 feet apart from each other. I didn't mind being inside the Coliseum, it was actually better than I had expected after talking to others. Cool, old fashioned baseball diamond and field. And that is all there is to see in Oakland. Honestly. I hurried to San Fran as soon as the game got out.

If this post were about San Fran, I would write a bunch more, but this post is about worst places to visit. I submit Oakland. I challenge you three readers to post (in the comments) about the worst place you have visited and challenge the title I am currently giving to Oakland. Read on.

At the end of trip, we had to go back to Oakland to fly home. Getting there: Easy. Cheap. Once there: Run for your life. Yeah, we got swindled at the BART station. We needed a ticket for AirBART to get us from the Oakland BART stop to the airport. While buying tickets we had unsolicited help pushing the buttons on the automated ticket dispenser. This local thought we would not be able to figure it out all by ourselves, so he helped. The catch was: He was not just a good samaritan helping some tourists get home. Nope. Apparently his services cost money, being the valuable commodity they were. So after helping us he told us we had to pay him. I gave him my BART ticket that still had $2.40 of unused fare. A travel buddy, Sean, "gave" him three bucks. Small change sure, but a priceless cap to the Oakland experience. Glad its done. Eight of us went on this trip, and none of us could think of a reason to ever go back to Oakland. Perhaps I should call the Raiders and see what convinced them?

Over Under

Maybe I have been listening to too many podcasts about sports that all eventually talk about gambling, but last week in church I could not help but let my mind wander to other things. So I came up with a betting table for sacrament meeting. For example: I could be the bookie arranging bets on Fast Sunday. You could bet against the odds on whether someone was going to be the one to bear or not. I would arrange an over under for the ending time. Which reminds me, Eli asked me about Fast Sunday, and at the end of my best five-year-old explanation, he asked which one was ‘slow’ Sunday? I told him the third Sunday, High Council Week.

Our house really likes The Office. When the opening jingle plays, the kids stop what they are doing, run to the sound, and watch intently until it is over. An episode around Halloween really disappointed me though. In the episode, Michael goes to a website called monsters.com. The website has all kinds of roars, screams, and other monster sounds that he plays around with. Well, I went to monsters.com and it is nothing like it was portrayed on the show. I was so sad. I really wanted to get some monster sounds. This is one of my disappointments in life: Not enough websites with monster sounds.

Update wise: all is status quo. I am really eager to get out of winter this year. Rebecca is every year. The kids don’t care either way. I feel like I write this exact thing every February. One of you ambitious readers can go back and look at past posts and let me know. Once Groundhog Day passes, it drags until baseball gets going full speed at the end of March. March 21 cannot come quickly enough.

Tax Time

I was driving home from the gym today (do you like how I added my location to slyly imply that I am a health conscious person?) and saw the Liberty Tax Mascot. The lady was jumping around and acting like a maniac, all the while sporting the Official wardrobe of the Statue of Liberty. At this particular moment, I was the only car for quite a few blocks, and I could not look away. The lady was yelling and waving, but I could not hear her since my talk radio station was too loud, and I did not wave back, because I did not want to her to think I supported the Liberty Tax Company. This brief encounter, however, got me thinking: “What is the etiquette for these types of situations?”

I know politicians often do the “honk and waves” as election time nears. This is surely to get their name out there and fresh in the minds of drivers heading to the polls. I have also seen the 13 year olds advertising the Little Ceasers pizza that is “Hot N Ready for 5 bucks.” This must work as advertising because many companies have resorted to these tactics. I cannot honestly say that it has ever swayed my decisions when searching for fast food.

Back to the Liberty Tax Lady. Part of me feels bad that she is outside all day waving and trying to draw attention to herself with little to no reward. Should I have just honked and waved and then went on my way, even though I will never go to that business? Or did I do the right thing, to not give her any false hope of someone that supports that business? Aside from requiring their “street workers” to act ridiculous...I do not have anything against Liberty Tax, except that they have outrageous prices and I really like my tax guy. (He’s in South Jordan if anyone is looking for a good one. If one of you six readers goes to him, we both get a discount on our tax preparation fees.)

I have thought about this way too much, but I am still curious to know what the right decision is? I turn it over to you: the readers. Let me know. I think Mascots belong in stadiums, arenas, or other sports venues, not on the road to add yet another distraction to drivers.

Disclaimer: All photos were plucked off the internet and the author does not support, condone, or agree with any of them. Except I do like hotdogs and pizza.

Not A Resolution, but...

I am not one for resolutions. I typically subscribe to the fact that if you are going to make changes in your life, why do you need to wait for a new year to get it started? What makes it easier to change that bad habit on January 1st, versus September 23rd, or April 4th? I am pretty sure I have said it before, and I will say it again, in the immortal words of Bono: "Nothing changes on New Years Day."

So that being said, on January 1st, 2011, Rebecca and I started a quasi-cleansing diet/eat better initiative. I have never dieted in my entire life, unless you count the "see food" diet I have subscribed to since about age 12. ( See food? Eat it.) I didn't think it would be as hard as it is. I am having such weird cravings that I peed on a stick the other day just to make sure everything was okay. (Yes, this is Chad writing.)

I have approached this diet with the worst attitude ever. Kicking and screaming and complaining and wanting to quit everyday. Rebecca's usurpations and demands (read: encouragement) have been the only things that have kept me in the game. I like my sugar. My chocolate chip cookies. My flavored drinks. A day old donut is better than no donut at all. Water is so good, but I like a little Root-beer in my water too.

I wish I could say that the diet is a sham, that it doesn't work, and be a huge naysayer...but I can't. This simple diet has sucked almost 10 pounds (7) off of my fat. It has reduced my BMI as well. If I am ever in charge of worlds, however, I am going to make healthy food taste good. The foods get so bland. I can only handle so much of the leafy greens without dressing. I like my white bread. I could go on forever.

We are celebrating our success as dieters by going to Leatherby's. I plan to eat an equal amount of ice cream, in pounds, as I have lost in weight. Don't worry though, our "resolution" is that we are going to eat healthier over all. No more crazy diets, just healthier habits. Wish us luck. Well, wish me luck at least, Rebecca isn't struggling like I am.

Inspirational Times

A few years ago today, Pearl Harbor got rocked. Lest ye be confused, not the good kind of “rocked” that Def Leppard penned lyrics to. The “meet me after school at the church” rocked. In the days that followed the Pearl Harbor disaster, America stepped up to the plate and smacked in RBI after RBI. I have mentioned it lightly before, but that generation is so inspiring to me. Citizen and celebrity alike stood in line to join our armed forces. Those who could not qualify for military service obtained medical training, or worked in factories to build war machines, or did something. They did not lead protests against our nation, or give interviews calling our leaders cowards and murderers. A truly inspiring generation. I love their stories, I love the books about those days, and I am mesmerized when I happen to meet those who remain.

So this is my thank you to them, and to former and current soldiers of all time. Revolutionary War, Civil War, WWI, WWII, Nam, etc etc etc. Thank you thank you thank you.