On the Road: PNC Park (Part 3)

Still MORE stuff I learned while watching some baseball with my father in the 'Burgh...

*"Turn It On Again" by Genesis is a pretty cool song in the right circumstance: PNC Park played this Wednesday night to get the fans excited...then abandoned it. Hey, it's a pretty good "get pumped" song. I am all in favor of more Philbert Collins at the ballpark. I would support a campaign to make him Official MLB Ambassador of Getting Pumped.

*The National Anthem is also pretty stirring, even in a 'Burgh accent: Before Wednesday's game, the Steel City Enrico Caruso several rows behind us sang along to the "Star Spangled Banner" in full Pittsburgh voice. In fact, I was surprised the guy didn't sing, "O, say, can yinz see?"

After his spirited, entertaining, but not disrespectful rendition, the guy told his companions he was "fired up." Was it the game? Was it the song? Was it Phil Collins? I suspect it was the beer, as I heard him mention he had been drinking earlier. (Un)fortunately, he was pretty quiet once the game started.

*Pittsburghers, like fans everywhere, can have the dumbest arguments: And of course the level of discourse in the stands is inversely proportionate to the amount of beer flowing. The second night we were at the yard, Dad and I overheard some of the most inane chatter imaginable. A fan of that night's visitor, the Atlanta Braves, was in a heated running debate with some tanked hometown faithful about 10 rows down.

I can only hint at the conversation because we unfortunately forgot to send a self-addressed stamped envelope and request a transcript before we left town. Basically the talk degenerated quickly into hockey boasting, with the Bucco booster asking, "Does your town have an NHL team?" He said it more like a statement than a question, as if it alone was the definitive end to the baseball argument they were having. This led, of course, to an attempt to compare Stanley Cups won and Super Bowl rings.

The oddest thing about this chat session, and the thing that made it one of the most absurd I've ever heard in my life, was the fact that the Atlanta representative was wearing a Pirates hat. This stimulated a natural question, namely, "Why are you wearing a Pirates hat?" The unhelpful but amusing (to us) reply? "I NEVER liked them!"

This whole scenario was a solid argument in favor of cutting off beer sales at a certain point in the game, but I will say that at no point did it become too obnoxious. It mostly ran throughout the evening as occasionally jarring but mostly entertaining background chatter. Dodger fans get to take a radio and listen to Vin Scully as they sit and enjoy a game; Pirate fans get to sit back, stretch out, and take in the sounds of intelligent conversation such as that.

On the road: PNC Park (part 1)

My dad and I enjoyed an outstanding road trip to see a few Pirates games at PNC Park a few weeks ago, and I learned a lot during our visit to the Best Ballpark in America. This week Here is some of the wisdom I can pass along to you:

1) PNC Park is the Best Ballpark in America: Don't believe me? Just ask anyone that works there. It's on banners, it's in their promotional videos...I suspect if we had gotten a speeding citation within earshot of the stadium, the cop would have scribbled it on the ticket. Hey, when your team hasn't had a winning season since 1992, this is the kind of thing you market.

2) Manny's there on the weekends: It seems like every major league stadium has a food stand area that is allegedly owned and operated by a former team standout. At PNC, Manny's BBQ sells...salads and low-fat smoothies. No, I'm kidding; it sells BBQ, and I suppose it sells the prestige of eating at former Bucco catcher Manny Sanguillen's place. In reality, the pulled pork was pretty good, but there wasn't an actual "place" with tables so much as a tent where you paid for and then left to go find somewhere to stand and eat, and the old backstop wasn't there. A guy came up as we were getting our grub and asked, "Where's the old catcher?" In fact he asked it several times before he grasped what the worker told him, that he only shows up on the weekends (this was Wednesday, and Manny must have been at home prepping another colossal batch of BBQ sauce). "Tell him his old golfing buddy ___ showed up to say hi," the guy said. I guess he wanted a little more of a connection that just a sandwich. The woman staffing the BBQ stand, to her credit, didn't roll her eyes.

3) Manny may not be there, but the camera is ALWAYS there: One evening, during one of those ubiquitous "let's show fans dancing while we blare rock music" segments between innings, the giant scoreboard showed men and women, young and old, all getting down to U2's "Vertigo." Then we suddenly got a shot of a girl about 7 or 8 who was finding a different kind of groove--a tunnel in her right nostril, one she was digging with her own finger. Not all Pirates fans like to search for buried treasure, but, yes, some of us do.

She realized right away she was on the big board and yanked that finger out, clearly mortified, but at that point it was too late. The segment was no longer about enjoying the music. My dad and I felt terrible for the poor little girl. Oh, we laughed our asses off, of course, but we felt terrible.

More to come this week. Stay tuned!

On the Road: I sample Me-TV

While on the road last weekend, I sampled the local Me-TV station. I had some strong opinions even before ever watching any Me. I love the concept--classic TV around the clock--but I wish the selection were more varied, and I dislike the editing of episodes that is reportedly becoming more widespread throughout the schedule.

Me-TV draws heavily from the CBS-Paramount and the MTM libraries with some other miscellaneous shows sprinkled in. This gives it a star-heavy, iconic lineup of classic favorites. Unfortunately, many of these evergreens are readily available on DVD and/or longtime fixtures of both cable and broadcast syndication. So the good news is, you get a lot of beloved oldies, but the bad news is if you're old enough, you've seen most of them many times over...or at least had the opportunity.

Yet while I would love to see a lineup more loaded with obscurities, I recognize there is a loyal audience for stuff like "I Love Lucy," not everyone has cable, not everyone buys DVDs, et cetera. But, jeez, do we need any outlet to run MASH multiple times a week nowadays? That said, I own all the "Honeymooners" episodes on DVD and don't need to watch possible cut versions with commercials, but it's nice to know it's on there.

I think the best thing about Me-TV is it provides the kind of comfortable presence TV Land used to give its viewers. You can turn it on anytime without risk of encountering George Segal making sex jokes in some horrible modern-day sitcom. I was hanging out with family quite a bit over the holiday weekend, and it was nice to have a channel we could just leave on as background or put it to if we wanted to wind down in between activities or whatever.

Another aspect of Me-TV that reminds me of the old TV Land is its extensive use of in-house promos, many of them with a light touch. I didn't see anything as funny as the old "Cannon" or "Mannix" spots TV Land used to run, but maybe they'll come later. Me-TV does do a good job of putting itself over as a brand and establishing a sense of virtual community with viewers who are looking for a place to watch the old-school shows they love. Me-TV acts like it cars. Whether it really does or not is up in the air; after all, the hacking of programs is a real concern, and if/when the network takes on more ad dollars, we'll likely see a lot less of those promos.

I didn't see a lot of the channel, but I enjoyed an episode of "The Odd Couple" and a little bit of "My Three Sons" and "Family Affair." I didn't even see any of "Honeymooners" or "Bilko," two of my all-time favorites which lurk on the network schedule, but I still found enough to enjoy. These older shows have a place on TV, and it's good to see they're still around. They're not around in my area, but they're around somewhere.

I like that Me-TV organizes the occasional theme or tribute marathon, and I like that there is an assortment of both sitcoms and dramas. Two similar services don't offer this type of lineup right now. When Antenna isn't running movies, it has a heavy focus on sitcoms, and since its recent revamp, RTV is even more drama-oriented than before. I like a classic TV channel to give me some variety, and while game shows, variety shows, and talk shows would be nice, at least Me provides both sitcoms and dramas.

Do I wish Me-TV would dig deeper into the Paramount vaults for shows like "Our Miss Brooks," "The Defenders," or "Ben Casey?" Well, yes and no. Yes because it would be great to see those shows, even in edited form, no because...I don't get this channel. I'd rather see Netflix dig into those vaults and start streaming stuff that isn't on DVD already. But don't get me wrong, Me-TV is pretty good for what it is, and if I had it at Cultureshark Towers, I'd probably park myself in front of the tube and watch it way more often than I should. I just hope it doesn't just coast on its "We're not TV Land" advantage and slowly become...well, TV Land, the home of butchered, overplayed classics, incomprehensible scheduling, and off-putting new programs to offend the tastes and sensibilities of the whole family.

On the Road: Half-Assed Gourmet is grateful for Chik-Fil-A

I know some people have problems with Chik-Fil-A and its politics and its Christian orientation, but how can you not love its food? Not only that, whatever the corporate ethos is over there, it produces, almost without fail in my experience, well-run, efficient restaurants.

I was on the road last weekend, and, boy, did I appreciate the opportunity to stop at a Chik-Fil-A. See, I believe that this is a franchise that offers consistent quality and a near guarantee for a satisfying fast food experience, unlike a certain other famous franchise which is supposed to offer that consistency (isn't that the point of fast food) but has become more and more spotty in recent years and subject to the individual location. I'd name that other franchise, one which has given me some less than golden experiences lately, but I don't want to get too arch in this post.

The problem is, that other place is everywhere. Chik-Fil-A is not only not everywhere, but it isn't even open Sundays. I remain amazed that in 2011 a major fast food chain leaves as much money on the table as it does by maintaining its "family values" stances and not operating on the seventh day. Good for them. Bad for us if we happen to be traveling on a Sunday.

Here's what this recent visit to a Chik-Fil-A on the road provided that I have not always received when traveling with my family in recent years:

*Decent food, and the actual food that we ordered.
*A clean men's room with a spacious area to change a little one, including a changing table that doesn't threaten to crash to the ground if you open it from the wall and add to it the weight of a baby.
*A clean play area for my older child.
*Friendly and efficient service.

I mean, someone even offered to get us refills while we were sitting at our table, and though we didn't need a second helping of beverage, we took advantage of the offer to get a cup of water we could use to prepare a bottle. Let me tell you, when you are traveling with small children and the various bags and accessories needed to do so, any kind of tableside service that allows you to not get up one time is wonderful.

Needless to say, I walked out of that restaurant happy. The difference between the typical Chik-Fil-A and the typical, well, anything else, is vast enough that I'm tempted to rearrange my future travel schedules to ensure that if we stop for fast food, we have the option to go where we know we're gonna have a stress-free (well, as much as it can be--remember the "traveling with two small children" part) visit.

True Confessions: Design Destination

OK, OK, I watched something on HGTV again the other night, but in my defense, I was with my wife, and besides, the focus of the show was the great nation of Aruba, also known as the honeymoon spot of yours truly and Mrs. Shark.

The concept of "Design Destination" makes for one super-sweet deal for the couple spotlighted. A big-shot TV designer (star of other HGTV productions, I'm told) sends the homeowners on a wonderful vacation (figuratively, I'm thinking, though it would be amusing to see scenes of her haggling with hotel owners and securing airfares), and they send back pictures and videos of their trip for "inspiration" as she redoes a problem spot in their house.

So, wait a minute, the lucky guy and gal gets an all-expenses-paid (again, I'm assuming, but HGTV might have made them kick in for expenses) vacation AND a makeover of a crappy part of their pad (in this case, the whole basement)? Sign me up!

What made this half-hour an enjoyable viewing experience for me and not a recipe for a good, old heap of seething resentment at someone else's good fortune was that the couple stayed at the same hotel we did in fabulous Aruba. The pair did many of the same activities and saw many of the same sights we did, too, which either means we planned our honeymoon well or else Aruba is just a damn small island.

As for the "inspiration" and design aspect, yeah, I guess that made some sense, but some of the connections were more obvious than others. I was skeptical of how the spiky aloe plants of the Aruban landscape inspired some of the decor, but even a slob like myself could understand why the big shot designer bought a huge ostrich egg to put in the basement. Aww, she's reminding the wife of the terror she felt when the mean birds nearly decapitated her while swarming for the food she was giving them!

This must be one of the best shows to be on--ever. Even if the designer misinterprets the videos you send back and does something wacky with your house, so what? You're still getting a remodeling job, and given that this couple consisted of a schoolteacher and a cop, I'm pretty sure it was all on the network's dime.

So, yeah, I watched some HGTV this weekend. Don't give me a hard time. It's an Aruban thing. I deserve a few moments to think about relaxing in the hot sun while I...uh, sit on my couch and think about how hot it is today.

Do I look like a "Sparky"?

I love flying Southwest Airlines, and when you combine their general efficiency with their low prices (all relative to the other carriers), it's the clear number one air travel option for me. I feel sorry for people who aren't served by Southwest. We drive an hour-plus away just for the privilege. It's worth it.

This Christmas, the flight attendants on my family's journey were bursting with Christmas cheer. I enjoy flying around the holidays because the staff is usually in a good mood. Sometimes they're in a GREAT mood, hopefully because they're getting double time and a half and not because they discovered a secret cache of mini liquor bottles.

On our way up north, a friendly attendant asked us what beverage we wanted. My wife wanted a Dr. Pepper that we could share. The attendant asked why we didn't just get one each, and we replied we didn't want too many cups in case our baby tipped one over. Well, she told us, she could give us a lid on one. Great! Problem solved.

"So what do you want, Sparky?" she then asked me.

"Sparky"? What had I done to deserve that? I'm pretty sure that since Charles M. Schulz died, the number of grown men who LIKE being called that is countable on one finger. If a dude called me that, I'd be tempted to slug the blockhead.

But she said it with just the right amount of holiday warmth to make it not a smart-ass remark, but rather a friendly smart-ass remark.

When she returned later with the drinks, she gave my wife the makeshift sippy cup, then presented me my own beverage by announcing, "You don't get a lid, Sparky. You're a big boy, so we're gonna trust you not to spill it."

Still friendly, but it was getting ridiculous. Of course my wife loved it.

The attendant got one more "Sparky" in on the flight, a subtle one as she collected the trash. By that point I didn't even flinch, though part of me wondered...

Do I look like a Sparky? I thought that name was the exclusive moniker of the very young or the very old. In 40 years or so, I might be ready to set a spell on the porch, tilt my mesh cap, and hear the little ones call me "Grandpa Sparky," but as I write this today, it's just too soon, dagnab it.