D's Notebook

Tag: Indianapolis (Page 6 of 6)

Tuesday Randoms

November 9, 2004 /

One thing I’ve learned in the year plus that I’ve lived in Indianapolis is the local hang-up seems to be outsiders confusing our fair burg with a similarly named ville in the northern Midwest. People here can get quite testy when Indy and Minneapolis are confused. So I imagine hackles were up around the city when ABC used Jesse Ventura to do the opening for last night’s Colts-Vikings game. Sure, Minnesota was involved, but the game was here. Couldn’t they have used Babyface, a Letterman look-alike, or another of the nearly dozen national celebrities who are from here?
Great game, by the way. Is it just me or isn’t there a something kind of cool about the sport turning into the game many of us played growing up? You play for two hours, have no idea what the score is, and after trying to count up TDs someone finally says, “OK, next score wins.” That’s really what the NFL has become. To sum up, I hate parity, but I like games that go to the last possession. Go figure.
I’ve scheduled my GRE. December 8 is the big day.
I’m no fan of Wal-Mart, as I’ve subtly mentioned from time-to-time. I’ve not read any of the thick tomes on why the company is evil, but have read some shorter works on the subject. Is it just me, or are more and more Wal-Mart commercials focused on what a great company they are, how they give to the less fortunate, etc. rather than price-slashing ads? Perhaps all the negative publicity is gaining momentum, not to mention competition from Target and Costco.
Long-time readers of the blog will recall my visit to Pauley Pavilion on the campus of UCLA just about a year ago. In the last week, I’ve received two pieces of mail detailing ticket packages available for UCLA games this year. OK, I know being a college team in LA ain’t easy, between 1,000,000 things you can do other than go to a game and the notoriously front-running LA fans jumping off the bandwagon of a program that’s down a little. But do they really need to try to get people in Indiana who attended one exhibition game to buy tickets?
The Mighty University of Kansas Jayhawks are ranked #1 in the AP’s preseason college hoops poll. KU has not been ranked #1 to start the season since Wilt Chamberlain was strolling to classes in Strong Hall. How many women do you think Wilt had slept with by 1957, and how many do you think he slept with that year? Keep in mind, his rough estimate was 20,000 women by 1991.
Last three songs iTunes has spat out at me:
“Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” Elton John and Kiki Dee
“It’s Funky Enough” The D.O.C.
“She’s a Jar” Wilco

 

Weekend Roundup

July 7, 2004 /

Thanks to some Blogger downtime on Tuesday, an extra day off for the blog. It was an exciting holiday weekend in the Blog household, though. As mentioned Friday, the Johnson County Belfords paid us a visit. I’m afraid our fast paced lifestyle wore them down quickly, but they were troopers to stick to our rigorous schedule. Friday evening, we took them to the wife’s favorite pizza place, Bazbeaux’s in Broad Ripple. While dining under the stars, Pacers coach Rick Carlisle strode past us to pick up some carry out. It’s always a little frustrating to me to see former professional athletes who are not physically imposing. I imagine Carlisle had more talent than I could ever have hoped to posses, but his legs were near mirrors of the twigs I bump around town on. Very disappointing.
Saturday, we went to Bub’s, which is short for Big Ugly Burger, here in Carmel. If you eat the full pound (after cooking) burger, you get your picture on the wall. No one was man, or woman, enough to attempt more than the half pounder. But I was encouraged by the ease at which I threw that and about 2/3 of a basket of onion rings down. The next time I run a weekend race, I may have to give the true Big Ugly a shot. While dining, we were accosted by a waitress who is a student at K-State and no doubt spit in my Diet Coke, and later by a fellow KU alum that was sporting a Trolley Run shirt. Seeing my Kansas shirt, he came over and asked, “Do you go to KU?” I know I look young, but come on! Or perhaps my reputation for an extended academic career had preceded me. Anyway, I’ve now been to Bub’s three times, and on two occasions run into people from Kansas City. Weird.
That evening, we continued our run of eating out with a trip to Yat’s, a local Cajun eatery. I threw down a combo plate of red beans & sausage and their famous chili cheese etoufee. Excellent stuff! Following dinner, we retired to the Rathskeller for German styled beverages and conversation with friends. Rain squalls drove us in from the beer garden, but I enjoyed finally experiencing this downtown Indy landmark. First time I’ve been drunk in awhile, which is fun.
Sunday was the H family day to shine (it should be noted they accompanied us throughout the weekend). We used their backyard for lawn games including whiffle ball, whiffle golf, and bocce. John added to his reputation as a smoking savant by providing us with smoked chicken wings, followed by pork shoulder. I tried out a new recipe for barbecue baked beans which seemed to go over well.
Finally, on Monday, we ate lunch at Plump’s Last Shot, named after the player who Jimmy Chitwood’s character in Hoosiers was patterned after. Believe it or not, I had my first breaded pork tenderloin sandwich since moving to Indy. It was good, but I’m told there are places around town with much better offerings.
So it was an eventful weekend, from a food and beverage standpoint. I shudder to think what my total caloric intake was, though.

I consider myself to be in fairly good shape. I run 3-4 times a week, enough to go out and run a race in 8:30/mile pace. I’ve been going to the gym twice a week for months. Yet somehow my meager attempts to play whiffle ball just destroyed my hamstrings and glutes. I was still sore Tuesday morning and all we did was pitch and hit. There was no running involved.

We missed the cicada infestation of May-June but are finally getting some of the smaller broods in our woods. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: nothing says summer like the sound of cicadas on a warm evening.

I discovered last week if you squirt a squirrel on your bird feeder in just the right way with your Super Soaker, they scream. It’s fun. I nearly made one fall Tuesday. Some of the squirrels are smart and leap to safety as soon as I approach the door. But others wait far too long and get a good soaking, only to return in a couple minutes. Tuesday afternoon, after chasing a squirrel away, I watched some Carolina Chickadees float in to eat. Three Cardinals were eyeing me suspiciously from some low branches. And I could hear the House Finches I saw for the first time earlier in the day chatting in the leaves. While taking it all in, I looked up and saw the offending squirrel lying out on a branch, its front paws hanging below it, stomach resting on the limb, just staring at me. I blasted the hell out of that little varmint!

T-minus two days until Anchorman hits the big screens. I’ve already read one three star review on a reputable movie web site. I read somewhere last week that Will Ferrell has ten movies in some stage of production, including Anchorman. If Ferrell hadn’t called him an idiot in 2000, George W. Bush should really have thought about using the fact there are so many Ferrell movies as a sign the country is in better shape now than it was when he took office. That little tidbit just might get his approval ratings back up over 50% again. I recommend finding the Ron Burgundy audition for ESPN. I caught it on ESPNews last night. I’m sure it will be featured prominently on every ESPN program over the next three days.

Movies and Rednecks

June 24, 2004 /

I failed to mention that we watched two outstanding movies over the weekend: In America and Big Fish. I freely admit I cried like a baby at the end of In America. Hey, throw in a story line about a baby being born prematurely with problems and you’re going to get me every time now that I’m a prospective father. I thought it was a charming, heartwarming movie full of outstanding performances. I really liked Big Fish as well. It’s one of those movies that makes you smile throughout, not just because it’s amusing, but because it is so well crafted. The man became his stories, and thus he became immortal. It’s not an idea that’s going to change the world, but it is a wonderful way of looking at how those you’ve loved and lost have made a mark on you, and how you will hopefully make a mark on others over the course of your life.

I caught a rerun of Newlyweds the other night and had to laugh at Nick watching his Bearcats in the NCAA tournament. At one point, while they’re getting absolutely worked by Illinois, he says, “That guy is hitting every effing shot. Somebody guard him.” I believe I’ve shouted that exact same analysis at the TV many times, although I tend to put the effing in front of guard rather than shot. “Someone effing guard him!”

It appears as though I’ll get out of any possibility of doing a draft log tonight as we have dinner plans. Fine with me, the prospective trades floating around are far more interesting than any actual in-draft drama this year. The city of Indianapolis offered its collective yawn towards the process by running a front page story not on potential Pacers trade or draft targets, but on Greg Oden, the local high school junior-to-be who just dominated a national high school camp. Everything I read about the kid is great, from his game to his family to his attitude. Getting this much attention, hype, and expectations at the age of 16 can doom a kid for failure. I hope he has the makeup and support structure to get through the next two years unscathed. Not even LeBron had this much hype at the same stage. Can you imagine people guaranteeing you’ll be the number one pick in the draft before your sophomore season has even ended?

There was some good crime in Indy this week. A couple of punk kids were driving around holding people up for their wallets. One victim phoned 911 and directed police to the house the kids had holed up in. The kids refused to come out when the police arrived, so teargas was tossed in and eventually they gave themselves up. What made it all so good was a shot of the pickup the kids were driving around. In the back window was a large sticker, nearly covering the entire pane, which said “Redneck” and was colored to mirror the Confederate flag. Outstanding, and not very surprising. Next time some older white person says they don’t understand why young black kids like to parade around like gangstas, remind them of how many white kids run around town proudly calling themselves rednecks. I think we’re even and can just move on.

Life’s pleasures: sitting on the deck on a cool June evening, sipping a beer, listening to the soft buzz of summer insects that are just starting to make their presence felt.

Why is it pretty much every PJ Harvey song I’ve ever heard, I’ve liked a lot, but I’ve never had any desire to buy one of her albums?

Be watching this space later today for a truly interactive experience. I found an interesting list of questions that’s worth sharing and getting comments on.

 

Mmmmm, Breaded Pork

May 24, 2004 /

People ask me all the time about the differences between Kansas City and Indianapolis. I generally tick off the things that aren’t different first, then say, “The food is much better in Kansas City though”. People here are often surprised by that statement, not in defense of Indy, but because they don’t know about the tradition of food in Kansas City. As I’ve learned, it’s not really a matter of there being no good locally owned restaurants here. There are plenty of good local places tucked between the PF Chang’s, Chili’s, Outbacks, etc. It’s more a case of there being no place like Southwest Boulevard, where you have your choice of dozens of Mexican restaurants to chose from if you’re in the mood for something spicy. It’s a matter of the racial divide being more rigid here, and people in the suburbs are not as willing to drive into the hood to eat barbecue as Kansas Citians are. Saturday, when we were out with some friends driving downtown, we passed a couple down home looking barbecue places. “Wow, I should check those out sometime.” The reaction I got was a cross between absolute disbelief and wondering if I was just being funny. But the biggest difference is that there’s no nationally known “Indy food”. Tell someone you’re from Kansas City, and chances are, even if they’ve never been there, they know about Kansas City barbecue. They may not know about the Boulevard or the huge number of nationally recognized steak houses, but they’ve heard about Kansas City barbecue.
In fact, Indianapolis does have a signature food item, the pork tenderloin sandwich. It’s appropriately the most popular food item during race weekends at the Speedway. I’ve yet to have a tenderloin since moving here, so I clearly need to get on that. The two articles below from today’s Indy Star may make your stomach rumble, so you might want to read after lunch.

Yum Yum
Local Style

 

Warm The Hell Up

May 3, 2004 /

First, it’s far too cold for May 3. I hate that one last cold snap that just ruins some weekend in the spring. Not sure how cold it actually got here last night, but we flipped the heat on at 5:00 yesterday afternoon. So much for thinking the gas bills wouldn’t be something we had to worry about until November.

Friday night, we watched a birthing video. I can’t claim I learned much because I was busy ridiculing the fashion of the people in the video, which was filmed in 1987. One mom clearly put on mascara before she started 18 hours of labor. In the post-birth scenes, she had bright red hair that scrapped the ceiling and hung like a mullet around her shoulders. Plus, it was clearly filmed at some “alternative” birthing center as the delivering moms were doing all kinds of crazy things. When a pediatrician who works with kids straight out of the womb says, “What the hell are they doing?!?!” I think it’s safe to assume the video didn’t share the experience we’re going to go through.

We did some shopping over the weekend. S. made the observation that when we were in stores like Banana Republic, J Crew, etc. the hired help doesn’t ask her if she needs any help any more. They just smile and ask her how she’s doing. A pretty clear sign she’s obviously pregnant now.

Saturday we went to the Circle Center Mall in downtown Indy. We stopped in for dinner at PF Chang’s and settled at the bar for the obligatory 45 minute wait. Looking around, there were numerous tables set for rather large groups. Around 6:00, groups of fancily dressed teenagers began pouring in. Yep, it was a prom night. I understand kids aren’t always flush with money on prom night, especially after buying a dress/renting a tux, arranging for transportation, paying some 25 year old a 30% tax to have him buy you three cases of the cheapest beer possible. But PF Chang’s? We went to Plaza III for our prom night dinner. I love the Chang’s, and I know it’s not exactly cheap, but it seems pretty informal for something as special as prom. I imagine these are the same people who get engaged at sporting events.

Coral was clearly a popular color in prom dresses this year. And it’s always funny to watch 16 year old girls try to walk in formal dresses and heels. Can I also say the way some of these girls look is completely ridiculous? No daughter of mine is leaving the house looking like that!

After dinner, we walked around the mall, which like most malls in the US is a big cruising ground for teenagers on weekend nights. So in addition to all the promsters, the mall was loaded with regular kids out for a cruise. I decided the retro jersey craze has gotten completely out of control. I saw jerseys for players I barely knew, and I’m sure 15 year olds had no clue who they were. I think I liked it better when you saw 1000 Deion Sanders and Michael Jordan jerseys. Not to mention jerseys that went for $75 when we were in college now run for $275. Where are these kids getting this kind of money for a 1971 Dallas Chaparrals Ron Boone jersey?

The Royals are totally disheartening. Even when they play well, they can’t get a win. I fear Carlos Beltran was looking at condos in Manhattan this weekend. The five year window that began with Sweeney, Beltran, Febles, etc. coming up is sliding shut.

It was criminal that I didn’t include Echo and the Bunnymen’s “Lips Like Sugar” in my top 20 songs of the 80s list I put together back in ’99. Funny how songs that are so old and you barely knew can rocket to the top of your list years later.

We’re in the market for a good camcorder. Sony seems to be the brand of choice among other recent/prospective parents I’ve talked to. Any other recommendations?

Book of the weekend: John Lydon’s Rotten: No Irish, No Blacks, No Dogs. It’s the memoir of Lydon’s youth and his time as lead singer for the Sex Pistols. An interesting read for anyone that’s into music history. I tend to think many of his criticisms of Joe Strummer and the Clash were based on jealousy rather than legitimate critiques, but it was still worth the read to get Lydon’s perspective on things. He has some very interesting views on the state of the world at the time he wrote the book (1994). What I enjoyed most was the title, which was taken from the postings at many bars, hotels, and houses for rent in England back in the day. Lydon, who was Irish by ethnicity by English by birth, rails on the class system of England throughout the book. What a beautiful statement on the ridiculous nature of racism. Not only are you lesser if you happen to be from Ireland or Africa (or your parents are) but you’re no better than a dog. God Save the Queen!

 

Snow Day

January 29, 2004 /

We were having a great winter, all things considered, until last Sunday. Only one small snowstorm, no super cold weather, no ice. Right now, it’s snowing for the fourth time this week and we’re supposed to get sub-zero temps tonight. Working from home kind of eliminates the snow day option, unfortunately. It doesn’t stop my hands from turning into blocks of ice after about 3:00 when the shade covers my side of the house, though. I must say, our neighborhood looks very nice covered in a layer of the white stuff. Our subdivision decided rather than street lights, each home would have a small lamp in the yard for nighttime lighting. On a normal night, it keeps it very dark: almost too dark. But for the past week, with snow covering everything, the nights have a warm glow from the lights reflecting off the ice. It feels like a Swiss chalet. OK, that’s stretching things. Almost makes winter tolerable.

People I hate: People who drive pickups fast in the snow, especially small pickups. Listen, you’ve got no weight in the back and the roads are slick. There’s no reason to go 50 in a 35. I have four-wheel drive but still try to keep it under the speed limit when you’ve got four inches to plow through. Slow it down, Jethro.

You may recall my elaborate plans for wooing Carmel High School’s Josh McRoberts to attend KU that were ruined when he committed to Duke. Well, McRoberts spent the first month of the season on the bench while a back injury healed. He finally returned to action a couple weeks ago. Although I didn’t go to his first game back, I did watch the Carmel High School TV station’s coverage of the event. The coverage is great on a normal night. A single, shaky camera mounted among the bleachers. A super staticy video feed. And a couple high school kids in dress shirts and ties commenting on the game. Yes, I’m intensely jealous I didn’t have this kind of opportunity 15 years ago. Anyway, before the pregame introductions, the announcing team was rightly talking up the event. The opposing team was introduced, followed by the first four CHS players. Just before McRoberts’ name was called, one announcer excitedly said, “Here he comes! Here he comes!” McRoberts is introduced to a huge roar from the completely full gym. Once the applause dies down, the announcer shared his assessment; “I’ve got chills up and down my spine!” I love this kid. He perfectly summed up what it’s like to have a superstar on a high school team. I remember trekking all over KC in the winters of 1988 and 1989 to watch any and every player who was Division One material. I did again later with Tyronn Lue, Derek Hood, and, of course, the Rush brothers. There’s an innocence that comes with being a high school star. Maybe it’s the endless reservoir of opportunity in front of them. Most importantly, there’s a forgiveness factor that disappears the moment they put a college jersey on for the first time. The stars in high school are larger than life, yet regular kids too.

Speaking of high school stars, a local channel shows a slightly higher quality game of the week each Friday night. Last week, #1 Lawrence North faced #2 North Central. Two proud schools (home to Eric Montross and Jason Gardner respectively) in a key clash before district play begins. North Central features top 50 senior AJ Ratliff, who’s signed to attend IU next year. Lawrence North features super sophomore Greg Oden, who checks in at 7’ and already has a better body than KU’s David Padgett (not saying much, I realize, but the kid is 15!). Ratliff was silky smooth, and I had no idea he had 22 points by the third quarter. Maybe it’s because LN was just destroying them. Oden, who reminds me of a young Patrick Ewing, was simply amazing on offense. He absolutely attacks the rim, dunking ferociously over and over. On defense, he’s not quite as advanced. He may take it easy to avoid fouls, but he really should be more intimidating than he looked Friday. There’s already talk of him going straight to the NBA in two years. It’s scary how good he’s going to be as he gets older.

I didn’t follow the Democratic presidential candidate process much until about two weeks ago. Is there a more uncomfortable look than the look on the face of someone who’s a political giant, but in the first or second contest, is forced to drop out? Dick Gephardt had that look in Iowa. There’s nothing like spending a lifetime fighting for a particular set of values, then having a huge percentage of the voting population tell you they don’t care about that view. I’ve read about candidates who lose in the general feeling this overwhelming sense of loss and depression when the election is over. And these are people who got 40 million votes. Imagine just getting 8,000. Don’t you always go to the “We fought the good fight” card at that point?

I keep hearing this buzz that Rachel Ray is the new “it” girl on the Food Network. What are these people smoking? Giada De Laurentiis is clearly the best thing about the Food Network. In a simpler time, you’d hear a lot more about her from me. To the point where some of you would probably worry about me. In these more complicated times, I’m forced to refer to her as “the really skinny girl on the Food Network”. Check out Everyday Italian sometime and judge for yourself. I’m required to not say anything else, lest I get smacked. She doesn’t read, but she knows.

 

Bummed

November 5, 2003 /

And so it begins: real life in Indianapolis. It was one thing to miss half of the best Royals season in a decade. The KU-MU football game. Or to not move my clocks a week ago. But not having access to a KU basketball game is a whole other thing. KU beat the EA Sports All Stars last night in a game that was not included in the ESPN Full Court package. You think I’m joking when I say it was agreed upon shortly after S. and I got engaged that we would always take whatever measures needed to get KU games in Indiana. I most definitely was not joking. I think I got that on paper before we called anyone with our news. Not that it would have mattered if it had been included; my cable company has yet to determine if they’ll offer Full Court this year. Yahoo’s audio service didn’t carry the radio feed either.

Fortunately, I found someone who was pointing his web cam at his TV so those of us in the outlying regions could watch. Brutal. Even with only ten people plugged in, the bandwidth got sucked up, the audio disappeared, and the video was muddled and choppy. It was tough enough to try to discern Jeff Graves from Moulaye Niang, let alone tell if the ball went through the hoop or attempt to read the score. Thus, and E-Bro is smiling at this, I spent the night on the couch, alternately reading Naked by David Sedaris and watching the Denver Nuggets score only seven points in 12 minutes against the Pacers. Fortunately, it was only an exhibition game, so the most exciting things were seeing the new uniforms and the freshmen. However, I have a list of satellite operators already in case I need to make the jump before November 21, when the real games start. This madness must end!

D’s Notes

October 29, 2003 /

Day four of “Eastern Standard Time”. I fell asleep before kick-off Monday night, waking when it was already 10-0 Miami. I’m struggling with the concept of being an hour ahead of most of my coworkers (why aren’t they in the office at 6:30 in KC when I turn the laptop on?). Also, finishing my workday around 5:00 local time and still getting calls for an hour is odd. I’m sure my West Coast clients appreciate the voice mails I leave them at 5:00 AM their time. The rest of the world changes their clocks. In Indiana, you have to change your life.

Anyone catch the NBC Nightly News last night? Some outstanding publicity for the state of Kansas. Our favorite wacko minister from Topeka (name purposely not used here, but we’ll call him FP. E-mail me if you don’t know whom I’m referring to.) and his followers are back in Casper, WY trying to place a monument in a public park saying that Matthew Shepard “entered hell” the day he died. “We’re not preaching human hate, we’re preaching God’s hate. And God hates those who live lives of sin,” a group member said. Casper is having trouble stopping them because, get this, they have a monument to the Ten Commandments in the same park. City lawyers say allowing that to stay put opens the doors to anyone else who wants to put a monument in the park. Ironic, isn’t it? You might think to yourself, “Let’s see how Mr. First Amendment feels about this one.” I think FP and his phollowers are all mentally ill, harboring more issues than we can ever imagine, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t spew their hatred. In fact, in this case, I think it’s made a lot of people who wouldn’t normally be protective of a gay man’s legacy realize that it deserves preservation. Sometimes it takes people like FP, the Klan, and Louis Farrakhan to get the general public to understand that a fringe issue really isn’t that fringe. I don’t feel as strongly about religious monuments in parks, etc. as opposed to court rooms (Come on, it’s a park. Your kid can still run around and play if the Ten Commandments are posted and you’re an Atheist. Get over yourself.) but this is exactly the can of worms I was talking about. You can’t selectively open the door to certain religious views and keep others out. FP may be living in a world that hasn’t evolved in thousands of year, but he’s still sharing what he believes to be his religious truth. The most horrible thing is Shepard’s family has to relive his death again through all this.

Tom Brokaw’s reaction to the report was classic. Leading into a commercial, Tom said, “We’ll be back in a moment,” then let out a long, heavy sigh. Fair and balanced indeed!

The Shaq-Kobe drama is absolutely awesome! I’m loving every minute of it. I’m not totally convinced it’s all real. I have a hard time believing Phil Jackson would let it get to this point if it was 100% true. Two of the most media savvy players in the game today, a big off-court distraction, and I’m supposed to believe they aren’t somehow playing us? Fake or not, it’s been fantastic to read/watch. Two NBA superstars, and teammates no less, ripping each other up and down in the media. This is how people get killed in the hip-hop world (Another reason I’m not convinced it’s real. They sat next to each other on the bench last night.). In a time when loyalty is to contract and agent rather than team and city, when pre- and post-game get-togethers by opponents are commonplace, and where everyone tries to avoid bulletin board material, these exchanges are a throwback to the glory days of the 1970s when everyone hated everyone else. On TNT’s always-brilliant studio show last night, Charles Barkley looked at his cohosts and said, “If any of you all ever call me fat, I’m kicking all your asses.” I want to see Shaq go after Kobe. Maybe toss him around the gym a little. Exclusive footage by a local reporter that just happened to still be in what was supposed to be a closed workout. Grainy, out-of-focus footage of Kobe slamming into some chairs as Karl Malone attempts to stop the Diesel from closing in to finish the job. Of course, we’ll never actually see a punch or any other contact, so we’ll never know what really happened. This needs to happen, and sooner rather than later.

Boo to everyone who gave Kobe standing ovations during the preseason. Innocent until proven guilty, yes. But there was nothing good that has come out of the early testimony, even if we ultimately learn it was a consensual encounter. I don’t expect much out of anyone in the public eye, certainly not fidelity. But Kobe has held himself up to be different, better, more committed than others his entire career. He’s benefited greatly from that image. I don’t think you applaud the man for being just like everyone else. Worse than everyone else, really. I wonder how many of the people that applauded him had their kids next to them but were whining about, “What will I tell my kids?” during the Clinton impeachment. I finally have a tangible reason to dislike Kobe. I was never sure why I didn’t like him, but now I am.

D’s Notes

August 25, 2003 /

It was a big weekend here in Indy. First, it was absolutely gorgeous both days. 80 Saturday, 85 yesterday. Low humidity. Nary a cloud in the sky. Second, there were many, many things going on downtown. There was the Taste of Indiana, which we took in yesterday. A local version of Taste of Chicago on a much smaller scale, we were able to sample some pretty good beef brisket (no where near the league of Smokin’ Jim Epps, of course), some mediocre Mongolian food, and some extremely tasty ice cream. All while staring at the ugly edifice known as the NCAA Hall of Champions. Really, it’s an unattractive building on the outside. I’m not just saying that out of continuing bitterness for my employment experiences with them or their jilting of KC. We didn’t go in, basically because we were feeling cheap and didn’t want to pay the admission charge. Props to them for having Final Four shirts available outside, though.

As part of the Taste of Indiana, a duck race was held in the canal (an extension of the canal that was outside our wedding building). I love rubber ducks. Too much Sesame Street when I was a kid probably, or maybe along with Jayhawks and penguins, I have some kind of weird bird fetish. Regardless, I was pretty fired up to see thousands of rubber ducks floating in the water, more so than many of the thousands of toddlers that were in attendance. Little bastards couldn’t stay focused on the ducks. I’m sad to say that no one in Indianapolis knows how to put on a proper duck race. After 20 minutes of watching them slowly pour the ducks into the water, and then just let them sit there, and well after most three year olds had lost interest, I bitterly turned my back on the poor ducks and walked away. I admit I had to wipe tears from my eyes. A five-year-old standing by me, with a bright yellow duck call hanging around his neck summed things up better than I ever could, “These ducks suck.”

That was only half the excitement in town, though. Adjacent to the ToI, there was a massive Harley Davidson convention. Thousands of Harleys parked next to each other, with thousands of people admiring them. Harley admirers fascinate me. They park all their bikes next to each other, then just walk and stare. Seems weird to me. This was one of many regional shows that are leading up to next week’s 100th anniversary celebration in Milwaukee. From the Indy Star, get a load of who’s performing in Milwaukee:
Kansas, .38 Special, Peter Frampton, Poison, the Doobie Brothers, Joan Jett, Eddie Money, Billy Idol, REO Speedwagon, Styx, and Steppenwolf, among others. I don’t really know what to say about that, but I would love to be in Milwaukee just for the concerts to take notes while people watching.

The really big event of the weekend was the National Socialist Movement’s White Unity Rally downtown. Don’t think I didn’t get excited when I heard racists were coming all the way from Minnesota to protest in our fair city! Sadly, the event was largely a bust, with only 50 members of the group speaking to about 25 supporters, all while being heckled by 75 protesters. The Indy police took great pains to keep the differing sides apart, which lead to a pro-diversity rally a few blocks away. According to the Star, there were about 800 people at the pro-diversity gathering, causing organizers to talk about having an annual event.

The Nazi event was prompted by the rise in the Hispanic population in Indiana over the past few years. Nazi sympathizers tore a Mexican flag, spit on it, and then threw it to the ground. Yeah, that will show them! Reading that, I wished I could have played the role of Fletch and stood behind them, “Hey, let’s get the Guatemalans and Hondurans too! El Salvadorians are next!” That really would have thrown them off, I bet. (One wonders how many of those people would absolutely freak if you treated an American flag the same way.) The leader of the event said that the Spanish-speaking horde is attempting to force its language and culture on America. I never realized that margaritas and salsa were tools of the Spanish speaking vanguard that’s over-running this great nation. Given the fact Kansas City has much better Mexican food than Indianapolis, I fear for the future of my friends back there. It may be too late to save you! From this day forward, I shall order my sizzling chicken and vegetable strips under the name “fuh-jee-tas” and ask for extra “tor-till-yas” so I’m not party to this desecration of our fair country.

Some other observations:
I love Nazis for lots of reasons. First, I’m a huge proponent of freedom of speech. I think even racist, ignorant, lowlifes are protected by the Constitution so long as they stop short of calling for physical violence towards specific targets. There’s pretty much no one in our society as universally disdained as Nazis, so I think they’re the perfect example for why freedom of speech is a great thing. Second, by them sharing their repulsive views in public, it helps us realize who the real enemy is. All too often, especially in economically troubled times, it becomes easy to blame those that are different for the ills of society. Nazis remind us that’s not the case. It can be the people who look exactly like us who are the bigger problem. Finally, Nazis are just funny. Sadly, there are far too many racially motivated acts of violence in this country each year. But the majority of modern Nazis are so frustrated by their own inadequacies that they need to parade around in military regalia and present an image of anger in an attempt to regain their identity. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing funnier than a white man blaming all his troubles on people of color while standing behind the legacy of Adolph Hitler. There’s a ton of irony there these people miss.

The leader of the event’s last name is Schoep. I bet whenever his family came over, the first generation was never oppressed because it took them awhile to pick up the language, they ate odd foods, or they kept to themselves in a small community of people from their homeland. Lord knows we’ve never persecuted the Irish, the Italians, the Germans, the Catholics, the Jews, and any other ethno-religious group from Europe because they were different when they arrived.

Activists of the left crack me up too. Also in the Star was a story about how several groups that took part in the pro-diversity rally were arguing about whether they should continue the event in the future, and what the best way to do so would be. Some of these people were pissed at each other. People, the opponent is ten blocks away. Let’s not lose focus here.

We were diverted several times by roadblocks as we attempted to get to the ToI. There were far more police standing around doing nothing than protesters. Our tax dollars at work!

I wonder what the bill was for the TV station that kept their helicopter hovering about all the activity for hours was. Probably not worth the pictures they got.

I did notice it’s harder and harder to order a grande decaf mocha at Starbucks without using the remnants of Spanish I still have. Maybe these Nazis are onto something…

Really, I could write about the Nazis all day. It’s fun stuff, and makes me feel like no matter what my flaws are, I’ve got things pretty together. I’m at page three in Word, so time to cut the notes off for now.

Living In Indy

July 2, 2003 /

Some early things I’ve noticed while living in spacious Carmel, IN.

People are crazy friendly here. I’m sure there are rude people somewhere, but I’ve yet to run across one. Of course, after the a-holes at the moving and cable companies we had to deal with in our first week of residence, pretty much anyone who does their job seems agreeable to you.

The time is completely screwed up. You know the old joke: Indiana: a time zone for every life style. (Of course, that’s not accurate since northwest Indiana moves their clocks with Chicago, and portions of southern Indiana change their clocks with Kentucky and/or Ohio. But for the masses throughout Indiana, they’ve never had to learn that tricky memory device, spring forward, fall back.) I’m still not sure why they don’t change here. It’s not like Arizona, where it’s 182 in the summer and that extra hour of dark at night is a blessing. All I know is the sun comes up at 5:15 in the morning, and it makes it damn near impossible to sleep in. We didn’t have blinds or drapes in our bedroom until last week and at exactly 6:02 AM, these retina-burning rays of sun hit me. It was impossible to avoid them. Even putting two pillows over my head didn’t work. Then the sun goes down at 8:15. Very odd for someone who spent most of his summers growing up in Western Kansas where the sun doesn’t set until almost 10:00.

Indianapolis TV stations operate on the East Coast prime time schedule. That means Friends is on at 8:00. ER at 10:00. Local news at 11:00. Tough to adjust to, but when I lived in California I operated under that schedule, so I can adjust. What’s weird is the fact the when the rest of the country moves their clocks, Indiana suddenly becomes the last place in the world to know about anything that’s not live. Example: in May, for the big Friends finale, the show aired at 8:00 Indianapolis time. Which is 9:00 in New York, so the show had been on an hour earlier. But, since prime time starts at 7:00 in the Central time zone, people in Kansas City had already seen the episode as well. But then during the winter, we’re watching shows at the same time as people in both New York and Kansas City. Makes sense, no? So if you really want to mess with me, find a show I’m following religiously, wait for the cliff hanger in May, then call me and ruin it before I get a chance to watch. Not the end of the world, I know, but something that I can harp on for awhile.

One final note on time in Indiana. We got a flyer from our state representative yesterday. You know those fluff pieces they mail to everyone in their district to try to prove they’ve accomplished something and deserve your vote next time around? Our state rep devoted a full third of his accomplishment page to blasting the other members of the house who kept Daylight Savings Time from passing in this year’s session. He even said their heads were in the sand, which I kind of liked. He pretty much seemed to be a party-line tool from what else he wrote, but if he comes trolling through our neighborhood for votes, I may corner him and exact some promises about DST in return for my vote. I’m telling you, my way to the top in this state is getting DST passed, then starting a company that consults with both companies and private citizens on how to turn their clocks forward and back.

Other than that, life is good. Is everyone really going to be here in just over a week?

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