The Road Trip, part 2

Day 1 -- Austin to Shamrock (440 miles)

The worst part of any road trip is always getting out of Austin. But we managed.

Alas, we did not hit the road until just before noon, costing us valuable travel time, but onward we went, Google maps at the ready (GPS being something I have as yet resisted). I had had trouble sleeping in the wee hours of the night -- unfounded concern about this road trip -- and so was a bit fuzzy for the first stretch, which was both hot and on the twisty lanes of Texas Hill Country. A jug of ice water and a selection of road food snacks sustained us well. We stopped at some nondescript joint for a late lunch, which left me greatly refreshed. We pushed on.

In the town of Coleman, suddenly a train appeared to our left. I pointed it out to the kids, who enjoy watching trains (we live near a crossing and often get caught waiting for one, which is never too bad, rather fun actually). The train was making good speed, on a long, flat run. Suddenly our road curved to the left and up onto a bridge -- we passed over the train! Cool. And then we were traveling with the train on our right -- and catching up the locomotives! Over the in-car chatter, I barely heard the horns, and so opened the passenger side windows for fullest effect. WHHUUURRRRRRMMMMMMM!!! We were now racing the train head to head -- double cool!

And then the road went back over the train again! Our hardy little Civic zoomed up the arc of the bridge just as the engines were passing under! A tie! Triple cool!

Our paths then diverged a bit, and we left the train behind. Though soon the tracks and our route went back to a closely paralleled journey straight to Abilene, mere yards apart, we didn't see the train again.

Past Abilene, and with Hill Country long behind us, the Texas landscape went very flat, Big Sky country, and as we headed north more scrub and trees were evident. Miles would go by without other traffic. Empty but not desolate. The day's peak heat passed over, and the sun began setting. We made a few short stops to stretch, refresh, and once to fuel the car, but there's just not much else to see along this stretch. The scenery is captivating both in natural beauty and a "look how much there is" way.

We made one last road stop in Childress, herded the kids into the restrooms. The gas station/store catered to trucks, and there were about a dozen parked at the far edge of the lot, most rumbling away in that massive diesel engine way. I walked Amie and Carson over there just to take a look, see them up close. And we found a penny, always a treat.

We pushed on. The sun set. And finally, just before 9:00, we pulled in to Shamrock, straight up the main drag from the south.

Why Shamrock? It is a charming enough little town, and like many other little old Texas towns we had passed through, shows the remains of many brighter, more prosperous days (this once was oil country; we had passed many field pumps, only one of which we could tell was in operation). There is a particular building here, known in days past as the U-Drop Inn, right on the ancient mother road, US Route 66. And in 2006, Pixar featured it in the animated town of Radiator Springs as Ramone's Paint Shop in the delightful movie Cars -- which our son Carson adores.

There we were, motoring through Shamrock, looking for a hotel for the night, and suddenly there it was, ablaze in green and red neon. Ramone's. (I knew it was coming, but not certain where, nor that it would be lit up.) If Route 66 used to be adorned with places like this, it really must have been something.

The U-Drop Inn building (also known as Tower Conoco or the Tower Building) in Shamrock, Texas, lit up at night.

There's a McDonald's just past the U-Drop Inn building, which is never my preferred stop but is a known quantity, so we pulled in for a modest dinner -- the kids got meals with toys, naturally, but I had just a chicken sandwich and coffee and Val made do with just the coffee. (Food from McDonald's or any restaurant of its class works best when one aims low and expects little. The chicken sandwich was actually pretty good.) The toys, silly things that they are, interested the kids (wired from a long day in the car, even well-equipped) more than the food did.

There is a hotel adjacent to the U-Drop Inn, just across the street; we checked in. A brief rest, and we all went outside to look at Ramone's, armed with camera and video. Carson and Amalie both were energetic -- they needed to blow off kid steam -- and a bit tense. This was, at least, the longest single driving day they'll have to endure -- nine hours, stops included.

Amalie and Carson celebrate old U.S. Route 66.

I surprised Val and myself in that, after our lunch break, I felt refreshed, really great. I handled the entire drive, though when at last we stopped I was stiff. To be expected; not enough sleep, very long day of driving. We've got about another 400 miles ahead of us today as well, but the first 100 are a straight shot on Interstate 40 (to Amarillo), and we'll get an earlier start. Plus I slept like a log, so I'm ready.

Onward!

The Road Trip, part 1

Val has just started her four week sabbatical -- the last of these generous breaks, as company policy has changed -- and we're taking advantage of it, hitting the road before Amalie's school year starts in late August.

Day 0 -- Preparation

Today Val went on one of her cleaning binges, while I plowed through dishes and laundry and all the usual. She emptied out the car, vacuumed it, washed it late at night at our nearby do-it-yourself automat. To add to the splashy fun, she took the kids, who had great fun putting in all the quarters.

The dear wife also lugged down from the attic a car roof rack I didn't even remember us having. It fit her old car, a Mitsubishi Mirage, apparently purchased back in the days when biking or kayaking were intended to be routine activities. Off to the rack dealer, where new fittings for a Honda Civic were acquired, and when she came back the rack was mounted (and, in a pinch, can be quickly modified to haul bikes or kayaks, should the need arise). Along with a new roof duffle, we had more cargo space than ever before.

The USS Civic, fully loaded with roof rack and back window sunscreens (blankets for curtains).

Growing up -- teeth edition

Amalie's two top center incisors had been growing looser for several days, maybe more than a week. She didn't tell us when they first got wiggly. When we had corn on the cob recently, I had to trim the corn off for her. So when last Friday rolled around, she showed me how they had progressed -- both very loose, wobbly. I told her that it was likely neither tooth would still be in her mouth by Monday.

She got upset. I tried to reassure her that it was just a part of growing up, but that didn't help at all. But, there was nothing for it.

On Saturday, one tooth popped out, unfortunately with a lot of blood. She polka-dotted a paper towel. She was a bit distressed but, now that it was over, she perked up a bit.

On Sunday, the other fell out, and this time she was downright ebullient about it. Two teeth! Out! And she's not even thinking about the Tooth Fairy -- they're saved in a little Tupperware container.

First grade starts in just under a month, and many of the children will be in a similar state. Along with her bottom tooth which is being quite pokey-slow to grow in, her smile for now looks like this:



I love this girl, my young lady.

Deciding Where Home (Field) Will Be

For a variety of reasons, some of which will be touched on below, in 2003 Major League Baseball decided to assign home field in the World Series -- Games 1, 2, 6*, and 7* (* if necessary) -- to the team whose league won that season's All-Star Game. Prior to this, MLB had simply switched leagues each year (2002 had been an AL year, 2001 an NL year, etc...) for decades, which worked just fine. This newer method is, I think, no better or worse than the predecessor, but it riles up a lot of fans and, as fans, they then make a lot of noise about it.

Someone on a message forum I frequent asked me if I liked this method, or would prefer a different approach, suggesting that better season W-L record between the two league champions should be the method of choice. I replied, and it ended up a lot longer than I thought, enough so that it would make a good blog post. So here it is, with a cold start talking briefly about the National Football League and how it does not use home fields for its climactic game, the Super Bowl (not even once by sheer luck).

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The NFL puts the Super Bowl at a neutral site which is always either warm-weather or cold-weather but indoors -- because while real football fans (of which, I am not one) will put up with sitting through a blizzard (shirt off, beer held high, team colors painted on), the corporate sponsors who show up for this one game only want none of that. The SB isn't for the fans anyway, and the NFL knows it.

I do not give a damn about how World Series homefield is decided. Simply alternating leagues each season worked fine for decades. The worst thing Selig did was not implementing the "ASG decides" method -- it was merely raising homefield as an issue, which it was NOT. The problem is artificial, so the solution is meaningless. (But it did get fans' attention, so that keeps it in the spotlight, which is a positive -- free hype.)

Neutral site is simply an awful idea for baseball. (The SB benefits from being one day, one game, and having a full week or two before with zero games -- allows great flexibility, and with all the events the NFL stuffs in that window, there is a need to KNOW the location beforehand.)

I don't like "best record" because, even with the interleague virus thriving 12 seasons on, the leagues are MOSTLY hermetic -- and the unbalanced schedule (neither good nor bad, simply there) means that a division with more than one really good (or really bad) team can beat itself up and have an 85-win champion, whereas one good team in a weak division can pummel its way to 100 wins. Put these in opposite leagues, sift their way through the first two rounds, and what teams show up for the World Series tells us, well, nothing. I don't like the term, but "strength of schedule" is ignored -- or worse, if incorporated, makes the homefield assignment method that much more needlessly complex. It works, one supposes, in the NHL and NBA because those teams intermix conferences heavily during the season, and the interminable playoff tournament ensures that no quick-lucky playoff team makes it to the finals (and as noted, homefield is a non-issue in the NFL for the last game). (As an aside, in general I don't care what the lesser sports do, and dislike citing them as obvious alternative solutions. Baseball should answer its own questions in whatever manner works best for its own house. The pro leagues operate similarly in big ways but the differences become important down in the details.)

Ah! But the AL and NL DO interact during the season, for a longer and truer test than just the ASG. We have interleague play, Selig loves it (its his baby), why not use it? Back in 2003, when the "ASG decides" proposal was first floated, some sportswriter (and I dearly wish I could remember whom, he deserves credit) suggested a three-point system, where two points decides WS homefield:

The leagues would earn one point for:
1. winning the All-Star Game;
2. winning the season interleague series (full leagues, not just the two champion teams);
3. best record between the two league champions.

I like this. It keeps Seligula's idea in play, which is not a bad thing, just clunky (like so many of his initiatives) and overrated. It adds "meaning" to the season's interleague competition (and gives a much clearer concept of which league really IS stronger) -- since we are stuck with it, let's have interleague do a bit more heavy lifting. And it puts the "best record" thing in there to mollify (however briefly) the hotheads who think that is the One True Method (which it is not, for baseball, but worth adding just for the measure of peace and quiet it would bring). (#3 is actually a bit twiggy, if an LCS goes seven and the playing teams bracket the other league champion, that leaves mere days lead time. Perhaps cumulative record of the four playoff teams per league, which then resolves the question in late September, end of the season at latest.)

I like this -- or at least find it inoffensive. It has something for most fans, it adds a bit of drama (could be decided by July, might not be decided until October), also adds a bit of fun, is a tiny bit more complex while staying far removed from being complicated (win two points of three -- could hardly be simpler). People will hate it, but it has something to hate for everyone, so it would be accepted, grudgingly, as tolerable.

Three-point system. If we have to impose some sort of Grand Solution upon World Series homefielding, let's do this.

Remember, WS homefield was NEVER AN ISSUE before Selig made it one. It was quite typical for him: see a problem (players not taking the ASG "seriously", managers not prioritizing winning first), define it poorly, and then apply a completely wrong solution. The players don't much like this "ASG decides" factor.

Realize why the players stopped taking the ASG seriously. The AL and NL once were distinct and had league identities. That is now all but gone, largely by Selig's hand. Umpires unified, league presidencies abolished, interleague play. Add to this how much MLB uses the ASG for marketing (most crass example: Nomo starting in 1995 as Maddux was suddenly "injured". Purely on merit Maddux deserved the start, but Nomo was the hot item on the world scene). Without league identity, league pride, the players are out there for show and only their individual competitive spirit to inspire them. And often, it showed -- consider Walker batting righty against Johnson. MLB reduced the ASG to a pony show -- marketing over a quality competition -- and some of the players caught on and treated it in kind. Selig was getting desperate, so after that 2002 muck-up, he went with this "ASG decides" theme as a way of getting the ASG back in the saddle. It was clumsy, it was ham-handed, no one likes it -- classic Selig, isn't it?

We're stuck with it, and I really don't care about it. Don't love it, don't hate it -- it simply IS NOT THAT DAMN IMPORTANT.

But I would enjoy the three-point system, mainly because (a) it'd be fun, (b) unify fans and media -- they'll all find fault with it but recognize that, okay, THEIR idea got wedged into the mix so at least SOMETHING was done partially right, and (c) attach some value to ALL interleague games, not just the headliner series in Chicago and Noo Yawk. (I could easily live without interleague, but it's here to stay so let's put it to work.)

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Just thinking a bit further -- I do like the third point being cumulative record among the four league playoff teams rather than just the champion team, perhaps with interleague games subtracted (which could be bothersome as not all teams play the same number of IL games). And it would cause a hue and cry if one team, some season, played one less game due to rainout and never replayed it, and that one missing game made the difference in determining the point. See, here's the slippery slope -- try to add just a little complexity to make the entire concept more "fair", and all sorts of factors pop up that were not obvious at first. sigh. Assigning World Series homefield should not be as tangled a mess as, say, playoff tiebreakers. There's just no pleasing some people.

Jumping to the other ship

We'd been members of Sam's Club, the warehouse wholesale branch of Wal-mart, for years. Way back in the day, our annual membership had been free, which is how we got started. And there are some things worth buying in bulk -- detergent, paper towels, and so forth. And then, when the kids arrived, we found the best secret in Sam's -- the house-brand diapers. Less expensive than Pampers or any other name brand offered, and they worked fine and fit better.

I'm not much of a fan of Wal-mart -- I don't shop there unless I've run out of other options. But I was willing to shop at Sam's Club, as it served a purpose financially, there was no other warehouse club in range, and the diapers were really good.

Costco opened a store in North Austin around 2001, and I got the complimentary one-year starter membership, but never renewed because the location was no advantage. That changed recently; Costco opened a South Austin store last year.

And, about six months ago, we stopped needing diapers. And this is very, very much a good thing. (Way to go, Carson!)

When our Sam's membership came up for annual renewal in May, I let it go, rounded up the kids, and off we went to Costco. We signed up a few weeks ago, and they still had me in their records.

So far, all is good. Prices are comparable, location is not bad, and the product selection is similar, sometimes identical. Plus they sell sushi trays (including huge sushi trays), which I haven't yet tried but am anticipating with enthusiasm.

There are a number of Wall Street advisers who don't like Costco because they sacrifice some potential profitability in favor of treating the employees well, and the CEO doesn't pull down some obscene, eight-figure salary. On the whole, Costco has a better moral and ethical position than Sam's (Wal-mart, remember; nothing more need be said). Well, Wall Street is packed full of assholes, so to hell with them. Out here in the real world, Costco serves us well.

Buh-bye, Sam's Club. Hullo, Costco.

Summer movie reviews #5 -- The Incredible Hulk

Marvel is on a roll, and it looks like they know it.

Their newest release, The Incredible Hulk, is a treat. This is the Hulk movie we didn't get in 2003, and what the 1970s television series never could feasibly deliver.

This time, Hulk SMASHES!!! As he should.

It cribs some concepts from the TV series -- Banner's gamma overdose happens in the lab, not a bomb test site -- but stays faithful to the original comics. Poor Bruce is always on the run, trying to figure out a way to cure himself from his condition, loving and missing his brilliant girlfriend, whose tunnel-vision general father will stop at nothing to capture Banner and learn how to weaponize the Hulk effect.

Hulk smashes things. And unlike the TV series or the previous movie, in this one he does talk, just a little, much like he did (of necessity) in the comics.

General Ross authorizes another gamma treatment on a gung-ho career soldier who wants to go head-to-head with Hulk, and so we get a full-blown slugfest that wrecks uptown Manhattan. (In the old comics, New York always got all the abuse from hero-villain fights. Always. Now, this made some practical sense, because Marvel's offices were and are in New York, so the writers and artists liked blowing up the ol' hometown. But geez, why would anyone keep living there? Property values can be trashed with a single ray beam or missed super-punch. Marvel's New York was easily the world's most dangerous city.)

A closing cameo by Tony Stark hints at the next Marvel movie, and judging by recent efforts, it should be a rocking blast.

Three stars of five. Great summertime, popcorn-class, beat-em-up, knock-down, drag-out movie.

Peach Picking Season

It's June, and in Texas Hill Country -- which Austin sits at the very eastern edge of -- that means peaches.

We didn't get around to peach picking last year, and though we did in 2006, Carson was too young (one) to really appreciate the fun. So we set out this past week to haul in a half-bushel of peaches by our own sweat and muscle. (We missed strawberry season this year as well, but as long as we get one or the other, it's enough.)

In recent years only two orchards still have pick-your-own hours. In 2006 we went to Psencik Farms, but this year we returned to our 2005 pick site, Marburger Orchard. Carson was a mere baby last time we were here, lying on a blanket underneath the peach trees. This time he got to help, and engaged the picking action with gusto.

Peaches! Peaches!

We got the standard half-bushel carton, strolled down the orchard lane to the ripening trees -- Harvester peaches were in season. The trees were heavily laden, and the picking was easy. I showed Carson how to give the peach a twist and tug; those ready for picking pop off easily, and any that resist should be left hanging. I gave Carson a shoulder-ride for a bit so he could reach the higher fruit. Both kids couldn't pick fast enough; we were in the trees maybe 20, no more than 30 minutes before the carton was topped off.

Amalie tops off our half-bushel.

So many choices (and this is only one branch).

One side benefit of picking your own peaches is getting to eat a few, as fresh as possible, immediately off the tree. Most that we picked went into the carton, of course, but I found at least two that were at critical sweetness, demanding to be eaten. I left nothing but the pit (Harvester peaches are freestones; the pit comes free easily).

A sweaty headband, a smear of sunscreen, and a bursting peach... a moment of Heaven on Earth.

Marburger kindly has one of their hands drive around with an electric cart, helping haul the filled cartons back to the parking lot. Amalie lifted the carton onto the cart -- pretty good, it weighs around 25 pounds full -- and both kids climbed aboard, leaving Val and me to saunter back up the lane at our ease, under the big Texas sky, a perfect blue afternoon, hot but not brutally so, humidity comfortable.

The day's catch draped jauntily over the fender, the intrepid peach hunters set out back to the lodge for a hearty dinner and an evening of tales of adventure.

The kids rinsed off at the pump and drank their fills, we bought the orchard's last green beans of the day, and repaired to historic Fredericksburg for a delicious German lunch, knockwurst and pastrami and potato salad and such, with a last visit to the local ice cream parlor. Both kids were fast asleep when we pulled into the driveway while the sun was going down.

Since then... the peaches are ripening, perfect for eating. I sliced up about 25 and brought them to Carson's Montessori school on Friday, where the kids gladly wiped them out at snack time. Maybe I'll try making a cobbler. We're making a dent in the carton, trying not to waste any, but it really is more than we can consume ourselves. Maybe the daycare kids get another bowlful next week. Fresh Texas peaches really are scrumptious.

Frustrations in Parenting

You remind your youngest child repeatedly "don't spill your cup of milk". Over and over -- it's a dad thing -- continue reciting the admonition even after it clearly has sunken in and he in fact does not spill his milk.

And then your older child inadvertently clobbers the cup of milk.

sigh.

30something

The dear wife had her birthday two weekends ago -- the last of the calendar year in our family.

The day started well with Carson's last tee-ball game. Val works Saturdays but does try to get to one game per kid sport season, and the combination of her last chance, her birthday, and that she'd been working very hard (and late, and on off days) over the previous two weeks granted perfect alignment for taking a morning off.

The game went well, trophies were handed out at our GattiTown pizza party, and she took her leave to put in a half-day at the office. The kids and I returned home and baked a cake; easy enough. Then we made the traditional buttercream frosting; also easy. Divvied the frosting into four bowls because, of course, food coloring comes in four colors -- blue, green, red, and yellow. We mixed up four small batches of each. I then carefully spread it on, taking care not to get cake crumbs swept up as with cakes past. The cake turned out pretty good, roughly quartered with different colors. And not a spoon nor spatula went unlicked.

Val arrived home and, even more than usual, was rushed by the kids. They had not only to welcome her, but show her the cake AND help her find the scattered presents. With two eager, young assistants (who knew where every gift was lurking), this took but moments.

The haul: a pound of organic coffee, a bar of hand-crafted soap (also coffee; better than it sounds), hand-drawn cards from the kids, a jar of caramel corn-and-sunflower-seeds (a bit disappointing; not bad, but not great), a bottle of wine (wrapped in ribbon, which is a lot more difficult than I'd expected), a bar of white chocolate, a DVD movie (Chocolat), and maybe one or two other small things I've forgotten. The kids helped unwrap everything, like always.

And then we ate cake. Well... some of us ate cake. Smaller people ate frosting by the fingerful. The cake was soon plowed into rows and ready for planting. Oh dear; well, the purpose was served. Another fine birthday celebration.

Turning the page on kindergarten

Amalie finished her kindergarten year at Casey Elementary this past Wednesday, June 4th.

Austin Independent School District has promoted her to first grade for the fall semester.

She nailed, utterly nailed her fourth quarter: every subject a "4", top of the scale.

She's now enjoying her first official summer vacation, and a well-earned one after what was quite a year.

And she's got another tooth coming loose.

The 2008 Tee-ball Season

When the local kid soccer league was in progress back in March-April, it was also time to register for the following Saturday sport, tee-ball. Carson said yes, Amalie no. She'd played last year and didn't want to again, not this time. Fine. I signed up Carson and checked the "I'll coach" box on the registration form.

So I got to be an official coach, with the tee shirt and everything, along with my co-coach Ray. I drove around to various Academy sporting goods stores getting the small, unadorned caps to match our red shirts. We named ourselves the Red Rockets. Ray and I worked on some very basic practice drills -- fielding, throwing, hitting, running. Our roster, eleven boys total, were all three years old, so getting any lessons to stick is a triumph. I think the basic throwing motion, of stepping with the glove-side foot first, was our biggest success. Some of the youngsters have pretty good cannons for their age!

We played six games over a seven-week schedule (no games on Memorial Day weekend), which included one rescheduled due to rainout, and seven practices. Almost everyone showed up every time, frequently with both parents or even a grandparent. And the families all helped out -- snack suppliers, extra game coaches, ball collecting, basic shepherding. It worked out really well.

Tee-ball for three year olds is a very basic form of baseball -- everyone bats in every inning (we never played more than two), the last batter runs all the way around, there's no outs, no score kept, fielding is usually the first one to get to the ball and everyone is playing the infield (boys and girls this small just don't have slugging power). Oh, I think we did ingrain another lesson: when you're all on the same team and wearing the same shirt, it doesn't matter who gets the ball, just that someone does. Teamwork.

Ray and I handed out, after each game, gold stars for hitting excellence, silver stars for defensive displays, and blue stars for various creative contributions -- getting dirty (always a sign of dedication to the craft), taking a ball off the shoulder, willing to bat while still wearing the glove. By the end of our short season, every player had earned at least one gold and one silver, and most had a blue as well -- but no mistake, every one was earned.

Ray said that coaching the Red Rockets was ten times more fun than he expected it would have been, and I completely agree with that.

We adjourned, after the final game, to our local GattiTown for pizza, trophies, and games. Every player gets a league trophy, and I gave each player two packs of Topps baseball cards as well. The parents showered Ray and me -- custom tee shirts with handprints from each player, trophies of our own, and gift cards to a local restaurant. Quite a treat (and thank you very much!) for us.

Watching these youngest rookies improve from the first practice to the last game was sheer delight, as was simply introducing them to the greatest game on Earth, baseball. To me, they were all champions.

The 2008 Red Rockets: my own Carson, Christopher, David, Ian, Jaidyn, Jalen, John-Michael, Liam, Logan, Matthew, and Mikah. You guys, and your families, were great. It was my honor to be your coach.

Summer movie reviews #4 -- Kung Fu Panda

Kid-centric movies get advertised to saturation on Nickelodeon. I understand this; easy enough to see why. And I kinda wanted to see Kung Fu Panda anyway. But my 6 year old daughter made sure I knew when it was coming out. So, today, after the weekend (and she's into her summer vacation), we went.

It rocks. Go see it.

The story is pretty standard -- a master must train a less-than-promising (disastrously chosen, even) disciple in order that the student may defeat the great adversary (who escapes his prison by virtue of the prison being inspected to ensure he cannot escape -- a predictable twist, but always a good one, that planning for one future activates the opposite destiny). The chosen one, a completely inept (but eager) panda named Po, is both challenged and assisted by the five advanced students, each of which hoped to be chosen as the Dragon Warrior until fate pushed Po in the way.

No one has confidence in Po, including himself, but he loves the kung fu discipline and prefers being bad at kung fu to being a noodle shop cook at any level of expertise. He won't quit, so train he must, and Master Shifu must in turn train him. Nothing goes well until Shifu realizes he must engage Po's love for the martial art with his other passion in order to drive him to excel.

There are two superb action sequences back-to-back: a training fight over the last lunch dumpling which is simply hilarious, brimming with martial arts cliches, and whiplashing action, immediately followed by a rope bridge battle that would be the showcase highlight were it not for the dumpling duel.

The animation is good, standard quality for 2008 with excellent lighting effects, and the voice acting is great. Plenty of well-known names, with Dustin Hoffman as Master Shifu being the very best of the bunch -- there's only a few times when he is identifiably Hoffman.

Four stars out of five.

Snap review from a 6 year old: "I liked it. Really good." She loved the dumpling fight, too.

Summer movie reviews #3 -- Iron Man

I don't read many comic books today -- a few, select ones, but my addiction days are a thing of distant past now. But Iron Man is one of the characters on which I cut my teeth, both as a reader and as a comics fan. The stories, such as I can recall (early 1970s), were okay, but it really was all about the suit. That magnificent suit and all the cool things it could do -- fly, protect, heat, cool, blaster rays ("repulsors"). And of course part of it was keeping Tony Stark alive as well, making it his curse and his blessing, in the standard Stan Lee/Marvel manner. One would think transistors could do anything.

CGI technology has finally caught up to what an Iron Man film would require, because it is, and it has to be, all about the suit. And it delivers hugely.

Munitions billionaire and engineering genius Stark gets kidnapped after demo'ing his newest product in Afghanistan. Builds a prototype suit from his own wares in order to escape, and does. He undergoes a change of heart when he sees what Stark Munitions have wrought around the world, and determines to build a better suit to use in making the world a better place. But other stockholders don't want the entire company repurposed, and co-opt the original design for a new military product. And we get a showdown between Iron Man and the alternative Iron Monster. Bang, zoom, pow!

Lead actor Robert Downey nails his part, and is much better in an action role than would be expected based upon his past body of work. Stark is smooth, damn smart, a smartass, and a fighter both on paper and in action -- not an easily-portrayed character. Downey brings it off very well.

Four stars out of five.

Marvel is building a movie-based universe analogous to its comic universe, and is doing it very, very well. I can't wait to see The Incredible Hulk in a few weeks.

Summer movie reviews #2 -- Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull

Now this is a summertime movie. Rollicking high adventure with some old friends and some new, worthy companions (and adversaries). Pity they couldn't work in Sallah.

Indy Jones is back, once again scraping by on smarts, determination, some skill and some luck. The adventure begins in that huge, mysterious warehouse we saw at the end of Raiders Of The Lost Ark, and soon the chases are on. Dr. Jones makes his escape in his usual style -- chaotic, destructive, and breathtaking.

It's 1957, so the Nazis are long gone, but the Communists step in as the bad guys well enough. After some excitement at his college campus (and not that I recognized anything in particular, but I know it was filmed in and around Yale University, which is somewhat familiar territory for me, so that was some bonus delight), and some cryptic code-breaking, Indy and his new sidekick are off in pursuit of the title artifact, a crystal skull... one which is evidently not human, and which does not belong in a museum.

This leads to a race through the jungles of South America, to the standard, ancient Lost City wherein the treasure may be achieved through the perils of flora, fauna, and clever traps engineered long, long ago. Indy & Co. weather everything, succeed in their quest, the bad guys get theirs, and the archaeological world is set to rights, with a climax Spielberg cribbed from some of his own, older movies (but it works just fine).

Five stars out of five.

Remember to breathe, because this one will take yours away.

Summer movie reviews #1 -- Speed Racer

I've already seen four movies this summer season, and will definitely see more. This is rare, rare for me -- I probably didn't see four movies in all of 2007.

First up, Speed Racer.

This film is a total popcorn flick, a live-action cartoon. Those who remember the anime series on TV decades ago -- like me -- will remember it with humor and some fondness. It was silly and cool.

The film comes barreling right at you, full throttle, gorgeous firecracker colors in huge swaths all over the screen, and loud loud loud. There is a plot, sort of, but it's not very important, nor is the story. This is about insane racing over, around, and through impossible tracks. Many of the original tropes are here -- the sound effects, the Mach 5's gimmicks, the annoying kid brother and chimpanzee (sigh). The acting suits the material, and even John Goodman (as Pops Racer) is subsumed into the color-saturated landscape (and it's hard to bury Goodman). Pure, energetic adrenaline.

Don't expect a lot, because you won't find it. Pure, simple fun is what Speed Racer delivers, and it does so very well.

Particularly thrilling: the race across the desert. Simply pulse-pounding.

Three stars out of five.

Snap review from a 3-year-old who is car-obsessed: "great!"

Not dead, merely resting

Ever have one of those times when you just didn't feel like blogging?

That was, like, all of May for me. And most of April.

The faucet is back on.

The Swallows Are Back, 2008

Yeah, I know I haven't finished the sea cruise yet.

Our swallows came back this past week -- but unfortunately for them, they didn't find their nest, as it fell down in December after several years' worthy service. So for a few nights they sat atop the window molding to sleep, but showed no indication of working to rebuild another nest.

So Valerie worked some magic with the old nest -- which we had kept -- a plastic cup, and some screws and braces, and remounted the nest in more or less the same location, along with some cut branches for decor or camouflage or just extra perching.

And the swallows weirded out and flew away for a couple of days.

And then they came back. Sat on the nest. Poked at it, assessed it, and must have decided it was indeed suitable, because they've settled in. We expect a clutch of hatchlings in two or three weeks, they are occasionally dive-bombing the cats, and the cats are ignoring them. So, just like in years past.

Silly birds -- but charming.

Won't You Let Me Take You On A Sea Cruise?

Hoo-wee, baby.

My dad came into some inheritance loot a few years back, and as his grandchildren live quite distant (he and the mom are in Connecticut, my two are in central Texas, the other three in Orlando), he really goes the extra kilometer in generosity to spend time with them. Last year it was nearly a full month visiting peaceful* New England suburbia. This time, a Carnival cruise out of Galveston to ports Cozumel and Progreso, Mexico, specifically selected to coincide with Amalie's school spring break week. (Longtime readers -- yeah, both of you -- will remember I had to obtain passports for the kids. This is why.)

* If one overlooks the triple murder, assault, grand theft, and arson that took place nearby in one very shocking, ugly night. (I'm not going to link to any descriptions of this dismal event. Search if you really want to know more.)

After a far-too-long day of preparing to depart, finally departing, and driving to Galveston, we stayed one night in a La Quinta facing the beach. We arrived around 11:30 pm, which would not have been my choice, but we made it. Worse, we missed a chance to stop at the Ikea store in Houston, which was the one thing I wanted to accomplish on the road trip portion of our vacation; ah well, another chance loomed after the cruise.

I like La Quinta. I've stayed at several, have tended to be treated quite nicely and get a decent bed and shower, which is generally all I ask from a short-stay hotel. Happily, the Galveston franchise met my standard, and for a nominal $10 flat fee, we were able to park our car on site and have the hotel bus take us to the ship port.

Due to poor weather conditions, our ship, the Carnival Ecstasy, made port several hours late, which earned us some credits against our on-board accounts. Not the smoothest of starts, but really not a big deal, and unavoidable. We checked in our luggage, secured our "Sign & Sail" cards for shipboard use (general ID, account spending), left my quite tired Mom in the secure area, and went out for lunch (alongside many other temporarily stranded shipmates). Fuddrucker's provided some delicious burgers, and we returned to the terminal. The steward, still on duty, recognized us and sped us along the VIP line so we could re-clear security quickly and board the ship. After having an embarkation portrait taken -- the first of an absolute flurry of photo ops -- we finally arrived in the ship's Grand Atrium.

And here ends Part 1, because I have to go cook spaghetti. Spoliers: the ship didn't sink, and we all made it home safely, so don't read on in hopes of drama or suspense. There is something of a happy ending though.

A different kind of three

Today, for the first time I can recall in Austin, I paid over $3.00 for a gallon of gas. I knew it was coming for a while now -- but stations had still held out at $2.99 for quite some time (as peak; sometimes it dropped lower), which clearly was for psychological reasons. People just hate seeing that next dollar mark breached. Well, there it goes.

Economic policies of the current administration are proven failures, unless you're already stinking rich. So, stop voting for such meretricious pieces of filth. Especially when they're from Texas.

...and Three

A quick two weeks later on the calendar, our son Carson's birthday follows Amalie's, as he turns three today. He never did stay "baby" for long -- his face lost the standard baby fat, the rounded softness, after a few months -- but now he's a genuine, full-fledged kid. He's finally old enough to play in the local kid soccer league, which starts in two weeks.

Later tonight, after gymnastics, he'll get to have his Present Hunt around the house -- and he's hoping for many toy cars. Trust me, it is covered. He's also getting a couple of other toys, an Ikea chair that was overlooked at Christmastime, some annual coin sets, a baseball bean bag chair, and a twin-size set of Lightning McQueen sheets for when we get him a bed. He's also getting soccer shinguards, but those are not so much a gift as mandatory equipment. And, to keep things fair, Amie is also getting the same coin sets, and her own bean bag -- pink, of course.

Later we'll have cupcakes. We made banana bread last week and took it to his daycare school on Friday (he doesn't attend on Mondays), and it was completely gone by day's end. This is typical; we make banana bread about once a month or so, contribute it as a treat for the kids, and they love it. So yummy!

After letting myself get badly overwhelmed by Christmas and birthdays in 2006-07, this gift-giving season went much more smoothly. I'm pleased, and not at all stressed like before. Ahhhhh!

Of course, Valentine's Day is later this week, but we make very little fuss about that holiday. Tiny boxes of chocolates and we're done. That's more than enough.

My 2008 Hugo Nominations

The Hugo Awards are the highest honors in science fiction, announced annually at the World Science Fiction Convention, or WorldCon. I was a member of the 2007 WorldCon (but did not attend, as it was in Japan, and circumstances aligned solidly against it), and so am entitled to make nominations for the 2008 Hugos. Once the final ballot is compiled, members of the 2008 WorldCon -- Denvention 3, to be held in Denver in August -- are eligible to vote. I'm probably going to attend, but haven't yet decided for certain.

Despite being a member of several past WorldCons, I've never before submitted a Hugo nomination ballot, mainly because I wasn't all that interested -- I like SF but I'm more a dabbler or dilettante than hardcore about it. But this year, I have been badgered to submit, as I slightly know one candidate. Okay, that's fair, try to help a friend get on the final ballot, maybe even win. The Hugos are, after all, devastatingly cool.

So here's what I have on my nomination ballot, noting that I made no submissions whatsoever in several categories: Best Novelette, Best Short Story, Best Editor - Short Form, Best Editor - Long Form, Best Fanzine, Best Fan Writer, and Best Fan Artist. I have no ideas, so I simply am passing.

What I did submit:
Best Novel
Terry Pratchett -- Making Money
J.R.R. Tolkien -- The Children Of Húrin
J.K. Rowling -- Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows

I love Pratchett's work, and while MM isn't his best Discworld novel, it is still a pretty good one. I included Tolkien because, heck, when will I ever get another chance to nominate Tolkien? And Rowling, well, she surely won't need my vote to get on the final ballot, but sometimes it's fun to go along with the crowd.

Best Novella
Melanie Fletcher -- "Sabre Dance"

Shameless nepotism here.

Best Related Book
Phil & Kaja Foglio -- Girl Genius Vol. 6: Agatha Heterodyne And The Golden Trilobite

As with Pratchett, I absolutely love the Foglios' work, and the Girl Genius series -- which continues three times weekly on their website -- is a massive, engaging, essentially brilliant work. Whenever it is finished -- or at least, whenever this still-somewhat-introductory storyline reaches a conclusion or significant breakpoint -- it will stand as, no kidding, a masterpiece of the genre and in the field. Girl Genius is THAT good. As a work in the comic style, words and pictures, I didn't think it fit anywhere else on the ballot.

Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form
Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer
Blade Runner: The Final Cut
Enchanted
Transformers
Ghost Rider

Generically this is the "movies" category but it is open to any presented works of 90 minutes or longer. I enjoyed Surfer a great deal, it was much better than the first FF film and did a respectable job of bringing the original Silver Surfer story to the silver screen. The new, allegedly final edit of Blade Runner was excellent, and just having the chance to nominate it is reason enough to nominate it. Transformers and Ghost Rider were both good fun that treated the material with suitable respect; they told good stories without being dumb or tongue-in-cheek.

Enchanted is probably the best treatment of the archetypal Disney princess tale ever done. It is witty, funny, captivating, is told well, good direction, spot-on acting by the leads, excellent songs. It is -- dare I say it? -- enchanting. I list it here proudly, as it is a genuine treat of a film that anyone can enjoy.

Best Dramatic Presentation, Short Form
Avatar: The Last Airbender -- "The Day Of Black Sun (Parts 1 & 2)"
Avatar: The Last Airbender -- "The Avatar And The Firelord"
Futurama: Bender's Big Score
TMNT
Shrek The Halls

The short form category is for productions of 90 minutes or less, so most television shows will fit in here, but anything is eligible if short enough. I know I'm skirting a bit by including the new Futurama and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles works, but they do come in under the time limit. Despite being canceled in 2003, the Futurama crew came back into action without missing a step, and it was a delight to have them back. The Turtles film was a bit silly but had some brilliant action sequences, and some of the best dramatic character interaction of the year. Avatar is a wonderful show -- my kids, 6 and 3, love it as much as I do, and follow the stories easily despite being well-detailed at times. Unfortunately, Nickelodeon is treating it dismally of late; perhaps getting some deserved recognition for this fine series will encourage the head office to shape up a bit. I picked what I thought were the two (well, three) best episodes that debuted in 2007. And the Shrek Christmas special was excellent, especially after the disappointment of the third feature film; it meshed the irascible ogre with the holiday spirit very well, and I think it's going to be a perennial in the Christmas special pantheon.

Best Professional Artist
Phil Foglio -- Girl Genius

I've already gushed at length. He's won it before, and deserves it again. (To be fair, Foglio won the Best Fan Artist Hugo in 1977 and 1978. I'm sure he's got room on the shelf for a third Hugo.)

Best Semiprozine
Helix SF

Just tossin' in a little bit more nepotism here.

John W. Campbell Award (not a Hugo Award, as the committee always reminds us)

William LedBetter

The sponsored award for best new SF writer. Always remember, it is NOT a Hugo, they just bundle it with the Hugos.

So, that's what I thought was noteworthy in the 2007 world of science fiction. I'm certain I missed a ton. Let's see what makes it to the final ballot.

Six

Our oldest, Amalie, turns six today. It's just hard to believe, despite the extremely live evidence before us. A mere six years ago, this li'l baby entered our lives and made everything that much better and more engaging.

She distributed cupcakes to her kindergarten class last Friday, her choice, as a way of giving everyone a special sendoff into the weekend. Her school has an unofficial policy that store-bought are preferred to homemade -- which struck me as a bit odd, but no matter. We procured two dozen chocolate cupcakes (with various colors of frosting, applied in the "huge swirly glob" method) at our local supermarket, and they were met with strong approval. There were even a few leftover, so the calories were available at home until Saturday. (I had hardly a nibble.)

Sunday, she got one present early, a gift card to Build-A-Bear. Val took Amie and Carson to the store, giving me a window to wrap her other presents (which I did). When they finally got home, Amie had a polka-dotted puppy with a host of accouterments, the total cost of which went well beyond the gift card's preset amount. No matter; she turns six but once.

And tonight, after school and gymnastics, she gets her big deal, the home celebration. I have to go bake a cake later, but the highlight is the present hunt. We have a young tradition of scattering (not hiding) presents around the house on birthdays, and the guest of honor has to go forth and find them all. Tonight there will be nine gifts, wrapped in purple Tinkerbell paper, for Amie to find, along with a big present that will be simply under a blanket.

We had intended to get her this thing, a Plan Toys chalet dollhouse, for Christmas, but it simply was not to be found for a reasonable price plus shipping -- so we got her a smaller, still nifty model instead, and decided to postpone the chalet for her birthday. However, when January rolled around, it still wasn't to be found, so I rummaged through Craig's List and, voila, there was one being sold for a reasonable price, and in south Austin. Turns out another couple had gotten the chalet (which comes with furniture, quite a boon) for their 2 1/2 year old for Christmas, but he just hadn't taken to it, so they offered it at a tiny discount from retail. I dropped by to check it out -- they live barely a mile and a half away -- and it was ideal, already assembled, essentially new. I gladly handed over the cash, they were happy, I was happy, and tonight Amalie gets to go nuts over it.

Six. And Carson reaches three in just two weeks. Yes, they really do grow up so fast.

Aarrghh!

Is today "drive extra-stupid day" and I just didn't get the memo?

Gaaaahhh!!!

The Hall's 2008 Writers Ballot -- Review and Wrap-up

The Hall announced the results of the writers ballot voting on 08-January -- I'm a bit behind on closing this topic -- and congratulations to Rich "Goose" Gossage for his well-earned, and certainly overdue, election to baseball's most exclusive society and highest individual honor.

2008 HOF Voting results (543 ballots returned)

index - candidate - votes - % - my prediction - how'd I do?

--- ELECTED ---
1. Gossage, Goose..... 466.. 85.82....79%.. got "Elected" right.
--- not elected ---
2. Rice, Jim.......... 392.. 72.19... over 70%..... ok
3. Dawson, Andre...... 358.. 65.93... over 68%..... close
4. Blyleven, Bert..... 336.. 61.88... over 60%..... ok
5. Smith, Lee......... 235.. 43.28... 45%.......... ok
6. Morris, Jack....... 233.. 42.91... 46%.......... close
7. John, Tommy........ 158.. 29.10... ~25%......... low
8. Raines, Tim........ 132.. 24.31... 35%.......... foo!
9. McGwire, Mark...... 128.. 23.57... 29%....... a wild guess
10. Trammell, Alan..... 99.. 18.23... 19%.......... ok
11. Concepcion, Davey.. 88.. 16.21... over 20%.. high; last ballot
12. Mattingly, Don..... 86.. 15.84... 14%.......... ok
13. Parker, Dave....... 82.. 15.10... 15%.......... ok
14. Murphy, Dale....... 75.. 13.81... 15%.......... ok
15. Baines, Harold..... 28... 5.16... below 5%..... oh so close
--- relegated ---
16. Beck, Rod........... 2... 0.37... below 5%..... ok
17. Fryman, Travis...... 2... 0.37... below 5%..... ok
18. Nen, Robb........... 2... 0.37... below 5%..... ok
19. Dunston, Shawon..... 1... 0.18... below 5%..... ok
20. Finley, Chuck....... 1... 0.18... 9%........... way off
21. Justice, David...... 1... 0.18... 6%........... similar
22. Knoblauch, Chuck.... 1... 0.18... below 5%..... ok
23. Stottlemyre, Todd... 1... 0.18... 0 or 1 vote.. ok
24. Anderson, Brady..... 0... 0.00... below 5%..... ok
25. Rijo, Jose.......... 0... 0.00... 2 votes...... high

I don't want to hash over my predictions but a little; they weren't that hard -- voting trends are easy enough to spot -- and Raines was the only ballot newcomer who was worthy of any attention by the voters. I thought they'd show Finley and Justice a little more love, but no, and that doesn't upset me.

All of the other ten ballot newcomers were relegated, and Concepcion's eligibility has now expired, so that clears a lot of deadwood from the 2009 ballot. I'm amazed Baines hung on yet again -- he actually got one vote less than last time, and had no room to spare, but he's bound to fall off soon.

Turning to the other interesting candidates:

McGwire got the exact same vote total as in 2007, so it wasn't a one-time rebuke. The controversy surrounding him and his career will keep his Hall candidacy a continuing enigma for the next few years. As other steroid-suspect players reach the ballot, a sea change may yet come, but there is no way to predict at this early stage.

Raines deserves much higher returns -- heck, he deserves election -- so here's hoping this was a one-time "no first ballot for Rock" response and his 2009 return shows a promising, large jump. (Really, waging the Bert PR campaign is hard enough.)

John has one year left. Don't hope for much.

Morris' candidacy makes people stupid -- or perhaps "emotional" is a better description. No matter how his career is studied, the Hall-worthiness just isn't there unless one desperately wants to see it, in which case it's obvious and the rest of us are blind morons. It really gets tiresome.

Blyleven took a nice jump (+14.2 percentage points) so, we can hope, the ball is rolling toward the deserved bronze plaque at last. Bert 2009! Bert 2010! Come on already!

Dawson's gonna make it, probably by 2010.

Rice has one year left, but he'll get it. Just elect him already. Like Morris, the Hall-worthiness is there if you really, really want to see it. Bleah; the treacle in the articles and columns a year from now is going to be troweled on knee-deep.

And the Goose, at last, bringing in the biggest jump on the ballot, +14.6 percentage points. His inclusion raises the bar on what makes a reliever/closer Hall-class, and this is a good thing.

Looking ahead to the 2009 ballot, there'll be 13 holdovers -- one way or another, Rice's and John's candidacies will expire -- and among the newcomers, there's only one Sure Thing, Rickey Henderson, who is bound to deliver one of the most entertaining, and probably perplexing, induction speeches on record.

Keep stumping for Bert, and put in a good word for Raines as well. We can keep campaigning for him through 2022, but let's hope it doesn't take that long.

And Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again.

For this mom and dad, the wait is over. The kids' holiday (i.e., Christmas; I honestly have no preference for the semantics here) break began Friday, 21-December-2007, and ended when Amalie returned to class yesterday (Tuesday 08-January-2008), with Carson resuming his taxing daycare curriculum today.

It was a very good break indeed.

On that first Friday, Amalie had a class at Central Market's cooking school -- decorating her own gingerbread house. Her results were lovely, and we couldn't bring ourselves to so much as touch it.

On Saturday 12/22, Amalie and I made a huge double batch of toll house cookies, making the entire house smell sweetly caloric. On Sunday, Carson and I visited a few friends I hadn't seen in a while, handing out festive tins of the cookies along with cards. It's not something I do often enough, really.

Christmas Day itself was an exciting but leisurely affair. Val and I actually got in some sleep this time, and everyone woke up within ten minutes of each other. The easy chairs in the family room caught Amie's eye, each stacked with gifts, so after quickly sorting out which chair was for her and which was for Carson, away they went. We impose a not-very-strict "one gift at a time, take turns" policy, so it took some time to empty both chairs, followed by a tactical strike by the kids on their stockings (unusual, as the stockings are usually last -- one year we didn't get to them until the 26th -- but we don't usually start in the family room anyway). After that frenzy was over, we broke for breakfast and phone calls, then turned to the tree in the front room. Amalie can guess-read tags, so she was in charge of first distribution (the grownups validated her interpretations) for a while. One large pile of wrapped gifts slowly gave way to four smaller piles of goodies and one tsunami of crumpled paper and ribbons. We did finish before sundown (and this is not because of the sheer volume of stuff -- this was a notably smaller hoard than in years past; but taking turns also takes time). Lunchtime sort of breezed by, with Val providing a snack tray, and around dinnertime no one was hungry, as our Christmases tend to inspire day-long munching of both goodies and conscientiously nutritious stuffs, and the general adrenaline rush just pushes everyone along as well. Finally, we returned to the stockings, and Val and I emptied ours. I found (hadn't paid attention earlier) that I also had a tiny bonus stocking, with moose on it, in which was a small chocolate bar (dark chocolate, of course).

A brief and incomplete summary of the haul:
Amalie: a hand-held game cartridge system, a scooter, dolls and doll clothes and things, a large dollhouse (not for Barbies), some games, and a pink-handled small Swiss Army knife. And a selection of DVD movies, heavily weighted toward Disney Princess material.

Carson: cars -- oh man, lots and lots of cars, Hot Wheels, Matchbox, Tonka, Pixar Cars movie cars, two giant carriers trucks. Hot Wheels track (plain, basic stuff found on eBay, not some tricked-out, branded set all the stores carry). Two RC cars, the noises of which scare him (luckily one has a mute switch). A kid-sized basketball hoop. A Pixar Cars toybox/bench. Larger sweat pants and socks, since he's growing like a weed. And a selection of DVD movies.

Val: an air compressor, pajamas, the traditional Iditarod medallion for 2008, the similarly traditional tiny (four sweets) box of Godiva chocolates (devoured by the whole family in a record two minutes), a laser level (nothing says "I love you" like power tools), and a selection of DVD movies.

me: Red Sox championship card sets, a couple of baseball books (I always get some), two commemorative baseballs, moccasins, a Rubik's new thingie the kids have already confiscated, some hand tools, several kitchen cooking widgets (egg separator, new measuring cups, chopsticks with holders, etc.), and a selection of DVD movies, including the 2007 World Series.

On the 27th, rested and ready, we ventured forth (at 4:00 pm...) toward Mississippi to visit Val's sister Jenny and her husband Dickie Joe. It's a long hike, just short of 600 miles, and even with an early start it makes for a very long day, so on the trip out (we go at least once a year) we plan on one night's stay somewhere. This time it was Beaumont, Texas, almost to the state line; we could have gone further but the kids were tired, and it's not fair to push them to keep traveling without need. We made decent time, mainly because driving through Houston was rather quiet, being holiday time. We set out the next day before 9:00 am (rather amazing, that) but it was slow going -- our breakfast stop ran longer than it should, as we built in a play stop at a very nice park in Jennings, Louisiana. This wasn't as much fun as we'd hoped, owing to heavy rains the night before leaving plenty of puddles, but the kids romped well. Just before leaving, I pulled off the road for a restroom stop, and this was a mistake -- just off the road was quite muddy, and I ignorantly got the car completely off the road by about four inches, which was just enough to mire it down. Four inches! I got out to push, Val took the wheel, but we'd have been there longer were it not for a passing local who understood our issue and offered to help push. Working together, we were back on the road in five seconds; I thanked him dearly, he just nodded graciously, and we were all on our way again. There's still some mud on the front fender where the right side front wheel was kicking it up in futility. Later, some breakdowns on a bridge also slowed things down; what should have been a six-hour drive stretched into almost ten. But we made it at last.

Visiting Jenny and Dickie Joe on their ranch is always relaxing. It is roomy, quiet, they are wonderful hosts, and there are cows to look at. The front pasture, this time, was home to only two bovines, a pair of black Angus bulls they'd bought for breeding in the spring. Both were under two years old, and though they were a bit trepidacious of us, when we watched feeding time from afar they acted like puppies, running and bouncing in delight. This is very entertaining behavior when performed by 1200 pound animals.

Our first full night in Mississippi, there was a tremendous thunderstorm, real roof-rattling, rolling thunderclaps. Some were sufficiently close to be full-fledged booms. I went out on the porch to watch for a bit -- the rain wasn't very heavy, curiously -- and happened to be looking in the right direction to see a direct strike, the clap of which hit me (and I mean hit me) in about 1.5 seconds, so that was plenty close. The storm finally passed sometime after midnight.

We spent one afternoon touring some of the coastline near Gulfport, which had been ravaged by Katrina in 2005. It is slowly recovering; sobering and encouraging at once.

We took our leave early on January 1, hoping that the drunkards were off the roads by now. Since we don't have to worry about arriving too late when getting home, we try to go for the one-day push, and we made it. Houston again gave us little problem, and since New Year's Day is an out-and-about type of holiday, there was no problems finding restaurants. A long and tiring day, but getting home makes it worthwhile.

Val returned to work later in the week, leaving me in charge of the kids for another few days. We ran a few errands, but otherwise finished out the school break in humdrum fashion at home.

School's back in session. Amalie got her second period report card, identical to the first.

And there was much rejoicing...

The birth certificates came back today, intact, undamaged, and this coming from a bureaucracy, in separate envelopes.

Unusual envelopes, too -- large, brown, 9.5" x 12" envelopes, but with the flap on the long side (and no brad), and taped shut with one, quite long, extra-wide piece of tape, perfectly placed. Either the taping is done mechanically or the passport department has at least one person who has dedicated his or her life to mastering the zen of envelope taping. Being a civil service of the government, could be either.

Happy ending -- we got the passports and the birth certificates in impressively quick time.

Passports redux

In my recent post about applying for passports for the kids, I didn't really harp on the return time -- quoted as 4 to 6 weeks, with horror stories of 10 to 13. With the cruise scheduled for March, I had the occasional frightening vision of waiting for the postman with the car running, hoping for one last delivery with the documents before dashing for Galveston. Would we suffer such a nailbiter?

No. Both passports arrived today -- turned around in under three weeks, and ones with several holidays included. While I expect this is because the background checks on a five-year-old and a two-year-old are trivial ("So, kid -- tossing spitballs in nursery school, eh? Did ten minutes of hard timeout for that one, I see. Hope you learned your lesson."), credit where it's due -- the DOS served its actions in impressive time.

Now if only their birth certificates make it back as well.

Passports

My folks are offering (threatening, really, as they've been wanting to do this for years) to take us on a cruise in the Gulf of Mexico next year -- and since Amalie is now in public school, we plan on taking her spring break week in March, though if she had to miss a week of kindergarten I really wouldn't worry too much. Anyway, the plan is underway, and thanks to a bunch of idiots a few years ago coupled with way too much bureaucratic overreaction, even our children now need passports. Ah, brave new world, indeed.

And the lead time takes longer than ever before too. Gotta love that "smaller government" that the Bush administration claimed it would deliver.

We visited the AAA office last week and got the kids' portraits shots taken, which was a much longer experience than it should have been, but finally completed. Then I picked up the forms at the post office -- and promptly dropped them in a puddle later that day. sigh. Picked up new ones a few days ago, and filled them out this morning. Despite being six pages long, only two pages actually require information, and even then it's pretty basic stuff -- name, addy, DOB, parental info, the usual drivel. I did have to stand up the kids and measure their heights, which was about as far afield as the data collection went.

Off to the local USPO, where the hours are soooo convenient: 10:00 am to 1:00 pm, and 1:30 pm to 3:00 pm. Apparently, these are State Department requirements, though how these insanely restrictive windows serve the public good is a complete mystery. We had to wait for another customer to finish, and finally got our turn.

Now, remember, the passport application is six pages long, four pages of which are rather dense instructions, caveats, warnings, and the rest of the typical legal blather. With so many trees laying down their carbon dioxide-converting lives for this cause, wouldn't one think that all details, at least the fairly common ones, would be covered? Sure, but that's because we're rational people and don't work for the government.

Missing detail #1: Val, being a working mom, couldn't attend this little paper-processing ceremony, but the DOS is good enough to allow for a notarized statement of permission to cover this matter. Yesterday I had her type up a simple, two-line statement, print it out at work, and have the in-house notary take care of the legal bit (many large employers have an in-house notary). Even printed and notarized two copies just to be sure, with the kids' full names, in CAPITALS. The agent read the statement, and expressed concern that, since we hadn't included Amalie's and Carson's dates of birth, their might be delays. Um, okay, but... well... since the application did not mention, anywhere, exactly what information this notarized statement should include, how the hell important could that be? "Well, it could cause delays..." -- this really was not helpful. I decided to take the risk rather than waste more time on our end re-doing this little statement, as our kids have quite distinctive names that would be hard to confuse. But why the fark cannot the entire State Department bother getting this little detail -- dates of birth -- on this massive form? Thanks a lot, Condi. Medal of Freedom coming up for you, girl.

Missing detail #2. I had smartly brought along the kids' Social Security cards and birth certificates. The agent said I had to include the certificates in the application package. Um, what? Those are the only copies I have! "Not to worry, you'll get them back, separate from the passports of course." There was no choice in this matter, and again, surrender of birth certificates is mentioned nowhere on this huge, six-page portfolio. Why isn't this mentioned, State Department? Why are we paying these peoples' salaries? Oh, right -- in the Bushist government, incompetence is a virtue.

Feh.

But wait! The crowning touch -- thankfully I was allowed to pay by personal check. Actually, by three checks -- two different checks, each for $52, made out to "Department of State", one for each application, and another for $60 to the US Postmaster, some mandated service fee (at least I got to cover this with one check, as it does break down to $30 per application).

I don't see where anyone, ever, gets the notion that government can be run like a streamlined corporation. Well, other than through outright lying, always popular in political circles. Government isn't intended to be a for-profit enterprise, and no one yet has ever offered a servicable plan for limiting the bloat. It probably could be done in limited circumstances, but no one much in position to do something about it finds it in their interests to do so. And so, we have six-page forms and need three different checks.

I hope this cruise is worth the preparatory nonsense.

The Hall's New Veterans Committee -- The Results

The Hall Of Fame has announced the results from the two ballots considered by different delegations of the revamped Veterans Committee. Electors are limited to no more than four votes among the ten candidates per ballot. Different electorates vote on each ballot.

Managers & Umpires (12 of 16, 75%, needed for election)

rank candidate...........votes..percentage

1t. Billy Southworth* (M)...13 81.3% -- ELECTED
1t. Dick Williams (M).......13 81.3% -- ELECTED
3t. Doug Harvey* (U)........11 68.8%
3t. Whitey Herzog (M).......11 68.8%
5. Danny Murtaugh* (M).......6 37.5%
6. Hank O'Day (U)............4 25.0%
7t. Davey Johnson* (M)......<3 ≤12.5%
7t. Billy Martin (M)........<3 ≤12.5%
7t. Gene Mauch (M)..........<3 ≤12.5%
7t. Cy Rigler (U)...........<3 ≤12.5%

* Candidates for whom I would have voted.

Executives (9 of 12, 75%, needed for election)

rank candidate.....votes..percentage

1t. Barney Dreyfuss....10 83.3% -- ELECTED
1t. Bowie Kuhn.........10 83.3% -- ELECTED
3. Walter O'Malley*.....9 75.0% -- ELECTED
4. Ewing Kauffman*......5 41.7%
5. John Fetzer..........4 33.3%
6t. Bob Howsam..........3 25.0%
6t. Marvin Miller*......3 25.0%
8t. Buzzie Bavasi......<3 ≤16.7%
8t. John McHale........<3 ≤16.7%
8t. Gabe Paul..........<3 ≤16.7%

* Candidates for whom I would have voted.

Interesting that the Hall now uses a "less than" mimimum return, which I suppose is a face-saving gesture for the bottom down-ballot candidates, as a return of zero really is very dismissive. Looking at the votes, and noting that each elector was limited to four votes maximum, 58 of a possible 64 votes on the M&U ballot, and 44 of a possible 48 votes on the Executives ballot, are accountable. If every vote was cast, that leaves six votes for the four M&U candidates and four votes for the three Executives candidates who went indeterminately reported. So there's a good chance someone, or more than one, did get zero votes. I think it is irresponsible of the Hall not to specify those downballot returns, but I suppose it isn't that important. Maybe this "less than three votes" notation is a way of backhandedly indicating that these candidates won't be on the ballot again any time soon (and reviewing the seven names, I don't think this sort of unofficial relegation would be a bad thing, at least for one cycle of the ballots).

Congratulations to the five newest Hall Of Famers, of whom only Williams is alive to appreciate the honor. I supported Southworth and (wanly) O'Malley already, so those are, to me, sound selections. I have no real objections to the elections of Williams and Dreyfuss. And among my choices not elected, I feel little disappointment for Harvey, Murtaugh, Johnson, or Kauffman.

The election of Kuhn does nothing to improve the Hall's execution of its mission. His administration was lengthy and effected some good changes to the great game, but he had more liabilities than assets. The Hall was not a lesser repository and chronicler of baseball history without him.

The omission of Marvin Miller is a sore point, though I cannot summon genuine outrage because the composition of the voting committee was so obviously stacked against his candidacy. The Hall does suffer for Miller's absence; among off-field personnel, he is one of the two or three biggest influences across all of baseball history. Not honoring the person responsible for that sort of enormous impact is detrimental to the entire institution. Perhaps the Hall board, when appointing the voting committee for executives next time (2009), will take this into consideration and compose a more equitable electorate.

An update -- the Executives ballot was composed by the same committee members who ultimately voted on that ballot. The Hall hadn't made this readily apparent before, or if so I simply missed it. This strikes me as somewhat fishy (although the Hall can, and does, charter these things however it wants), as one thing the final vote does is shine brighter light on the election agenda of some subset of the committee -- the entire process appears to be for show. The Hall board should know better -- and in fact, it does -- and I'd rather not go down the pathway of conspiracies, but electing Kuhn does help pave the way for eventually electing sitting Commissioner Selig, and right now I'm not at all sure if I'd support his candidacy. But, no doubt, he's got friends. Such a two-iterative ballot process should use separate delegations.

The Hall's 2008 Writers Ballot -- Wrap-up

A link set so one can read the entire ballot review without a lot of scrolling down and up again.

The Hall's 2008 Writers Ballot
Introduction
Candidates Part 1 (Anderson, Baines, Beck, Blyleven, Concepcíon, Dawson)
Candidates Part 2 (Dunston, Finley, Fryman, Gossage, John, Justice)
Candidates Part 3 (Knoblauch, Mattingly, McGwire, Morris, Murphy, Nen)
Candidates Part 4 (Parker, Raines, Rice, Rijo, Smith, Stottlemyre, Trammell)

Chipmaker's votes: Blyleven, Gossage, McGwire, Murphy, Raines.

Predictions
Anderson -- below 5%, relegated.
Baines -- below 5%, relegated.
Beck -- below 5%, relegated.
Blyleven -- over 60%.
Concepcíon -- slightly over 20%, and his writers ballot candidacy expires.
Dawson -- over 68%.
Dunston -- below 5%, relegated.
Finley -- 9%.
Fryman -- below 5%, relegated.
Gossage -- 79%, and elected!
John -- around 25%.
Justice -- 6%.
Knoblauch -- below 5%, relegated.
Mattingly -- 14%.
McGwire -- 29%, but this is a complete guess. Has enough blood been spilled?
Morris -- 46%.
Murphy -- 15%.
Nen -- below 5%, relegated.
Parker -- 15%.
Raines -- 35%, though I hope I aimed low.
Rice -- over 70% but just not enough.
Rijo -- two votes, relegated.
Smith -- 45%.
Stottlemyre -- zero or one vote, relegated.
Trammell -- 19%.

That's it, baseball fans. The writers ballot results are announced Tuesday, January 8, at 2:00 pm Eastern. Check back then to see how we did.

The Hall's 2008 Writers Ballot -- The Player Candidates, Part 4

Finishing up the player candidates on the writers ballot.

19. Dave Parker

Years on ballot: 11.
Peak return: 24.5% (1998).
2007 return: 11.4%

Career: 19 seasons (1973-91) with the *Pittsburgh Pirates, Cincinnati Reds, Oakland Athletics, Milwaukee Brewers, California Angels, and Toronto Blue Jays.
Peak season: 1978 -- 102 runs, 194 hits, 32 doubles, 12 triples, 30 HR, 117 RBI, 20 stolen bases, .334/.394/.585, 166 OPS+, 134 RC.
Other outstanding seasons: 1975, 1977, 1979, 1985.
Primary position: right field, though he finished up (3 1/2 seasons) as a designated hitter.
Honoraria and claims to fame: seven All-Star selections (four starts), 1978 NL MVP, 1979 All-Star Game MVP, three NL Gold Gloves for Outfield, three Silver Sluggers (two NL for Outfield, one AL for DH), two NL batting championships, led the NL in slugging twice, hits once, RBI once. Member of two World Series champions, the 1979 Pirates and the 1989 Athletics.

Parker's peak was fantastic, but it was over quickly -- he fell off a cliff between 1979 and 1980, and except for one resurgent season (1985) never saw those heady heights again. Maybe it was the cocaine, which Parker was known to have a problem with at the time. The Cobra was, for those late-70s seasons, a stunningly powerful hitter, and if he deprived us the fans of seeing all he could have done because of drug abuse, well, I'm not very sympathetic. Bad choices can have bad consequences.

Parker is one of the few players, perhaps the only player, to win an All-Star Game MVP because of his defense. He made two brilliant throws from deep right field in 1979, nailing Rice at third trying to stretch a double, and Downing at home, who would have scored the go-ahead run. A sterling performance, but one game does not make a career Hall-class.

Very good fielder and, for a short time, a fantastic hitter. But the last 2/3 of his career was league average; when we should have been blown away, he blew it.

Utterly irrelevant to his Hall candidacy, but I've always loved this Sports Illustrated cover, the 09-April-1979 issue, with the defending MVPs standing back to back. Rice is a big guy, 6'2", and the way he is looking up at Parker was, to me, an indelible image. Rice is big, but Parker is huge.

Chipmaker's vote: No.

Prediction: 15%, but he's going nowhere.

20. Tim Raines

Writers ballot rookie.

Career: 23 seasons (1979-99, 2001-02) with the *Montréal Expos, Chicago White Sox, New York Yankees, Oakland Athletics, Baltimore Orioles, and Florida Marlins.
Peak season: 1987 -- 123 runs, 175 hits, 34 doubles, 18 HR, 68 RBI, 50 stolen bases (against five caught steals!), 90 walks, .330/.429/.526, 149 OPS+, 132 RC.
Other outstanding seasons: 1984, 1985, 1986, 1989, 1993.
Primary position: left field. Leadoff hitter.
Honoraria and claims to fame: seven All-Star selections (two starts), 1987 All-Star Game MVP, one NL Silver Slugger for Outfield, one NL batting championship, led NL in on-base percentage once, runs twice, stolen bases four times. Career 84.7% stolen base success rate is the highest for anyone with 300+ SB; 808 career SB ranks fifth all-time, with no one threatening passing any time soon. One of only two fathers to play alongside his son in a major league game (the other being Ken Griffey, Sr., and I'm not yet counting out Roger Clemens doing it). Member of the 1996 and 1998 World Series champion Yankees. Jersey #30 retired by the Expos.

Bonus baseball points: Raines was a coach for the 2005 World Series champion White Sox. There's only so much credit one can appoint to a coach, but he was there.

Esoteric baseball bonus points: Raines was the last active player (thanks to grandfathering players active before 1983) to wear a batting helmet without the ear flap. (Yes, Julio Franco is still active, but he has always worn flap-style helmets.)

Rock was one of the most brilliant leadoff men in baseball history, though it's hard to appreciate that since he played exactly contemporary with the greatest leadoff man in history, Rickey Henderson. His peak was masterful, and realize that his 1987 season didn't begin until May 2, since the Collusion conspiracy prevented him from signing elsewhere, and the silly re-signing regulations prevented him from returning to the Expos until May. But when he did, he picked right up and stormed the NL all season (Raines played 139 games). He had a long, slow decline, being a useful player for the rest of his career and an above-league average one for all but two seasons, one when he was suffering from lupus (and missed the next season altogether) and his last, tired gasp in Miami. Raines played like 93% of Henderson his entire career, and that definitely deserves the eternal bronze plaque.

Besides, Rock and Dawson are the last chances for an Expos cap logo to adorn a plaque.

Chipmaker's vote: Yes! And proud to cast it.

Prediction: Raines is a tough candidate to forecast. Some writers will like him, others will not (there's usually a small "never on the first ballot, never unanimous" faction), still others simply won't yet have seen the light. I think he gets elected eventually, but not this year, so I'll go with 35%, and I truly hope I've aimed low.

21. Jim Rice

Years on ballot: 13.
Peak return: 64.8% (2006).
2007 return: 63.5%

Career: 16 seasons (1974-89) with the *Boston Red Sox.
Peak season: 1978 -- 121 runs, 213 hits, 25 doubles, 15 triples (!), 46 HR, 139 RBI, .315/.370/.600, 406 total bases, 157 OPS+, 147 RC.
Other outstanding seasons: 1977, 1979, 1983, 1986.
Primary position: left field. Those who claim he DH'd a lot should know that he was a primary DH in only four seasons -- his little cuppa coffee in 1974; 1977, when he was injured; 1988, his last full season, and badly faded; and 1989, his last year, when he played only 56 games, or 1/3 of a season. He wasn't a great fielder -- league average, mainly -- but he was legitimately a fielder, playing LF for 3/4 of his career games.
Honoraria and claims to fame: eight All-Star selections (four starts), 1978 AL MVP, two AL Silver Sluggers for Outfield, led the AL in slugging twice, home runs three times, RBI twice, games played once (1978, the full 163 including the playoff game, still the AL record).

Rice had a great peak and fully deserved that MVP Award. In some ways it's not fair what happened to him -- the fast fade after age 33; the injury that kept him out of the 1975 postseason (what would the World Series have been like with Rice swinging away?); having to play one of the toughest fields in the majors, left in Fenway; following a Hall-class act, Yaz, who had his own Hall-class act to follow, Williams, so there was a tradition to uphold; that he was a shy, soft-spoken, black southern man in a very, even notoriously, white, northern city. No matter how much his bat said, the media wanted more.

I'm a Red Sox fan, and for all that Rice delivered, I still see more above-average to good performances (nice to have, certainly) than Hall-class great ones. Had he a longer, more graceful cruise to retirement; had the 1981 season been played in full; had he finished the 1975 season healthily... such what-ifs tantalize, but no credit can be given for things not done. Rice had a great peak and a good career, but it falls short for me.

Chipmaker's vote: No, and I'm not happy about it, but it is honest.

Prediction: with only two ballots left, Rice surpasses 70%, leaving a huge cliffhanger for the December 2008 ballot. Look for the Summer 2008 bestseller, Rice For The Hall?, co-written by Willie Makit and Betty Wont. (This is, yes, a very bad pun.) If the writers elect him, I will consider that a happy day, a plaque not only earned on the diamond, but also with agony throughout the electoral process.

22. Jose Rijo

Years on ballot: 1.
Peak return: 0.2% (2001).

Career: 14 seasons (1984-95, 2001-02) with the New York Yankees, Oakland Athletics, and *Cincinnati Reds.
Peak season: 1993 -- 14-9, 2.48, 227 K, 163 ERA+. And he hit a home run, one of only two in his career.
Other outstanding seasons: 1988, 1990, 1991, 1992, 1994.
Primary position: RH starting pitcher.
Honoraria and claims to fame: one All-Star selection. 1990 World Series MVP for an absolutely brilliant performance. Led NL in winning percentage once,WHIP once, strikeouts once. Member of the 1990 World Series champion Reds.

Rijo is an odd case. After he last played in the majors in 1995, he qualified and was selected for the December 2000 (2001 Induction) writers ballot, where he received one vote. He then made a comeback for two seasons, which has reset his Hall eligibility. Whether he is allowed another 14 years, counting off his one previous ballot appearance, or the full 15 restarted, is not to my knowledge a resolved question, but it is certainly an irrelevant one. Those two additional seasons were nothing to change more than a handful of opinions, if any. To his credit, he was absolutely masterful in the 1990 World Series against a frightfully strong Athletics team, and he sat them down with authority, allowing one run and nine hits in 15.1 innings as the Reds stunningly swept to the championship.

But we've already seen his Hall ballot destiny -- relegation, again.

Chipmaker's vote: No.

Prediction: two votes; relegation redux.

23. Lee Smith

Years on ballot: 5.
Peak return: 45.0% (2006).
2007 return: 39.8%

Career: 18 seasons (1980-97) with the *Chicago Cubs, Boston Red Sox, St. Louis Cardinals, New York Yankees, Baltimore Orioles, California Angels, Cincinnati Reds, and Montréal Expos.
Peak season: 1991 -- 6-3, 47 saves, 2.34, 67 K (to 13 walks), 157 ERA+.
Other outstanding seasons: 1982, 1983, 1987, 1988, 1990, 1994.
Primary position: RH relief pitcher / closer.
Honoraria and claims to fame: seven All-Star selections, three Rolaids Relief Awards (two NL, one AL), led NL in saves three times and AL once. Held the career record for saves from 1993, when he passed Reardon, to 2006, when Hoffman surpassed him, and Smith is still second all-time.

Smith was great fun to watch. When he trundled out of the bullpen and ambled toward the mound, he always gave the impression that he'd just woken up from a relaxing nap. He entered the game at his own lazy pace, but on the mound he was all business. He'd pound in that monster fastball, strike out a few guys, get his outs, end the game, and amble off toward the dugout.

And yet, he bounced around a lot, and it's not certain why this was. He didn't lose his stuff until his last, partial season with the Expos, though he'd lost his closer job the year before. Sometimes a reliever is just that bit more valuable as a trading chit than as an in-game pitcher, though some of the talent he was traded for suggests that his present team never valued him appropriately highly. He did his job and did it very well for a long time, in a role that is notorious for burning out even the best and toughest. Smith endured and excelled, and for that, he held the career record for well over a decade.

Coming off their 1986 AL championship and heartbreaking World Series, the 1987 Red Sox seemed brimming with promise, but it quickly fell apart. One reason -- there were many -- was the terrible bullpen. They picked up only 16 saves all season. The entire 1987 season was painful, outside of Clemens' starts. So when Smith was picked up over the winter, there was rejoicing; no longer would games be blown! I was in the Fenway bleachers that rainy Opening Day 1988, and when the relievers strolled out to the bullpen before the game, we gave Lee Arthur a standing ovation. He tipped his cap -- and later blew the game by serving up a tenth-inning HR to Alan Trammell, but we didn't care that much. Boston had a real, ace closer again, and (after that day) he delivered.

For all that, I'm not a big Smith proponent for the Hall. I could see him getting in, and the writers are sort-of leaning toward that someday, but right now there are better relievers (hint: Goose) waiting ahead of him. All good men in turn, I suppose. Right now, I let him wait, but with strong hopes.

Chipmaker's vote: No.

Prediction: 45%, but after Gossage gets in this time, he takes a bigger leap next year.

24. Todd Stottlemyre

Writers ballot rookie.

Career: 14 seasons (1988-2000, 2002) with the *Toronto Blue Jays, Oakland Athletics, St. Louis Cardinals, Texas Rangers, and Arizona Diamondbacks.
Peak season: 1991 -- 15-8, 3.78, 116 K, 112 ERA+.
Other outstanding seasons: 1998. It's pretty slim pickings, fans.
Primary position: RH starting pitcher.
Honoraria and claims to fame: Member of the 1992-93 World Series champion Blue Jays. Technically a member of the 2001 World Series champion Diamondbacks, but he was injured and on the DL the entire season. Son of Mel Stottlemyre.

sigh. I try to find positive things about everyone on the Hall ballot, and for most candidates that's pretty easy (and for some, the raft of accomplishments and honors needs to be edited judiciously). These men played the great game at the highest level; they were, at the minimum, good.

Todd Stottlemyre throws a huge wrench into that approach. The best -- really, the best -- that can be said about him is that he pitched pretty good innings totals. A team needs about 1400 IP a year, someone's gotta throw them, and Stottlemyre was good for 150-200 for the bulk of his seasons. Not especially good innings, mind you, but he'd get the outs eventually.

I cannot imagine what one or more nominators were thinking when they offered up this name, unless they were thinking more about his father, because aside from the name, there is nothing whatsoever to suggest a Hall-class career. I don't like to dismiss anyone as "ballot filler" but there's no other worthwhile conclusion here.

Chipmaker's vote: No.

Prediction: either zero or one vote, and relegated.

25. Alan Trammell

Years on ballot: 6.
Peak return: 17.7% (2006).
2007 return: 13.4%

Career: 20 seasons (1977-96) with the *Detroit Tigers.
Peak season: 1987 -- 109 runs, 205 hits, 34 doubles, 28 HR, 105 RBI, 21 stolen bases (against 2 caught steals), .343/.402/.551, 155 OPS+, 137 RC.
Other outstanding seasons: 1983, 1984, 1988, 1990, 1993.
Primary position: shortstop.
Honoraria and claims to fame: six All-Star selections, 1984 World Series MVP, four AL Gold Gloves for Shortstop, three AL Silver Sluggers for Shortstop. Member of the 1984 World Series champion Tigers.

Trammell no doubt was a very good player, but as a shortstop, he suffers in comparison to two of his contemporaries -- Ripken, who proved a big man could play short and was a better hitter, and Smith, who earned his nickname, The Wizard, for his sparkling defense. Trammell was more of a median, good at offense and defense but not as extreme as either of his HOFer peers, and so simply doesn't stand out. (Watch for Barry Larkin to run into this same scenario when he reaches the ballot in a few years.) Had as many below-league average seasons, offensively, as he did above-league average ones, though overall he ended up above. A nice peak for a shortstop, but not a brilliant one.

I'm torn, though from his ballot returns, the writers have not been. Trammell put up a very good career, but not a great one like the Hall seeks to honor. Servings of greatness leavened with equivalent amounts of mediocrity. Nothing here stands up and proclaims Hall-worthiness. I might change my mind next time, but for now, I go with the conservative, status-quo choice, and leave him out.

Chipmaker's vote: No.

Prediction: 19%, a new high, but not giving much hope to Tigers fans.

And that's it for the players on the writers ballot. A short summary will follow.