Edward J. Pluchar - The Blogsplitter

“NEW YORK (MarketWatch) — I predict that the Cubs will win the World Series — the 2008 World Series, that is. When a team hasn’t won its league championship in exactly 100 years, like the Cubs of Major League Baseball, you need to be specific.”

Didn’t he read my earlier blog post about fools in the financial industry muddying the waters of my baseball dreams?

Probably, and he references me and others (probably Chris and Fish) a little later…

“I am expecting the Cubs to beat the American League’s Los Angeles Angels in the World Series. Knowledgeable Cub fans, naturally, hate my guts for printing those words. [Editor's note: I HOPE YOU BURN ETERNALLY!] It’s nothing personal (in most cases) — it’s just business.

“You see, Cub fans are pessimists by nature. It freaks them out to hear someone proclaim that the Cubs are about to win the World Series. By saying it out loud, you have jinxed their heroes beyond repair. They are superstitious, bordering on pathological. Still, who can blame them? They’ve seen their beloved team go down in flames too many times.”

Well how nice of you to demonstrate some understanding of the situation - Doesn’t that make your sin more grievous?!?!

You know what, everybody - EVERYBODY - in the finance industry: I don’t care how the Cubs’ pursuit of (far from a guarantee, the baseball gods should hear me say) a World Series Championship touches down in the “real world,” or at least your world, which right now looks like it was a fantasy land stilted by lies and cunning until America finally noticed the cookies missing from the cookie jar. I don’t care that you realize you’re making a gaffe, and may have more or less reasonable excuses for doing so anyway. Let me put it to you this way…

I witnessed the Cubs fall apart against the Marlins despite incredible circumstances, my girlfriend (and now wife) and I broke up in the same year, and this year I’ve seen my investments in your stock market fall sharply. That last one doesn’t compare to the other two, so right away you are relieved of your need even to speak about either, and between the other two, (at the time, I must be careful to say), I could not tell the difference in the degree of my misery.

Careful now, or Cub fans will start taking sides in the stock market, and then the whole thing will collapse amid strange and inexplicable circumstances. Then we’ll see if you’re still smiling in your column portrait.

Once before I might have read it through, but a couple of days ago I finished reading the book of Genesis straight through.  In terms of length and density, this isn’t saying a lot, though the genealogies do become a little tedious.

That’s interesting, though.  If I kept reading, a long time from now I’d encounter the genealogies of Jesus, one of which leads back to Adam.  In spite of the unfamiliar names and the fact that reading a list isn’t usually a party-starter, I am fascinated by it when I take a step back.  Lines of succession must have been important to the ancient Jews for many reasons, terrifically important, and it’s a peek at our species seemingly in its youth.

It seems archaic to talk about who my father is, and who my father’s father is, and on back, and the children all these men begat.  Not to mention sexist, right?  (That’s another conversation, boy).  If we were to trace our lineage, we’d aim to link ourselves to someone important, which implicitly enriches our selves, whether we actually deserve it or not.  But there’s more, I think, though I’m not a scholar…

The genealogies in Genesis also trace the relationship between God and His chosen people.  When God introduces Himself as “The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob…,” I read God as saying, “I have been faithful to you for generations, and the great ones you link yourselves to were made great by Me.  You have the most remarkable relationship that anyone on earth can claim.”

For someone struggling to understand his relationship to God, this is a humble and elegant beginning.

This is a song by Harry Chapin, which is probably my second favorite of his songs. There are three sets of lines that I relish (and if you care to, I’d recommend listening to the song):

“And every year goes by like a tolling bell and it’s battered merchandise you sell, not well she can see. And though she’s heard it all a thousand times, couched in your attempted rhymes, she’ll march to your drum in time.”

“Sometimes words can serve me well and sometimes words can go to hell for all that they do. And for every dream that took me high there’s been a dream that’s passed me by, I know it’s so true.”

The bittersweetness really touches me. But my favorite set of lines…

“I can see myself it’s golden sunrise - Young boy, open up your eyes, it’s supposed to be your day. Now off you go horizon bound and you won’t stop until you’ve found your own kind of way.”

I’m not sure I can begin to explain why this line moves me, but I vividly imagine myself as a boy whose father has come to wake him with those words. And in the way Chapin phrases it, it’s almost as though I have the chance to spark my own awakening, to call myself to an adventure. (Much of this is due, I think, to the fact that Chapin uses the song to reflect on his own youth and passage into adulthood).

I napped yesterday and when I woke, I was conscious enough to let those words into my bloodstream, and it was the most pleasant waking I’ve had in a while.

For now.

I have two locations scouted out for playoff games, so I should be set.  Put the kids to bed!

My chair has an air leak.  It is currently nonfunctional.

O, if I felt good enough to say I was only depressed!

But seriously, Joe made the very good (I think) suggestion that I use those kits for flat tires to fill the hole(s), and then re-inflate.  Since I doubt I can get my money back, and since the pressure in this chair is not comparable to a car tire, I suspect this could work.

More later.

My regular chair sucks.

This guy started with a red paperclip and kept trading up until he had a house. Just took him 14 trades.

[Update:  Apparently this is old news, and Adam Sikora wasn't the only one to say so.  Nevertheless, let's marvel in the fact that it's STILL cool.]

“There’s bitter disappointment, and then there’s what the Cubs do to me.”  - Adam Fischer

As can be heard from the land where hats are never worn straight and people layer the clothing on their heads, “Holla.”

This video isn’t hilarious, but it’s funny. Unintentionally funny, of course.

Here’s my list of problems with and suggestions for this video to be taken more seriously:

1) Get a cooler dude, even if he’s faking the astrophysics background.

2) Try a little harder to convince me that you’re calculating the kind of collision that might occur between two galaxies and yet you don’t know where our solar system will be in relation to the impact.

3) Maybe the time for this report just isn’t right - You tell me the end of the galaxy is coming one day, when Andromeda collides with the Milky Way - in 3 billion years. I still am in no hurry to go streaking at a Major League baseball game.

4a) Speaking of #2 - Try a little harder to convince me that freezing to death is a much better scenario than boiling to death. Apparently the best case scenario is that we’ll be tossed off into space, away from the collision, and the worst case is that we’ll be thrown between two black holes merging into one. I don’t really imagine a difference in the amount of pain my body might feel.

4b) Furthermore, does anyone really need a computer to determine that life on Earth will probably be completely exterminated? Or was everyone waiting anxiously for Dubinski to compare our planet to a piece of burnt bread?

5) Fake fireworks to demonstrate supernovas?

6) Seriously, you went with Dubinski as your one and only authority?