The Wheels on the Bus Go 'Round and 'Round
Here’s the promised update…
Friday consisted heavily of our (boop_a_do and I) trip to Arlington for the baseball game. The game itself was enjoyable enough, but not an enthralling affair by any stretch. I’d decided to pull for the ‘Stros; they kept it relatively close for about seven innings, but walking a batter with three men on base is one of the surest ways to go home on the losing end.
Before any of that, of course, was…the trip. A crowded charter-bus ride which, on the way there, featured a showing of ¡Three Amigos! thanks to the multi-monitor DVD system. (Clearly, minivan-riding toddlers have no longer cornered the market on movie-induced motion-sickness.) We struggled to sit comfortably in the narrow seats of our speeding coach, and to make sporadic polite conversation with our fellow travelers.
We arrived at Ameriquest Field about two and a half hours after leaving Austin, far faster than I’ve ever made it to the DFW area. For the most part, I managed to ignore my underlying irk at George W. Bush’s seedy history with this particular sports venue…until, much later during the game. A stadium-monitor display gave us the following response from a Rangers player, asked which four people he’d have over for dinner given the chance:
"Jesus Christ, George W. Bush, Davy Crockett, and Sophia Loren. The first three I’d like to model my life after, and the fourth, well..(snicker)"
Great googily moogily. I came to the ballpark to forget --- at least temporarily --- about depressing things like, say, W’s frightening and ever-expanding Cult of Personality...and here it was in hundred-foot-tall living color. (boop_a_do’s response to our bullnecked ballplayer? "Lay off the ‘roids, dude.")
The stadium had yet another through-the-looking-glass moment up its sleeve: A visit to one of the concession stands to purchase a soda (which, thankfully considering its obscenely inflated price, was comped with vouchers) revealed that flimsy plastic drinking straws are now considered weapons, at least by the fine folks who run Ameriquest Field. Silly as it sounded, I’d probably have swallowed that reasoning right along with my soda…had it not occurred to me that the foot-long plastic margarita containers, hawked incessantly by vendors in the stands, were accompanied by foot-long black heavy-plastic straws. In Rangers-ville, flimsy soda straws are potential weapons of ballpark destruction, but larger, firmer straws --- served with alcohol, for the love of Billy Martin --- are just hunky dory. Irony may not be dead, but she’s sure not feeling well…
Sucker for clichés that I am, though, I did have peanuts and Cracker Jack™.
There was, however, the highlight of the postgame fireworks show. Loud, directly overhead and lasting a good 45 minutes, I have to say I was impressed; there were dazzling patterns and flashes I’d actually never seen before, and I’ve seen more fireworks displays than I can count. I managed to snag a small video clip of it, although I missed recording the more impressive blasts.
The ride home took considerably longer than the first leg; C was even more uncomfortable than before, and my mp3-player’s earbuds couldn’t compete with the blasting sounds of 24 - Season One. (I knew I should have grabbed a Star Wars DVD before we left…)
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Saturday was relatively unremarkable, but Sunday saw us finally watching Revenge of the Sith. Review and related musings to come...
Friday consisted heavily of our (boop_a_do and I) trip to Arlington for the baseball game. The game itself was enjoyable enough, but not an enthralling affair by any stretch. I’d decided to pull for the ‘Stros; they kept it relatively close for about seven innings, but walking a batter with three men on base is one of the surest ways to go home on the losing end.
Before any of that, of course, was…the trip. A crowded charter-bus ride which, on the way there, featured a showing of ¡Three Amigos! thanks to the multi-monitor DVD system. (Clearly, minivan-riding toddlers have no longer cornered the market on movie-induced motion-sickness.) We struggled to sit comfortably in the narrow seats of our speeding coach, and to make sporadic polite conversation with our fellow travelers.
We arrived at Ameriquest Field about two and a half hours after leaving Austin, far faster than I’ve ever made it to the DFW area. For the most part, I managed to ignore my underlying irk at George W. Bush’s seedy history with this particular sports venue…until, much later during the game. A stadium-monitor display gave us the following response from a Rangers player, asked which four people he’d have over for dinner given the chance:
"Jesus Christ, George W. Bush, Davy Crockett, and Sophia Loren. The first three I’d like to model my life after, and the fourth, well..(snicker)"
Great googily moogily. I came to the ballpark to forget --- at least temporarily --- about depressing things like, say, W’s frightening and ever-expanding Cult of Personality...and here it was in hundred-foot-tall living color. (boop_a_do’s response to our bullnecked ballplayer? "Lay off the ‘roids, dude.")
The stadium had yet another through-the-looking-glass moment up its sleeve: A visit to one of the concession stands to purchase a soda (which, thankfully considering its obscenely inflated price, was comped with vouchers) revealed that flimsy plastic drinking straws are now considered weapons, at least by the fine folks who run Ameriquest Field. Silly as it sounded, I’d probably have swallowed that reasoning right along with my soda…had it not occurred to me that the foot-long plastic margarita containers, hawked incessantly by vendors in the stands, were accompanied by foot-long black heavy-plastic straws. In Rangers-ville, flimsy soda straws are potential weapons of ballpark destruction, but larger, firmer straws --- served with alcohol, for the love of Billy Martin --- are just hunky dory. Irony may not be dead, but she’s sure not feeling well…
Sucker for clichés that I am, though, I did have peanuts and Cracker Jack™.
There was, however, the highlight of the postgame fireworks show. Loud, directly overhead and lasting a good 45 minutes, I have to say I was impressed; there were dazzling patterns and flashes I’d actually never seen before, and I’ve seen more fireworks displays than I can count. I managed to snag a small video clip of it, although I missed recording the more impressive blasts.
The ride home took considerably longer than the first leg; C was even more uncomfortable than before, and my mp3-player’s earbuds couldn’t compete with the blasting sounds of 24 - Season One. (I knew I should have grabbed a Star Wars DVD before we left…)
---
Saturday was relatively unremarkable, but Sunday saw us finally watching Revenge of the Sith. Review and related musings to come...