A piece of me died

This past weekend, I made a terribly long overdue visit back up to Virginia to visit my family.  After my dad had picked me up from the airport, I suggested that we go out to eat so that we could have some awkward father-son time together.  Ultimately, we ended up going to a Korean joint for jajangmyeon, but on the way there, I could help but feel tempted to suggest the Old Country Buffet that was also on the route to the Korean restaurant, for old time’s sake.

It’s a good thing that such did not come to fruition, otherwise my dad would have witnessed his grown son shed tears – it was closed, permanently.  And as of March of this year, no less.

I knew that OCBs and their parent company were in trouble, because I remember reading posts back in February that documented the company’s financial struggles.  Subsequently, I remember being relieved when the Fairfax OCB was not on the original list of 74 underperfoming restaurants that faced the corporate axe.

Clearly, this is around the time I kind of fell off the internet grid, fell behind in the news, and went dark to the happenings of the world.  Despite surviving the first round of cuts, round two came an abrupt month later, and then all OCBs, as well as affiliate buffet restaurants were all subsequently closed down, with most notably, the Fair City Mall location, that upon its departure, takes a piece of me with it, to the commercial afterlife.

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Catching up with stories

During my weekend alone, I think I made it kind of clear that I wasn’t feeling too great, emotionally.  Catching up on writing about things kind of helped, but along the way, in between posts written, I found myself getting distracted.  I would check Facebook or play a League of Legends match, and then I’d chastise myself for squandering the opportunity of time that I had, and that I shouldn’t be wasting time doing what I could do at other times.

This was Saturday afternoon.  Since then, I haven’t played any League, and I closed Facebook everywhere; my browser, the tabs on both my iPhone and iPad, and on my other laptop.  More than anything, I think not looking at social media has been something cathartic and the forced separation something of a good thing.  What started as an evening became a day, and then it’s become several days, and at the time I’m writing this, I still haven’t checked Facebook.

The funny thing is how many times I’ve had to stop myself from almost doing so, especially over my phone, while I’m at work, in between assignments, or those fleeting moments where I want to not be doing work, catch my breath and see what’s going on elsewhere in the world.  I’ve frantically forced quit the app numerous times since then.  Eventually, I’ll check again, once routine settles back down.

But the time not spent playing League or looking at social media and thinking about either, I’ve actually, not surprisingly, been somewhat productive, in a manner of speaking; by catching up with stories.  And not “stories” as in hicks talking about television shows per say, although I am talking about some television shows; but if it weren’t for the fact that I finished reading one book, then I’d basically have entitled this whole thing “catching up on movies and shows.”

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I’m rooting for David Ross this year

It’s funny how my sports allegiances change throughout the years.  There was a time when I was all aboard the Red Sox bandwagon, and was clinging on every at-bat and pitch in the 2004 playoffs.  I used to detest the Houston Astros because they kept knocking the Braves out of the playoffs, and Roger Clemens pitched for them, but now I don’t have any gripe with them at all.  There was once a time where I loathed the Chicago Cubs, and rooted vehemently for the St. Louis Cardinals to win the World Series.  One thing, however I don’t think stands much chance at changing, and that’s that I still detest the San Francisco Giants.

However, I’m warming up to the Cubs lately.  Now, I’ll still be pulling for the Braves, ironically, since this is the last year at Turner Field, but the reality is that they’re just as likely to lose 90, and hopefully 100+ this season, no matter how much I may or may not want them to do well when I go to see them.  And so since it’s actually nice to have a team to pull for that actually has a chance at doing well, I think if there’s any team out there that I might root for on the side, it might just be the Cubs.

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New beginnings, circa 2016

I don’t often brog about my career.  I sparsely use names, unless it’s in the past and has been for a while, and I deliberately keep things kind of vague, because I’m a fairly private person in spite of being a regular brogger, and I’m often paranoid that because the world is a fucked up place full of fucked up psychopaths, keeping things ambiguous might be an effective manner to maintain some privacy.  Furthermore, I have a tendency to keep particular thoughts about work close to the heart, since I don’t imagine there’s much good about venting about the people that pay me so that I can live my life, on the internet.

I’m leaving my job.

I’m starting a new one immediately afterward.  To those of my six readers doing the math, that means that I spent but seven months with my former job before jumping ship and seeking greener pastures.

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Koreans don’t get respect in baseball

Impetus: Chan Ho Park not included in 2016 Hall of Fame . . . ballot

Let’s be clear here, in no way do I feel that Chan Ho Park is worthy of being enshrined in the National Baseball Hall of Fame (HOF) based on his statistical numbers.  No, I love Chan Ho Park since he’s a Korean guy playing my favorite sport, but it doesn’t change the fact that he wasn’t exactly Greg Maddux or Randy Johnson legendary, and doesn’t have the statistical achievements in order to make it in.

In that regard, the HOF is at least consistent on its demand that only the truly best players get in, and they weigh statistical evidence above pretty much everything else.  However, small as they may be, there are some other variables that are considered when it comes to players’ chances at Cooperstown; otherwise Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa would all already be in the HOF, but their connections with performance-enhancing drugs have basically black-listed them and their gaudy career numbers from enshrinement, as long as ultimately, old-thinking baseball writers association of America (BBWAA) are in charge of keeping the gates.

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Remembering Tommy Hanson

In short: former Major League Baseball pitcher Thomas J. “Tommy” Hanson passes away at the age of 29, due to “catastrophic organ failure.”

Talk about something that came out of nowhere; it’s not often that I expect to hear about spontaneous deaths from people much younger than I am. And in spite of my faltering indifference to the game over the last few years, I’d like to write some words about Tommy Hanson, because if anything at all, he represents a player that was pretty prevalent during my peak of baseball fandom, and I’m genuinely sad to hear about his unfortunate and way too early departure.

Forget about the win-loss record, the ERA, and the list of teams that he had played for in his career, that one might expect to see within the final paragraphs of a professional athlete’s online eulogy and/or obituary. This isn’t to say that they weren’t pretty, quite the contrary, his overall numbers were positive and respectable, despite the obvious observation that he was declining quickly, mostly on account of shoulder troubles that plagued the tail end of his baseball career.

To me, Tommy Hanson represents the link, the gateway, into my eventual love and appreciation for minor league baseball.

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Today is a special kind of day

A year ago today, at like 4:30 in the morning, I asked a particular girl if she’d be willing to give a doofy guy with no game like me a shot.  She must have been groggy and discombobulated by the time of the day, because she miraculously agreed.

For all the times I’ve mentioned the mythical girlfriend, there’s still a thin veil of secrecy, because I’m generally a private person who typically tries to keep my brog relevant to me, not because I’m trying to be narcissistic and deny others any sort of spotlight, but mostly because I’m not going to assume that everyone in my little world will be okay with me throwing out their names and pictures on the internet.

But a guy that looks and acts like me, should want to boast a little bit, especially when he’s somehow able to dupe and deceive a pretty girl into getting stuck into a relationship with him.  That being said, if there was ever a time where I felt like pulling the veil back a just a little bit, today seems about as good as any.

The mythical girlfriend and I, at Disney World; look, she actually exists!

And for whatever reason, a year later, she’s (voluntarily) still around, much to my confusion.  <3