Letting the wild rumpus start.

My father got tickets to the Wild Things game, as part of his ISP's user appreciation night, so I did my second tour of duty out to the game. No rainstorm this time, thankfully. A couple more notes on MINOR league baseball in Washington. First of all, I found where all the 8-ounce cups went from yesterday's stories. They're now serving a rehab assignment in the minors as part of the "free hot dog, chips and a drink" package the ISP put together. You get what you pay for. From the "blatant displays of nepotistic power" file: My uncle was also at the game, and somehow managed to get his grandson (who was up from Alabama) to be part of the first pitch ceremonies. Welcome to Washington County, folks. Along those same lines, apparently every political figure in the county up for election this fall was stumping at the game. Nothing like a showing how you moved money out of your political pork ladlings to back a winner to really excite the voters. I also had a troika of unfortunate experiences. First, when the first quarter score of the Steelers game was announced, the boos started. I seriously think if Steelers fans didn't have controversy to make at the most minimal provocation, they'd have to make it up themselves. (Actually, the Kordell in Schenley Park rumor pretty much cements that idea.) Second, about four rows down from me, I discovered that several of my former high school teachers were having a girls' night out. Is there anything more disturbing than seeing people whose purpose in your life was to act as adult as possible, performing emotionally like teenagers? Probably, but not at that moment. Third, I'll just give you this conversation verbatim. Your setup: The batter has just stepped out of the box, and is waiting for signals from the 3rd base coach, who is furiously gesticulating. The PA speakers begin to play.
"That isn't....Oh, good grief that's extra cold. [laughter] Divinyls, that's just mean."
"What's so funny, Dwight?"
"Oh, um...I can't really explain it, Mom." I crumple back down sheepishly.

My mother, incidentally, can channel the whole Dilbert's Mom vibe way too easily.

Now, three weird bits from this Pirates game I'm watching: First, at the end of the fourth, the Pirates line score: 4R-4H-4E. Second, they're advertising something called Cheese Fest during the next homestand. Third, Steve Blass just termed Pirate pitcher Jimmy Anderson's performance during this game as "maybe it's some kind of male bump and grind." If you've ever seen Jimmy Anderson, you know I'm now scarred for life.

A couple odd bits in the news:
Somehow, the last thing I figured would be the UN model for the 21st century would have been MTV and Powerball. Two stories showing the UN considering use of soap operas and lotto.

And two good old crazy dictator stories:
Which is worse: Qaddafi or Daniel Snyder?
Saparmurat Niyazov: Soon to go dead catall over your Central Asian Dictator bonuses. If he keeps this up, he will make the leap. Especially if he gets press coverage like this:
"Mr Niyazov, who was attending Turkmenistan's annual People's Council, also said he wants to call the month of April 'Mother'." Wacky proclamations, and working out Oedipal issues... This guy's bringing the A game. It used to be in the Central Asian dictator game, it was Nazarbayev, Nazarbayev, and Nazarbayev. But I'd look over my shoulder if I were Nursultan. Why am I channeling Dick Vitale here? Related story.