The Baseball Trip 2011 / Day 9

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Heading home.

Haven't had a root beer float yet so we must stop...

Bulldog Dairy Bar, somewhere in Indiana

Also, along the way, a claw car tearing up railroad ties:

...seems like this country has come full-circle.

Random observation from Randy:
Don't go down that road. No way I'm going to Akron.

Favorite signs:
The Lube: All You Can Eat Buffet
Grampa's Cheese Barn

Favorite Town Names:
Defiance, OH
Ruggles, OH

Final Tally:
Cash for Gold: 12
Shirtless Drivers: 2 (just an Indiana thing?)

And oh by the way: we did see two Grand Opening signs:
One was an insurance agency (go figure).
One was a bagel shop.


Nine states, thirty-five hundred miles, give or take.
Somehow, this sums it up: sign on the back of a truck in Ohio:
"Non-edible meat product. Not for human consumption."

Then what the hell is it?


What did we just see? A network of back roads and local folk, struggling farms and failing businesses but people determined not to give in throw what you want at us we can take it we still have our gardens and courthouses and ice cream shops and high school football games and high school sweethearts. Some of us are gone now and couldn't manage but most of us are still here, maybe just a shadow of our yester-selves some still working in the mill planting wheat pounding fenders carrying children across the parking lots some still walking hand in hand she still loves him and he still worships her and maybe they steal a kiss in the late afternoon. Maybe it's a waitress hell-bent on making sure you've had enough coffee. Maybe it's the college professor sharing his road stories travelling the U.S. on job interviews, finally found a job somewhere after two years out of work and saw the time as a blessing, he could be with his family. Maybe it's the lady who waved at us just because.

The Baeball Trip Blogs are dedicated to Shannon Jung, my niece and long-time pen pal.

The Baseball Trip 2011 / Day 8

Monday, July 25, 2011

Random observation from Randy:
Today is a Beatles day.

As we wind our way through hills and valleys to the Allegheny National Forest, we listen to Revolver, then Sgt. Pepper, then Magical Mystery Tour, and finally, Abbey Road. Perfect music for one of the most perfect drives on Earth. There are a couple of State Forests on the way as well. Climbing into the hills a storm blows up on us, high winds sideways rain. The elevation and the weather system combine to drop the temperature 23 degrees in about fifteen minutes. When the rain halts it's only two lane blacktop, tall pines and cool breezes.

But the Gods aren't done with us; yet another storm blows up winds rocking the car trees down driving on the left shoulder to pass wipers rocking overtime just to see ten feet in front of you. Take shelter. Sweden Valley is a nice little township and we stop for lunch at the Jiffy Pup to wait out the rain. Jiffy Pup is a hot dog stand/mini golf emporium at the bottom of the valley with a nice roofed porch, and we eat cheeseburgers and fried fish with a chocolate milk shake and watch the lightning fade out over the hills.

Hey! What's this? Why it's Granny's Motel! I have no idea what that means, but it's some kinda home for the homeless or what-not. Disenfranchised? Feeling like you don't have a friend in the whole wide world? Stay at Granny's, where you got a home.

Granny, orphan, and me. The fact that someone stole/chopped the head off the little girl's doll makes this especially pathetic. Also, is that really a girl?  More like a mutant Charlie McCarthy. There is something freakishly awful about this, but then I think that, somehow, someone found refuge here.

The forest has a history of over-hunting and over-foresting. Also: much of Pennsylvania's crude oil comes from mineral rights owned by individuals within the forest boundaries. They'll warn the campers to conserve water, respect the flora and fauna, and, oh yeah, watch out for trucks barreling down the highway. One such overloaded hulk slipped into the left lane (of an unmarked road we decided to explore), hurtled into the surrounding hillside, came back down into the road and slammed into another truck knocking them both wrong-side up. We had to turn around and go back out the way we travelled in. The other trucks weren't so lucky: they had to back out in reverse for a mile and a half.

The forest dumps out just southeast of Erie, Pa, our baseball destination for the day. The Erie Seawolves, a Double-A affiliate of the Detroit Tigers, plays here at Jerry Uht Park. You're asking, who is Jerry Uht? I know I did. He established an endowment to support the team and they named the stadium after him. But what about the mascot? His name is C. Wolf. Get it?

C. Wolf and Alex.

Again, I'm not sure why I seek out the mascots. I believe it is some perverted compulsion to challenge my fears, much like G. Gordon Liddy facing his fear of lightning by climbing a tree in the middle of a fierce electrical storm. So I pose with this heavily sedated, overgrown cartoon character. Notice the look of apprehension in my eyes.

Jerry Uht Park

Also, here's a dramatic shot of our home plate umpire calling a strike on some unfortunate minor-leaguer. Umpires want to make the big show, too.

Look, it's Enrico Pallazzo!

Favorite town name:  Shamokin, PA

Favorite sign: Stuff For Sale

Tomorrow: home.



The Baseball Trip 2011 / Day 7

Sunday, July 24, 2011

The plan is to drive through six states in one day. Leaving Massachusetts, into Rhode Isalnd, across Connecticut, north of New York City, cut a diagonal across northern New Jersey and into Allentown, Pennsylvania.  You can do that sort of thing if you start in New England.

Breakfast at Margots Restaurant (no apostrophe), an old-fashioned diner in the middle of a modern strip mall. Good thing she got large billing on the sign. No air conditioning, but about 17 fans. Poached eggs on hash-browns with linguica (soft c, I learned), a spicy sausage that I'd never heard of. But it was good. Too bad the coffee was a little burnt.

It took a while, but we made it. A leisurely ride: father and daughter in their Sunday-go-to-meetin' clothes walk up the drive to the First Presbyterian Church, lady in a black dress walking a black dog, men drinking coffee reading the Boston Globe or some other major paper. Weekenders driving back from the Hamptons with kayaks and bicycles strapped to the hoods causing all sorts of backups on the highways.

Our ultimate destination is Allentown, Pennsylvania, to see the Lehigh Valley Iron Pigs (that's right, they are the Iron Pigs. I don't know what that is.) Ryne Sandburg, former Cub great, is their manager. Our ride is so leisurely, in fact, that we don't arrive at the ballpark untill the fifth inning. I wanted to know what an Iron Pig was, but I was afraid to ask the locals. I decided to seek out the mascot. His name is Ferris (get it? ferrous: iron), but I couldn't find him anywhere. So I did the next best thing: I found his woman. That's right, he has a mate: Fifi. I've noticed that most minor league ballclubs provide their mascots with a female counterpart. Here is a picture of Fifi and me that some nice people took for me:

Fifi, the female Iron Pig.

She looks totally disinterested in me.

Random observation from Randy:
"She has a look as if to say, Why did I take this job?"

But there you have it. I think mascots are creepy and evil, and most of them look tranquilized.

Anyway, here's the ballpark:

Coca-Cola Ballpark in Allentown, PA.

Next stop, Erie, Pennsylvania.

Favorite Town Names:

Woonsocket, RI

Foul Rift, NJ

Southeast, NY

Random observation from Randy about Southeast:

"I think the founding fathers were tired when they named the town."

Favorite signs:

Beer Event Tomorrow!

Space Farmers Camp and Zoo

Visit the Havershaw Brick Museum

The Baseball Trip 2011 / Day 6

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Boston promises to be somewhat cooler, maybe only 95 for a high.

Random observation from Randy:
"I think I left my brain in a puddle in Little Italy. I'm going to put up signs in this hotel saying, 'Have you seen my brain?'"

On the way, more giant things. The Merritt-Wilkes Carhart work clothes store has a big steer out front in their yard, and he's wearing overalls:

Big steer with overalls

Favorite signs: 
Aroma Restaurant
Affordable Bankruptcy

Favorite towns:
Stormville, NY
Webatuck, NY

Since we have time, we take the scenic route through Connecticut: Homes with new age naive art wooden stars on the siding, wishing well mailboxes, wrap around porches. Boston is an easy in and easy out, at least, easier than last time all one way streets too narrow to navigate congested, claustrophobic. The only way in to Fenway park is through your wallet, cheapest seats are $55.00. But we splurged, having saved about two thousand dollars by passing up the Yankee game. Fenway is quaint, archaic, a throwback. But if people want to call Wrigley Field a dump, there's no need to consider Fenway a shrine. They're both old and decrepit. Tear them down and save the signature features. How many people have I just angered? Sorry.

The standing room area along the back wall offers a cool breeze. We do not melt like butter if we stay here.

Boston wins, 3-1. The Seattle Mariners lose their 14th straight game, which ties a franchise record.

The Green Monster at Fenway.

Outside Fenway.

Blocked-off streets adjacent to the park.

That night we camp and find dry wood. The fire lasts a while and the temperature dips to 80. The demons from the day before disappear slowly.

The Baseball Trip 2011 / Day 5

Friday, July 22, 2011

104 degrees in New York City

Oh I have seen things; otherworldly demon heat seeps up through the pavement vaporizing pedestrians in mid-step, vanished, Rapture -like; old Chinese man whirling, dancing for atonement yelling, "It's hot out, it's hot out;" girls in pink hair and cowboy boots like Annie Oakley on acid; possessed woman on the street corner with a toilet plunger in her hands plunging at people in the crosswalk, stabbing with the plunger between the shoulder blades like she was sucking the soul out of you; the sweat in your eyes, stinging, visions in Times Square not really what you see in the digital billboards devils appear in brilliant color; young man motionless, standing in the subway car in a t-shirt, hat and pins that all read "Free Hugs" but no one takes him up on it, no one, they see the look in his eyes, like he knows something, knows the end of days is here but I ask for my free hug as I step out of the train and he obliges and we embrace and he smiles and I tell him it's okay, it's okay, you can finally go home now and be with your family, prepare with them. This is the end of the line, the last stop. All passengers must exit.

It was indeed a hellish day in NYC as we travel back into the city over another hundred bridges. The plan is to walk the city and then see the Yankees that night. We park near Yankee Stadium (all-day parking, $35.00) and take the subway to Grand Central Station. It's already 100 degrees by 11:00am. The subway is air-conditioned and offers respite from the heat. After checking out the station we stop at the Kosher Deli for a tuna fish sandwich and Dr. Brown's Cream Soda. After lunch, we walk. Times Square, 42nd Street, Fifth Avenue.

Chrysler Building

Grand Central Station

 

Times Square

We take the subway again, farther south. Back above ground in Greenwich Village, through Soho, The Bowery, Chinatown, Little Italy. Four bottles of water are not enough to save us, Wall Street is way too far, we pass, we do not visit Ground Zero or The Explorers Club. Maybe some other, less life threatening time.

Chinatown

Yankee Stadium, The Bronx

The subway ride back to The Bronx is suffocating, Yankee fans jam the train all elbows and knees in your back the air conditioning resigns, gives up, the sweat rolling down your neck and dripping on other people's shoes. No way we go to the game. 104 degrees at game time, 120 on the playing surface, $150.00 per ticket. No thank you. Ride out, just go, just get the hell going. Dinner at the I-84 diner, the diner on crack.

Random 0bservation from Randy:

"I'm thinking we shouldn't pay $300.00 to sit in our own sweat. It isn't safe."

Favorite sign:               Greenhouse: Closed for the Summer

Favorite City Names:  Suffern, NY

                                      New City, NY

Back at the Ramada that night, the lounge is jumpin' wedding party revelers up late disco ball and a bartender looking very Tony Manero makes time with the girls. Another hell, another set of visions.

The Baseball Trip 2011 / Day 4

Thursday, July 21, 2011.

We ride into NYC via the George Washington Bridge. It's an $8.00 toll, but no one is manning the toll booth in our lane! A toll worker waves us through without cost. O! Luckiest of men!  On this day we will cross no less than 4 toll bridges, a small one-laner that costs a dollar to cross and three larger, more expensive bridges: The GW, the Whitestone, and the Throggs Neck Bridges. It's like they built this city on a series of islands or something.

Random observation from Randy:
"This will be a good day. My grits at breakfast were perfect."

New York City is giant tangled mass of humanity, combustion engines, bridges and noise. It is loud, boisterous, and thoroughly enticing. Engines are loud, voices are loud. It is the only place in America where I've heard this at a ballpark: "Give me three knishes."  And it has two ballparks. This will take more than one day.

Oh boy! it's 95 degrees at 11:00 am. Hydrate, ask an usher for help if you start to feel bad. Seek out areas of shade. The Mets oblige with a quick 2 hour and 11 minute game. Unfortunately, they lost to the St. Louis Cardinals after beating them three straight games. The last time we saw the Mets play, it was the longest 9 inning game in their history. This time, it's the shortest game we've ever witnessed.

More Giant Things:

The big apple in The Big Apple.

They saved the big apple from Shea Stadium when they tore it down and stuck it in front of Citi Field. Random observation from Randy: "It looks like a big tomato. It's not an apple."

After the game we took a walk into Flushing Meadows, the site of the 1964 World's Fair. It was only 97 degrees, so it was ok. I took a picture of the Unisphere, so you could see what a giant metal globe in topographical relief looks like.

Unisphere, Flushing Meadows Corona

It only took us 3 hours to get 20 miles out of town. The temperature at 6:00 pm reaches 100 degrees. A man of Eastern European descent (dissent?) took exception to my lane change and said something nasty to me after he went out of his way to pull right up next to me. "Oh yeah?" I said, "Well I don't even understand what you said, so there." I showed him.

Random observation from Randy:
"Home of the Chocolate Goat. You've probably wondered about that before, and now you know where he lives."

The highway follows the Hudson River north away from the city and into tourist towns like Sleepy Hollow and Tarrytown with quaint little tourist shoppes like English Tin Tea House and Great Expectations Wine Tasting and Sales. Tourists stagger across the highway without regard to traffic and stumble into You Pay Half and Thomas' Tees and Dominic's Family Pizza.

Favorite town name: Fishkill, NY.......where we find a hotel.
Favorite sign: Air Conditioned

Tomorrow - the fabled Yankees.

The Baseball Trip 2011 / Day 3

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Looking for a decent diner for breakfast and we find it: Dean's Diner just outside of Blairsville, PA. Randy was happy because they had homemade pie. We knew that because their sign proudly said so. There was even an arrow to show us how to find them.

I'm not all that big on pie; both Randy and the waitress insult me and make me feel shame.

After beakfast, we roll east on 22 through Pennsylvania hill country firewood stacked mountain-high sheltered under blue tarps weighted down with old tractor tires, satellite dishes out front of the farm houses prettied up with a ring of geraniums or impatiens, feed sales and tillers, seeders and irrigation sprinklers, crumbling remnants of a Lutheran Church and the cows wallow in shallow mud holes under the only tree in the field. Houses in the valley towns are tiered in layers separated by narrow streets and lean forward impossibly holding on to their foundations.

Neil Young's On The Beach and his countrified American Stars and Bars carries us to our next campsite, Dingman, PA on the Delaware River. We are just across the way from New Jersey, and soon New York City. Today was merely a travel day; no game tonight.

Like most of the country, it is hot and getting hotter.

Favorite town names:

• Nanty Glo, PA
• Geeseyville, PA

Favorite signs:

• Worship in Charles Park: Bring Your Own Lawn Chair
• Gun Raffle Tonight
• Bean Soup Encampment

Random observation from Randy:
"Lost Creek, 9 miles. If we find it, do I get a prize?"

Next: New York City...the Mets and the Yankees.