Coffee shops and such

My wife and I have begun a new tradition: the weekend coffee shop run. Not that we run in and out, but we go in, pick our poison (iced skim latte with hazelnut, today), sit down, and relax. My wife grabs a book to read and uses her iPod shuffle, while I pull out the Mac PowerBook and my iPod.

My brother claims we are "Apple yuppies" at this point. I suppose he is right.

This is one of the highlights of our weekends. The coffee shop we frequent, Dunn Bros Coffee uses an old farmhouse as its structure, and it is a very comfortable place to sit and read/browse internet.

I highly recommend this for anyone, although try to find someplace that has free internet (this does not include Starbucks). Go for an hour or two.

An Ode to "Old Busch"

No, not to old beer (I have heard Busch is really, really bad anyways).

But to the stadium.

A column in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch by Jeff Gordon (one of my favorite writers) really stuck it to me. This stadium is going to be obliterated. I am sure the new ballpark (aptly named "Busch Stadium," at least some things are sacred) will be plenty nice. I've gone to some nice parks, like SBC in San Francisco, and some awful ones, like the Metrodome here in Minneapolis. But Busch?

I have been to a bunch of Cardinals games there over the years. My family never followed any other sports in the area: the fottball team evacuated in the mid 80s, hockey never really excited us. Soccer? heh.

So it was always baseball. Some of my favorite memories have been in Busch:
- my grandparents taking my brother and I to games with a thermos of iced tea and bags of popcorn. We sat near the top of the stadium, but it was always great.
- some birthday were mom got box seat tickets. Closest I had been. "There's the dugout!"
- my parents buying tickets in 1997 to take their college son to see his favorite player who had recently arrived in St. Louis: Mark McGwire. He promptly hits his first Cardinals home run.
- flirting with my to-be girlfriend, fiance, and wife at a intern outing in the summer of 1997.
- getting a great birthday present in 1997: a trip to the ballpark with my now-girlfriend. We sat in the upper deck right behind home plate (the best seats, in our opinion). Mac launches another bomb, this one hitting the "Post-Dispatch" sign above the center-field scoreboard. We were not sure it got out, but it turned out to be the longest homer I have ever seen. Happy birthday!
- taking my youngest sister to her first game in 1998 with my almost-fiance and her father. McGwire goes deep three times. She wears a Willie McGee shirt from mom and a Cards cap I got her (gotta be equipped right).
- my "bachelor party" with my brother in 1999. It was killer sunny in the center field upper deck, but Mac launched another one.
- and last year, going with my inlaws to what will likely be my last time there.

Too bad.

Sprung spring

Spring has finally come to Minnesota, and not a moment too soon. It is funny to see my co-workers and friends sprinting to the door the minute that they think their emails are done and meetings finished for the day.

For me, this tends to make a number of my hobbies come to the forefront of my attention. Biking is pretty simple, assuming the weather is good. Suit up, strap on the shoes, and go go go. The other, softball, is a little more complicated. Because it involves others.

We have been having softball practices for the last week here. I generally enjoy the practices, but so far it has been one-sided to hitting. And that's OK. The problem is that it is essentially a home-run hitting competition for most involved. Guys that couldn't hit it to the fence with a missle are up there aiming for the fence. This neglects a number of things:
- fielding
- throwing
- situational (realistic) hitting
- baserunning
I think these four make up a lot of the game. But hey, its softball. And it is spring, which tends to cure many ills.