Oh...Canada

Back in February, while New York was getting pelted with snow storm, after snow storm...after snowstorm, MTG and I decided to do what any other reasonable couple with a few vacation days and limited funds would do, we, uh, headed north to Canada. Here are a few things I learned about Canada during this, my third trip to America's hat.

- I had one goal on this trip and that was to obtain some sort of Quebec Nordiques souvenir (a classic NHL team that moved to Colorado in the 90's). BTW, the word souvenir is French for overpriced item that will probably break in the next year or give you lead poisoning but will make friends and family back home feel like all you did on vacation was think about them. Anyway, Nordiques stuff is everywhere in Quebec City and my goal was achieved. The Quebecois really need to let it go, though. She's not coming back, dude.

- Weather predictions work different in Canada. In the States, when the weather man (I'm looking at you Hurricane Schwartz) says we're going to get 12 - 15 inches this usually means we get about 3 inches of snow (Present year excluded). But in Canada, when they predict 4 centimeters of snow they end up with about 8-10 inches of snow, and no one blinks an eye. Either my metric to standard conversion is way off, or they underestimate on a consistent basis. Or they just like to screw with the non-French speakers.

- Speaking of which, I really need to work on French. I took it in high school and in the past have been able to use it to at least get through initial greetings in France and Montreal, but this time, good God! I tried to order duck with orange sauce at a fancy restaurant and the waiter brought over a small french speaking boy wearing a beret.

- They celebrate Valentines Day in Canada. If you ever go there with your special lady friend over February 14th, secure some dinner reservations beforehand. For some reason, I just assumed Valentines Day was another fake holiday created by American marketers or the American Association of Chocolate Industry Lobbyists. Nope. Turns out it's legit. Things worked out great but not before some fancy sounding swear words were uttered. If there is one thing to remember from this post, this is it.

- It's cold up there. For reals. Starting to understand why Quebec City wanted to secede.

-We bought thermal undergarments (shirt and bottoms) for this trip...and holy crap, how have I gone the last 15 years of my life without owning any thermal undergarments. It was love rediscovered and I am still smitten as I type this.

- And finally, 200 French Canadian fourth graders can really put a damper on a romantic trip to the museum.

Soggy Nachos

Sometimes you have the time to write a blog post but not the desire.
Sometimes you have the desire to write a blog post but realize that you have VH1 Classic in your cable lineup.

It's been a while, Kind Readers. I won't make any excuses for my disappearance. There has been much speculation, I'm sure.

"Is there 3 month 10 cent buffalo wing special at Doc Watsons?"
"Is it true that Ben moved to San Diego to start a Hot Dog Stand on the beach...for charity?"
"Did the soccer video lead to an arrest due to an unpaid Boyertown Elementary Library Fine for an un-returned Choose Your Own Adventure Book?"
" Is it Seasonal Affective Disorder coupled with a general malaise of living in NY in a post-Yankees Championship-world?"

Now we might be on to something. But forget about all that. To pick up where we left off the Phillies were in the World Series. Then they lost and there was much disappointment throughout the land. This was not the first time Phillies fans have been disappointed and it won't be the last. Here is a tale of earlier Phillies related disappointment.

It was 1991 and I was just a boy of about 12. I had two goals in life at the age of 12. The first was manageable. It was to collect every Cal Ripken baseball card in existence. I had three out of four rookie cards at one point so I was clearly well on my way. The second seemed simple in theory but impossible in practice. It was to get on camera at a Philadelphia sporting event and make it onto the televised game on Prism (the tv channel that aired many of the Flyers and Phillies home games).

In theory, go to enough games, sit close to the field, be a cute kid, make a clever sign, and BAM, Delaware Valley-wide-recognition. The problem was that we only went to a handful of games every year. And when we went we sat waay up high in the 700 level. Cause that's just how my grandpop and I would roll. When I say way up, I mean it. These were the kind of seats where on fireworks night you would still look down towards the field for the fireworks display. The players looked so small from up there I once mistook Steve Jeltz for Von Hayes. You get the idea.

This all changed in 1991 when my Grandpop got tickets for his Corporate box seats through his employer. We got to the game and instead of climbing up, up, up and stopping along the way for oxygen, the usher led us down, down, down until we found ourselves in the front row on the third base line in shallow left field. Holy poop. I got Wes Chamberlain's autograph during warm-up (don't care what you think of Wes, I have his autograph)! The Philly Phanatic accidentally kicked me in the head when he jumped over the rail into our seats! For a second, I felt bad for all the kids stuck up there in the 700 level and emphatically looked up in their direction but couldn't see them as there were clouds in between us.

This was my big chance to make it onto Prism. As always, I had taped the game on our home VCR and honestly, I'm not sure what I was looking forward to more, the game, or getting home to watch the tape of the game to see if we'd made it on TV.

The game was great and being so close to the action gave a whole new perspective. Around the sixth inning I got hungry and I had heard rumors that they had expanded snack selection in the lobby area of these fancy seats. Intrigued by the possibility of Pretzel Bites that came with both spicy mustard and cheese whiz I set out to the concession stands with ten dollars in my pocket.

When I returned (if I recall, with nachos and a baseball helmet sundae) there was commotion around our seats and my Grandpop, Mom, and mom's friend were laughing it up. Something had gone down and I was curious to find out. When I asked, I was told that there was a foul ball down the third base line and while running full speed in pursuit two Montreal Expos (perhaps Spike Owen and Ivan Calderon?) collided RIGHT in front of our seats and writhed on the ground for a good five minutes while the trainers came out to work on them. It's amazing how quickly you lose your appetite for Nachos when you realize you've just blown your chance at achieving one of your two life's goals.

I somehow found a way to enjoy the rest of the game and raced to the VCR when we got home, fast forwarded to the sixth inning and sure enough, there was Grandpop, mom, and mom's friend laughing and waiving to the camera as Marquis Grissom stood over his injured teammates. I gave up a good 3 minutes in the living room of thousands of households across the Delaware Valley for some soggy nachos.

Retiring # 7

You may recall that a few weeks back I received the news that my old soccer number, 7 - the number I wore through two grueling years as a member of the Light Blue team of the Boyertown Youth Soccer League - would be retired by Coach/Reader Nate and the Under 6 Light Blue Team that he now coaches. The ceremony was scheduled for 10/17 at Washington Elementary and I promised that I would have some words for the team at the ceremony. Well it was raining on 10/17 and again yesterday, so I've taken it upon myself to assume that the game has been moved to this morning. Coach Nate, please play the following video for the kids at the half. GO LIGHT BLUE! (Two notes regarding the video: Yes, I do have a life. Yes, I also have a long train commute.)




Finally, Facebook Fans of the MFP will soon have access to the extended directors cut which = more obscure Boyertown references, more rambling, and more time wasted!

Behind Enemy Lines

It's that time of year again. After Jimmy Rollins gave us all a reason to buy brand spankin new undies on Monday night (nice call, Matt) with his improbable come from behind walk-off base hit in the bottom of the ninth, the Phightin Phils found themselves just one win away from their second straight World Series appearance.

As such, Rocco and I found ourselves grabbing a bite and an adult beverage and trying to get into New York's only true Philly bar, Wogies. No dice, so we ended up across the street at The Greenwhich Treehouse, which is essentially the overflow room for Wogies (you can even order Wogies food to be delivered to the Treehouse).

Needless to say, the Phils housed the Dodgers like a drunk La Salle kid houses a Black Taco, and away we go. It wasn't as exciting as being in Philadelphia but finding a street just four blocks from my apt in New York with two bars spewing Phillies fans into the street in in celebration is pretty a.o.k. in my book. This might be the only street in New York I'll be safe on if everything unfolds as it should and the New York Yankees are the Phillies' opponent in the World F-ing Series.

While I love New York, I hate the Yankees. Always have, always will (Sorry, Dom). The Yankees, with their three expensive free agent signings during last off-season, are essentially trying to buy their way into the World Series' pants. They are that guy who showers expensive dinners and gifts upon a woman just so he can get some action and then discards her because he's been with many women many times and he knows he can get there again with other women simply by pulling out the black AmEx.

The Phillies, on the other hand, and their fans for that matter, hadn't been laid in a long, long, looong time before last October. It was lonely. Very. And now that the Phillies were with her last year, they have realized how amazing the warm embrace of a woman feels and they are doing everything they can to have her stay with all of us for another year. Respecting her and keeping things exciting have gone a long way in making this a possibility. The Phillies are more of an old school, making trades and building from within kinda guy. Instead of breaking out the black AmEx they break out the Black Taco. And I like it that way.

On the walk home last night I snapped the above photo on my phone. So, was the Empire State Building lit up in Phillies Red last night? You decide....Actually, I know you guys are tired from celebrating last night so I'll answer that for you. It was.

A Series of Reflections: Springsteen at the Spectrum

I went to one of the final Bruce Springsteen shows at the Spectrum in Philadelphia with my mom, sister, and step-dad last week. A few thoughts on that experience.

1. Ok, I know Nils Lofgren is an exceptional and technically proficient guitarist. The guy can handle an axe like I handle a chicken finger (aggressively and with hunger in his eye, but with just enough care to be able to savor its delights). However, is he a soulful/passionate guitar player? He has to be, right? I mean he played on one of the most raw, passionate, in the moment albums of all time, ever. And yet, I didn't get that feeling at the Bruce show. I'm not sure these concerts showcase Nils' ability to create a mood with a guitar. I guess it's tough when you're sharing the stage with FOUR other guitarists, including Little Stevie. Sorry Bruce, but I'm not sure I see the need to have five guitarists playing the same chord progressions at the same time.

2. I love Dancing in the Dark and I don't care what you think of that. This song is great, especially the way they played it last week, using a deep driving baseline. I wanted to be Courtney Cox.


3. Springsteen is the Man (or the Boss, if you prefer). There is no disputing this. Love him or hate him, the guy simply owns the audience possibly more than any front man I've ever seen with the exception of every New Kid on the Block at Dorney Park in 1988. Bruce clearly could have been a successful preacher if this whole Rock n Roll thing didn't pan out (it did) and if he started a cult I'd be worried that my mom would move to Utah in a hungry heartbeat (rimshot). He walked into the crowd at one point and she walked toward him arms outstretched without so much as a glance back toward her husband and children.


4. While waiting in the porta-potty line with my Mom the following conversation took place:

Boss Groupie # 1: Springsteen at the Spectrum, it doesn't get any better than this!

Boss Groupie # 2 (aka my Mom): I knoowww. I''m gonna cry when they knock this place down (editors note: The Spectrum is being destroyed in November). I have soooo many stories about this place.

BG1: Mee tooo.

BG2/Mom: I brought my kids tonight so they can see a real concert. My son is 30. (points to me, standing with my back turned)

Ben Sherman: (turning around to face the embarrassment/conversation) I was conceived in the Spectrum. She's not kidding about having stories.

BG1 (looks scared and out Bruce groupied): Umm...

BG2/Mom: He wasn't...but he could have been.

Letters to the Editor: Undies (brand spanking new ones)

A few months ago, shortly after I moved to New York, I received an e-mail from my Aunt. She had a suggestion for how to transfer my undergarments in the move to new york.

You see, back when I was a youngin of about 14 or 15, I went to Disney World with my aunt, uncle, cousins, nana, pop pop, etc but my dad and step-mom didn't go with. To ensure I was prepared for the week-long trip and wouldn't crumble in their absence they stocked me with a suitcase full of embarrassing(ly high fashion) checkered shorts (one lime green pair proved especially able to stop the Disney crowds in their tracks) as well as eight days worth of Fruit o" the Loom socks, white t-shirts, and tighty whitey briefs. In their original packaging. Brand. Spanking. New.

All of this was packed tightly within a couple of brown paper bags from our local grocery store (Weis' Markets) and then packed within my suitcase. Double bagged, so to speak. As I'm sure you can imagine, when I opened my suitcase to unpack upon arrival at our hotel in the greatest place on Earth, my aunt and her family were dumbfounded, scared, and mostly highly amused at the still packaged undergarments within the contents of my suitcase. I'm sure there are many reasons why I had all this packed (maybe my Dad thought Space Mountain would be so scary that I would repeatedly sh!t myself?) but regardless of the intent, the result has been years of ridicule from my aunt.

Her letter to the editor and my response are below. If you have a question, comment, or blackmail for the editor you know where to send it.

------------------------------------------------------------

Hey Ben,

I stopped by your dad's tonight and he mentioned you were moving. Here is a tip for you. Don' t pack your socks and underwear - just buy new when you get there!! Also, I have extra Weis' grocery store paperbags if you are looking for something to pack your stuff in.

Have fun!

Your Aunt

---

Dear Aunt ,

I am glad you still find my ability to prepare for the unexpected (in this case the possibility that my undies would disintegrate due to the high speed/elevation of 32,000 feet while flying to Florida and that Disney would only be selling stupid Goofy boxers when I would have wanted Mighty Duck tighty whities) amusing after all these years.

I'll have you know that one of the things that stinks about living in a shoebox in new york is having to walk down five flights of stairs and then to the end of the block in hopes that there will be a washer available at the laundry mat. For someone who already hates doing wash this doesn't help the cause. As a result, I recently ran out of socks and undies and was faced with the prospect of buying new (as you suggested), wearing some of MTG's, or doing laundry. The second choice is clearly not an option (since MTG hides her undies from me after "the incident") so I bit the bullet and did wash this past Saturday. I should be all good for a few weeks.

You should know, however, that if I were to choose to buy new socks and underwear rather than do wash or steal my girlfriend's, that new york city is, I imagine, the best place on earth to live. I estimate that I have at least ten sock/underwear merchants within a four block radius (many selling Michael Jackson emblazoned undergarments in these times) and that if given 30 minutes I could secure a brand new pair of socks and underwear at any hour of the day or night. Don't believe me? Then go ahead and challenge me. Text me, any time, day or night and I will respond within 30 minutes with a picture message of a brand new pair of socks and underwear.

Thanks for your concern,

Ben

p.s. Sorry for the delay in responding but I've been busy unpacking boxes and my Weis' paper bags.

Photograph O' the Week

Baixa, Lisbon
Girlfriend, Annoyed

This photograph turned out pretty well and both MTG and I really like it, but if memory serves, at the time, one of us was none too pleased that the other one was stopping to take photographs at 1 a.m. Lisbon Standard Time. You can probably tell which one of us was p!ssed if you look really close.

In the News...

Here's what's been happening while you've been busy doing stuff that I don't talk about below.

Irish parents struggling through a recession are now required to send their children to school with a toilet paper roll as well as a packed lunch. Especially thrifty parents are packing toilet paper and jelly sandwiches.

A circus showman who bought a $35 million ticket to the International Space Station said it's been worth every penny, though he thought it odd that NASA uses a cannon to get people into space.

Brett Favre threw 3 touchdowns against his former team, the GB Packers. Not bad, considering he retired at the end of the first half only to come out of retirement for the second.

Detroit Tigers star Miguel Cabrera apologized for being drunk last weekend while the Tigers were trying to clinch the AL Central title noting that rooting for the Tigers is what led him to drink.

Sarah Palin is urging President Obama to increase US presence in Afghanistan and is also urging the Wasilla town council to increase its neighborhood watch presence in Russia.

President Obama thanked counterterrorism teams for "making real progress" in disrupting extremist networks. Meanwhile Democrats approaching an election year thanked President Obama for "making fake progress" in everything.

An Alabama woman was arrested after she let her daughter ride in a cardboard box on top of their van. Police had pulled the woman over when they noticed a brand new refrigerator riding shotgun.