Tejada? Bloomquist? Hinske? Lannan? Walla?

Last night (morning in Cincinnati) the Irrational League was able to complete it's 16th annual draft. Amazingly, the online part of the draft worked brilliantly, with only an initial problem at the beginning at their end. It was wonderful to get together, even virtually, with everyone again. Sadly, my beloved Atlanta Crackers are truly dreadful, and I can state that without a doubt this is the worst team I've ever finished with on draft day. Normally after the draft we'd be headed to the nearest Skyline Chili parlor and I could begin reconstructing my team with various and sundry trades with Gary Beatrice, but couldn't quite pull it off this year. After last year's unsuccessful attempt to win it all I was stuck with too many returning bad contracts, too few good contracts and a Gogol-esque Dead Salary (so I started the draft with $19 less than I should have had - and I already strapped for cash), which meant that I was doomed before it started. As you can see from the picture I came with my Cincinnati Reds t-shirt and my Savannah Sand Gnats hat, but there is only so much that even these lucky tokens can do. The Crackers are officially playing for 2013. Still, it was worth the pain to talk to my friends again. We're already planning a Reds game for when I get back in July.

Rain

Unbelievably, we actually had rain this week - on two different days!! It's the first time, at least in Abu Dhabi, since I arrived in early September that it's rained. I've heard stories about our students at ZU bursting out of the building to play in the rain, and, truthfully, if I would have had the opportunity I would definitely have done the same thing.

Irrational League

There are certain times of year when it is ridiculous to try and get me to concentrate (and they seem to be expanding every year). One of them is late March, because I am focusing on the upcoming fantasy baseball league draft for the Irrational League. Our league, which had humble origins years ago as a crazy spark of an idea at a Subway shop up next to the University of Cincinnati when I was up visiting from Atlanta, is getting ready to launch it's sixteenth year. Gary Beatrice, Glenn Rice (who comes and goes in the league) and I were having lunch when I proposed that it might be cool to put together a fantasy baseball league, and I think we drafted two days later. There were only four of us so we restricted the pool of players to the NL West (the old National League West) because we didn't want to have too much talent available and because Cincinnati was in that division.

The membership has shifted over the years, but it has always been a great group of folks. We've had a steady core, pictured below, for several years now - from top to bottom: David Kelley (Springfield Isotopes), Jack Schultz (Indy Griffiths), Gary Beatrice (Boston Bums), Daryl Evans (Kentucky Cubs), Bob Sawma (Red Dogs), Kelly Hamad (Killers) and Mike Bergman Bombers). A lot of folks mock the fantasy leagues, and, like most things, some people do take it to an illogical extreme, but I've always enjoyed our league immensely. It's allowed me to keep connected to some great friends, and get reconnected to people like Jack, who was my best friend in high school. Plus, it's forced me to know a lot more about baseball, especially the minor leagues, than I ever thought possible.

One of these days I should put together a blog posting centered around my favorite Irrational league moments, but no time for that today. The draft itself is always my Christmas and I look forward to it way too much, especially if it includes a trip into Cincinnati. The draft itself takes around six hours, and then we normally retire to a local Skyline Chili parlor to break our fast and to begin sand-bagging and trading. Sadly, I'm trapped in Abu Dhabi this year so we're going to try and carry on the draft online (insh'allah). Fortunately, or unfortunately, I have no chance at all to win this year so I'm not too worried about the technology. Normally by this time I would be awash in preparation and have pages and pages of notes, but I haven't even thought about it yet. The Atlanta Crackers went all in last year in a mad attempt to win their sixth title and ended up finishing second, which I consider last, so the cupboard is bare, which means I can just focus all of my attention of destroying other team's dreams. Go Crackers!!

That Room in the Back

One of the things that Americans always fail to understand about the Islamic world is how generally tolerant it is - and certainly over the centuries Islam has been much more tolerant than Christianity. You see it in all sorts of ways, both big and small. I was reminded of one of the small ones yesterday when I went shopping at Spinney's, which is the little grocery store close to my apartment. In many grocery stores that are frequented by western ex-pats you will find the non-Muslim room in the back of the store, where items that Muslims are forbidden to eat are stored. So, for instance, if you wanted to buy hot dogs or sausages you'd go to that room. Here's an odd little picture that I snapped yesterday. In the background you can see the hot dogs, but in the upper left you can spot an unexpected item: Pop-Tarts. I'm not certain what makes Pop-Tarts haram, although it must be something in the ingredients. So, you can still get hot dogs or sausages - or Pop-Tarts - you just pick them up, and then like a teen-age boy who has snuck into the store to buy a copy of Playboy you bring your guilty purchase up to the front. Actually, there is no reason for skulking because, as I said at the beginning, the mood is much more tolerant and easy-going than is popularly perceived. Oh, and I had forgotten what a guilty pleasure, in more ways than one, Pop-Tarts are.

Union Terminal Mosaic Murals

Here's a very long-delayed posting that I don't really have time to explore in the detail that it deserves. Here are a few pictures of some of the extraordinary mosaics that were originally in the old Union Terminal train station in Cincinnati. These are in the Cincinnati Airport, which means that even if you can't make it downtown to Union Terminal itself you can at least catch a glimpse of them as you pass through Cincinnati. My understanding, and I could certainly be wrong, is that they are the largest non-religious mosaic murals in the world. They were designed by the German artist Winold Reiss back in the early 1930's and celebrated the industries of Cincinnati, back in the day when the Natti was a true working class town.

The mosaics were housed in the glorious old train station, which is a masterpiece of Art Deco art. The station itself was a victim of changing economic times in the US and it's a miracle that the mosaics survived. In fact, the largest one which was am amazing map of the world was destroyed back in the 1970s (it sort of reminds me of how the squares in Savannah almost didn't survive the 1970s and idiotic ideas about urban renewal). Luckily Union Terminal today is a functioning museum center so the mosaics which are still housed there are safe.

Now, it does make you wonder if a celebration of the working man like this would even be possible in today's America?

Songs: Looking For A Way Out

I guess it's not too surprising that as the blog has moved away from a travelogue to a more personal reflection that I would eventually get to music. Without a doubt I can state that music has always been very important to me, although I also have to be honest and admit that so many of my friends know a lot more about it than I do. My friends David Kelley and Gary Beatrice and Dave Wallace and Mike Kelly are walking encyclopedias; and my ex-wife Brenda has the most eclectic and sophisticated musical taste of anyone I've ever met. With me I locked into Neil Young early on and had a vague sense that there were other folks making music. Luckily over the years I've learned a lot about other musicians through the patient suggestions of my friends. Like most men I rank things, which I suppose relates to growing up as sports maniacs. That's one of the many beauties of baseball - endless top 10 lists. Several months ago on my fantasy baseball website (and that's another posting in its own right) I suggested the topic of perfect songs. That is, songs that you just really can't imagine being better than they are. That, of course, got me thinking of songs that would make my list, as well as just wonderful songs in general. And now my internal conversation has found its way onto my blog, which is essentially an internal conversation in its own right. But where to start? I guess I'll just start with the song that has popped into my head: Uncle Tupelo's Looking For A Way Out. Uncle Tupelo has long been my pat answer in the unusual category of Best Band I Never Heard of Until After They Were Already Broken Up, and they're another band that David Kelley introduced to me (although lately I've had so many great conversations about them with my friend Mike Kelly). They are the band that, upon their break-up, spawned Son Volt and Wilco. So why do I love this song so much? I do have a very personal and emotional reaction to it because it is one of the songs that I clearly remember listening to as I drove across Iowa after dropping my son off at Drake University for his freshman year, and how the line, "There was a time, that time is gone" made me pull over to the side of the road and sob. More than that, however, is that it just struck a chord with me because that's how I always felt growing up back in Indiana. I never went overseas until ten years ago, and didn't really leave the region to move south to Atlanta until I was thirty, but I think I was always looking for a way out. For most of my life it was literature and then it became film, but it was always about being someplace other than where I was. I thought a lot about it this summer as Sanford and I were heading west and passing through Indiana and Illinois and Missouri and especially Kansas and Oklahoma. The song brilliantly manages to portray that limited small town view while also elegiacally hint at its passing (much as Don Quixote both mocks romantic novels and mourns the passing of chivalry). I've heard about three different versions of the song, and, truthfully, I think I like the one from their Discography collection best. The song initially appeared on Still Feel Gone, and the re-release contains two versions. However, they're all great - so give a listen.

Memories of Istanbul

There are a million things going on in my life at the moment that are dominating my time, but for some reason my mind keeps sliding back to Istanbul. It may just be that it was such an amazing experience, and I definitely can't wait to go back. Or it may just be that with its chaos and dirt and history and clouds and rain and crush of people, that it just felt like an authentic city. Not that Abu Dhabi isn't an authentic city, and I'm actually growing oddly fond of it, but it is so shiny and new that it often feels as if I'm living in an extended posh mall (or as a good friend of mine likes to opine, an airport lounge). I'd love to be wandering through the streets of Istanbul right now, and not simply in search of apple tea.

Apple Tea

Obviously, one of the best things about travel is the fascinating people you meet along the way, whether you're headed to Guymon, Oklahoma or Istanbul, Turkey. On my last night in Istanbul in December I wandered into a little shop hoping to knock off some Christmas shopping. The shopkeepers could not have been more friendly, and in classic Middle Eastern fashion offered me some tea while I shopped. I liked the apple tea so much that the wonderful woman who waited on me gave me a little gift basket featuring the tea and a couple glasses (even though it was not a shop that sold tea - she just brought it to me out of the back of the store). Sadly, in the confusion I didn't catch her name, but on my next trip there I'm going to try and track down the shop and return the favor with Vermont maple syrup.

King of Kings

I just received the update from the second annual Four Sport Triathlon. In an earlier posting I discussed the initial competition last year, which was held on my birthday. It is an intense athletic competition that puts the Olympics to shame, featuring excellence in minature golf, bowling, pool and darts, spread out of multiple venues, half a day, and a massive amount of chicken wings and adult beverages. Surprisingly, my pick to win, the young Andy Burkhardt was unable to defend his title (even factoring in his heroic consumption of half a pound of chicken wings as extra-credit). Here is a picture of this year's champion, Mike Lange, posing with the trophy. Andy sent me multiple pictures as well as an inspired video montage, which has left me more than a bit homesick.

A Very Emirati Car Wash

There are a million things about the UAE that drive me crazy (or, as my British friends would say, "does my head in"), but there are some aspects of life here which I find oddly endearing. One of them is getting your car washed. Now, there are other options, one of them, like in the US, being when you fill up your car. Almost every station (all of which are full service by the way, and are happy to accept tipes) has a car wash. Interestingly enough, although also logically enough, many of the gas stations, especially on long stretches of road such as between Abu Dhabi and Dubai, also have a little mosque. I've never actually had my car washed at the gas station, mainly because there is almost always a big queue and by the time I've managed to fill up I'm ready to head out. The other option, and this is the one I love, is getting your car washed at the mall. When you pull up in the mall, either at an outdoor parking lot or in an underground parking garage, a nice gentleman, usually Indian, will come up and ask if you want your car washed. You just pay on the spot and by the time you return your car is nice and clean. They pull up a little mobile car washing device (pictured here), which looks like a cross between a motor scooter on steroids and a military drone, and get to work right away. In a big parking garage you might see a dozen of these little machines tooling around. The entire process costs 20 dirhams (around six dollars) and is wonderfully practical (especially inside of a country where so little is actually practical or even logical). So why are they so popular? Well, I just think they're cute and I like the idea of having someone take care of it for me while I also do my shopping. It could also be a reflection of life in the UAE where we seemingly spend all of our time shuttling back and forth in between posh hotels and posh malls (a couple of my friends have encouraged me to write about my time here, which I'm considering calling The Year of Living Poshly) and thus we are always at one or the other - and living in an arid, sandy environment (and especially now with lots of sandstorms) it does fill a natural niche in the market. Or maybe we're just too busy/lazy here in the UAE to be bothered with washing our own car. I can only speak for myself in saying that it makes me much more likely to wash my car.

The Pure and the Profane

Here's a picture that I snapped really quickly the other night. I've been accused, quite correctly, of identifying way too many things as being a microcosm of something far larger. Pictured is a small enclosed prayer space (obviously shot in between prayers) that appears to be threatened, although not retreating, in the face of the crass, materialistic world. You have a small space reserved for the transcendent that is surrounded by automobiles and a bank (including a 24 hour ATM) that has crept way too close. That said, it does nicely express how the sacred and the secular co-exist peacefully, if sometimes clumsily, together here in the Middle East. Doubtless the space would have already been bulldozed in the US to make room for a Wal-Mart.