Month: August 2016

Old age, being weird, or just a morning person

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Maybe all of the above.  I realized over the weekend that I don’t really know a whole lot of morning people.  People who get up early, as pretty incapable of sleeping in for more than eight hours tops, and are productive, active, and can often find solace and comfort in the relaxed hours of the day in which there’s a good chance that a lot of people are still sleeping.

I am one of these people.  I take a lot of enjoyment in the early hours of the day in which I am often times in my own head and thoughts, and I feel like I can take my time and do, things, at a leisurely pace, thus being vastly more productive than when amidst other people.

This isn’t to say that I am not a night person, quite the contrary, as I do love good times at late hours, and don’t hesitate to stay up until three in the morning if the circumstances allow for it.  It’s just when my head hits the pillow, if I don’t set an alarm, 7-8 hours typically suffices for me as sleeping in, as somewhere around 5-6 is the norm for me otherwise.

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Oh boy, twenty whole minutes!

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Game-changer: Atlanta Braves change start time for weeknight games at Great White Flight Park from 7:10 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. intending to help alleviate traffic

This is hilarious.  The Braves actually think twenty whole minutes is going to make a modicum of difference when it comes to traffic in and surrounding the I-75/I-285 intersection.  The top end of I-285 is already the worst traffic in the city on a regular basis, and maybe starting the game at 8:30 would be when traffic actually might die down, but there’s no guarantee then either.

There was this one time I was working in Sandy Springs.  I dawdled into later hours on a regular basis, so that I could milk extra hours, and I was interested in a girl that worked there.  But I would leave the office routinely around 7:00-7:30, because I already knew how bad the traffic was around 5-6 p.m. after work, and I figured it wouldn’t be as bad then.

Combining the asinine metered on-ramps and the fact that I-285 is I-285, it would take me over 20 minutes just to get on the highway, much less crawl the six miles from entering the highway to get to where ScumTrust Park is going to exist.

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Count it

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Back with a gruesome bang: tractor-trailer overturns on Atlanta’s I-285 westbound ramp, spilling 55,000 pounds of chicken guts onto the roads, effectively closing them during the heart of rush hour

Just when I thought all the other states were getting all the good stories of tragic overturned truck crashes, Atlanta comes back with a bang.  Other states can have ketchup and biscuits, but we live in a world where food is sparsely to be considered food if doesn’t contain protein, and when the chips get low, we can always count on Atlanta highways to derail the most premium of cargos.

And this is kind of intricate as it gets; I mean Atlanta’s had hams, entire pig carcasses and turkeys spilled onto the highways, but this is straight up chicken parts.  Not an order of like, pre-cut and gutted chicken cores frozen and ready to be sold for normal consumption, but the byproducts and leftover organs and intestine that people typically do not eat.

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The Cleveland Indians’ C logo sucks

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

After several years of being denied methods to visit Cleveland and get the home of the Indians off of my list, this past weekend, I managed to parlay some quality father-and-son into a road trip that finally knocked Cleveland off of the list.  I now have two ballparks left, before I can say that I’ve visited all 30.  But I never would have imagined that Cleveland was going to give me this much trouble.

One of these days, I’ll have a ballpark site again, much less my entire fucking brog, and when that eventually happens, then maybe I’ll get the opportunity to write about the ballpark itself.  But for now, the ballpark is not the topic; it’s the team that plays in said ballpark, and their stupid fucking identity.

The Cleveland Indians’ primary emblem is now the letter C.  Literally, the letter C.  And nothing else.  (Mostly) Gone is Chief Wahoo, and even the singular letter I in the stylized script.  Because Indians.  Because “Indians” is perceived as racist, insensitive and ignorant, or any other popular rhetoric used to describe the blatant and inflammatory discrimination.

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