Dinner and a Game with Barb and Herb

One reason for Watson traveling with us on the first few days of our trip was the opportunity to meet some of Melvin's family, which she and I did on Tuesday, April 15. Melvin's Aunt Barb, Uncle Herb and their son David joined us for a chilly game at Lake Olmstead Stadium, in Augusta. We made up five percent of the crowd, and later more.

Savannah second baseman Jeff McNeil takes a pitch

All Roads Lead There

All roads lead to Rome, although in our case we arrived on Georgia S.R. 53. Personally, it followed long and tortured travel. The Martin Luther King National Historic Site was our most significant destination but Ria's Bluebird was the highlight of the day-and-a-half that ended with the Lexington Legends punishing the Rome Braves; Monday, April 14.

The Future Is Now

We became interested in Dippin Dots in 2002, when, at a game in Scranton/Wilkes-Barre, a young man eating some near us exclaimed to his buds, "Dude, it's from the future." This exclamation was based, of course, on the Pavlovian fact that the Dippin Dots carts were all emblazoned with the phrase, "the ice cream of the future."

Anyway, I'm here to report that that future is necessarily now. We, friends, must be the people who are sending Dippin Dots back into the past, so that our compatriots in earlier eras can enjoy the freeze-dried magic of days yet to come. I know this because these days, as the photo above shows, Dippin Dots is no longer billed as "the ice cream of the future." It's just plain Dippin Dots. We have caught up with Dippin Dots. We are finally living in the future. 

The irony is that Watson and I spotted this—and I should clarify that Watson noticed the vanished slogan, not me—today at Turner Field in Atlanta, which if all goes according to plan will be the next stadium consigned to the dustbin of history after the 2017 season. And Turner Field itself is in the nominal shadow of its predecessor, Fulton County Stadium, whose walls still shape the parking lot, much as that now obsolete Dippin Dots slogan shaped that young man's wonderment. The past is everywhere with us, too.

Auld Lang Syne

It's that time of the year* when media outlets of all forms and sizes publish their year in review stories. Here is a new take on the seasonal regurgitation ... the blog posts I never wrote!

What Now? Chow-Chow!

Continuing to tidy up my apartment, I made a new discovery: a jar of chow-chow from Aplin farms, bought at a Birmingham farmers market on our 2007 trip there. I must have been saving it for a special occasion.

How now brown chow? The photo makes the relish look darker than it is, but I am sure it is more brown than when I bought it six-and-a-half years ago. The lid is on tight and isn't distended ... what do you think readers? Should I give it a try?

Lost and Found

While tidying up my apartment, a task I have undertaken to forestall losing my current romantic interest, I have come across a considerable amount of forgotten ephemera from various trips along the baseball byways.

I avoided looking too closely at most of it, a potential distraction from my chore. However, a handful of items did catch my eye. An eight-by-ten glossy photograph of the 24 (as of 2012?) astronauts from Ohio? What did I think I was going to do with that? It's gone now, just like John H. Glenn, Jr. (first row, third from right).

Keep It Simple

A perfectly conventional view of the action at the Kane County Cougars,
on the last day of the 2013 season

When we started this deathmarch (no, I love it, I do!), we were really enamored with the idea that you could see so many minor-league teams in relatively short order, given how compact the clusters of teams are in some places. The holy grail was to somehow see two games in different cities on the same day—a matinee in one place and a night game in the next. So, naturally, we soon embarked on huge trips to far-flung locations, such as all the teams in Texas, the cross-country odyssey of 2009, and the Lightning Field wanderjahr.

In 2014, we're getting back to basics. There will be some adjustments, no doubt, but here's what we're contemplating right now—a lot of short drives, and a lot of two-city doubleheaders.

April 13–21

• Gwinnett County Braves / Atlanta Braves
• Rome Braves
• Augusta Green Jackets
• Hickory Crawdads / Charlotte Knights
• Myrtle Beach Pelicans / Charleston RiverDogs
• Savannah Sand Gnats
• Jacksonville Suns
• Daytona Cubs

July 1213–16, 20–23

• Wilmington Blue Rocks
• Frederick Keys / Baltimore Orioles / Aberdeen Ironbirds
• Bowie BaySox / Frederick Keys Aberdeen Ironbirds
• Hagerstown Suns
• Eastern League All-Star Game (Altoona)
• Reading Fightin' Phils / Wilmington Blue Rocks
• Philadelphia Phillies

If you can believe it, we've seen roughly two thirds of all the minor-league teams now, and the first trip will knock off a number more. (Rob has seen all the teams on the second trip, but he's kindly allowing me to catch up.)

Onward, Byways soldiers!

Bar One

View from Section 415, Row 1, at Wrigley on Sunday, Carlos Villanueva on the mound

Unlike the previous one, this wasn't a big post. If I sat up, I could see over this. But what was five-foot-two Watson to do? Still, hat tip to possible former basset hound Dan Cramer for the seats.

Someone, Somewhere

I was on the road again for my birthday, although not with Melvin this year. By email I received the following photograph by my friend Heather.

What a wonderful birthday greeting for a baseball fan. And, being perverse, I love it all the more because the text on the state historic marker is untrue.

Caboose

Following our recent thoughts on baseball and trains, I should note that I very recently had the occasion to observe the Joliet Slammers stadium from inside an Amtrak car. The Slammers aren't affiliated, but hey, going there by train probably beats driving. More provocative still, if you take the commuter rail, corruption and all, the same line stops by the White Sox stadium. I smell a doubleheader some day. Whoo-whoo!