A night out at the ballpark
Last night, while Dan was allowing the untimely consumption of a potted orchid, Anne-Marie and I were at the Braves game trying not to think about our imminent doom at the hands of George W. Bush. It was so beautiful in Atlanta last night we actually did manage to forget — for a while anyway — that the man is leading the polls as far as the Electoral College is concerned.
(By the way, AM has a new blog. Go read it.)
The Braves beat the Mets 5-2, with Tom Glavine taking the loss and John Smoltz getting the save. It was the first time all season that I’ve been to a game where Smoltz appeared, as lately the Braves have lost whenever I managed to make it out to Turner Field. Also, it’s the first time I’ve seen Glavine pitch since he departed for New York, which is interesting because while he was a Brave it seemed like I had to consciously work to see a different Braves starting pitcher.
We did the classic ballpark evening — peanuts and Cracker Jacks and Cokes and popcorn and nachos. I briefly flirted with the idea of cheese fries but ended up deciding against them simply because I knew I’d only eat five before grossing myself out. It was nice to be able to let go for an evening.
Tomorrow is the first Bush/Kerry debate, and despite the President’s astounding record of never having lost a debate (astounding in the sense that I simply cannot fathom how such a thing could possibly have happened, and yet there it is on the record books), I am hoping Kerry wipes the floor with him. I’ll be watching. You should too.
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