In a bizarre turn of events, my wife and I have become avid Red Sox followers, since around game 3 or 4 of the ALCS. We spent our Wednesday “date night” last night watching game 1 of the World Series.

Who are we, and what have we done with us?

Irony of the night: We had been hanging out at The Old Goat, Richmond’s local Irish-esque pub, and crowds were beginning to file in to watch game 1 of the series. They weren’t able to tune in the beginning of the game with their DirecTV set up. Instead, a white screen took the place of FOX, announcing “We’re aware that this station is temporarily unavailable. We’ll get it working soon – no need to call!” I don’t know if they ever got it working – the pub owner had decided to listen to the game on the radio before we left.

After finishing our drinks, we went home and tuned it in without a problem via our amplified rabbit ears, chuckling whenever they showed a replay via the “DirecTV Diamond Cam.” Good times.

In other news, I’d have posted about the long weekend I spent with Husher and a couple of other guys on Aziscohos Lake, but, well, Husher’s the one who brought the camera. Read all about it and view some non-incriminating photos from the annual beach weekend here. It’s amazing how a weekend of peace, quiet, charred animal flesh and beer can really clear your head.

Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.

I’m not sure who originally said this – I first heard it attributed to Elvis Costello, but I’ve heard many others given credit for it in the years since.

My co-worker is currently listening to a Nascar race. On the radio.

If anything could ever be more exciting than watching guys drive in circles, it’s listening to some other guys describe those guys driving in circles.

It’s kind of like reading an amateur screenplay based on a War And Peace-length novel about paint drying.