Yuppie "fans"

What has happpened to our society when the best seats in the house go to over-paid and over-dressed higher-ups who spend the entire game bent over their Blackberries?

This was the image during last night's ALCS game. Yankees vs. Angels. Not a great game, but playoff game nonetheless. The southern California crowd was electric and almost entirely crimson, like a home game in Madison. The Angels didn't play their best - neither did the umps - and the Yankees ended up getting away with bigger win than they should have. Not a great night to be an Angels fan.

Still, none of that excuses the downright disgusting behavior on the part of all the men and women who got the priveledge of sitting in front. They were closer to the field than the players in the dugout. Enclosed in a kind of yuppie cage, I think these people were confused. Instead of being dressed for a baseball game, they looked as though they got sidetracked on their way to the US Open. (Golf or tennis, take your pick.) Button-downs, blazers, dresses or high-heels have no business being in a ballpark.

Instead of reveling in the fortuitous circumstances that led the people to the best seats in the house, they chose to ignore their surroundings completely. At one point the cameras zoomed in on a group of three having what could have only been the most interesting conversation ever, not a single one of them facing the field. This was right after an A-rod homer. Granted, he's a Yankee. They're probably Californians. A-rod's not their guy. Still, it seemed rather Grinch-like to me.

If they weren't talking to each other they were texting on their Blackberries. Or checking the news. Or their email. Or whatever it is that is so important it keeps people glued to their phones as though the world will end if they aren't using it for more than one minute.

It's one thing to have a conversation with someone at a ballgame - even if you are dressed like a yuppie. That I can (almost) live with. But to face the field, sitting closer to home plate than most kids would ever know to dream of, with your head bowed in reverence to your Blackberry, you are a disgrace to baseball.

But you don't care.

It wasn't a big deal for them to sit where they did. It wasn't luck, there were no fortuitous circumstances that brought all those big-wigs together in their khaki pants and pink ties. They bought it. They got what they wanted - exposure. They got to rub elbows with others of their kind. I sure hope the baseball game didn't cause them too much of a disturbance.

This, to me, captures a lot of what is wrong with our society. When looking good and rubbing elbows is more important than getting lost in the count, caught up in the frustration over the ump's unfair call, and carried away when your team scores the winning run, something's wrong. Give the good seats to the people who care, not to the people who have so much money that they don't. If all you're going to do is sit and talk, do that somewhere else. In the corridors. In the upper deck. In a bar. In your living room. Give the good seats to the people who care.

Baseball is a game of magic. Of possibilities. Kids know that. Hell, everyone sitting above the 2nd deck knows that. What happens at the ballpark, it can inspire you. One swing of the bat can make you forget everything that's wrong in the world, if only just for a moment. For that one moment, everything is perfect. Baseball is for those who appreciate the power of the underdog. It's for those who can believe in something, even if that something was as unlikely as the Red Sox winning a World Series before 2003. Never stop believing. It's magical. It's baseball. If you don't appreciate that, what are you doing there?

So, stay out of my ballpack, yuppies. You don't deserve it.

Dear God, you are confusing.

Dear God,

I don't understand you most of the time. It seems to be that whenever I get a sense of divine direction in my life the direction changes. The trail ends. Sometimes the trail's end is gradual, as if the trail's caretaker had long since forgotten about it and nature had begun to claim its space again. Sometimes the directional change is as abrupt as getting a door slammed in your face.

I do my best to understand what you want, to understand where I need to be, to understand my place in the world at any given time. I know it changes. Life is anything but static. Permanence is a concept I've learned to live without. And yet I crave stability.

I've always been able to see the good that can come from a situation, or the steps I can - I should - take after the trail I have been hiking begins to fade away. You have always taken care of me. I'm sure you still are.

It's just hard to understand why some things happen the way they do. You know, why did this have to happen, when the opposite of this would have been so much better? And easier? And good for everyone? Well, perhaps not. Often times the things we want are not the best things for us.

It's hard to swallow that medicine, but I'll do my best.

I wrote once that there are no "ifs" in the world. You remember, Corrie ten Boom actually wrote it first. Things happen, and we move foward. It's no use wondering what if. Luckily I've never been a big "what if" kind of girl.

I don't wonder "what if," but I do wonder "why not?"

You typically tend to answer in time, so I'm going to wait. You'll know where to find me.

Your friend,
Me