Google Earth / Google Maps

Aside from the consumption of a good three to fours hours of each day, Google Maps also offers another notable quality. It hosts my photos from panoramio.com. I've posted photos from all over the globe onto this website and after Google purchased Panoramio, it began to host the photos for viewing on Google Earth and Google maps. I have some popular photos posted in Greece, Brazil and Argentina (popularity guided by user comments, views, favorites and other factors about which I know very little). However my most popular photos are in Chicago and Los Angeles. Here's what you do. Go to maps.google.com and then click the little box on the satellite map image that says "More" click "Photos" and voila, the first images shown over Chicago and Los Angeles are mine. Props to Jacob who took the Chicago City Skyline photo. The Los Angeles photo is of a house used in Hollywood as a Witches "Spadena" House for a movie set. These are not my best photos, one is not even my own, but I'm proud to see these photos just a mere two clicks away on any computer. I'm still not a popular as my only blog reader who appears on Wikipedia, but we all have dreams.

West Side Park

Because my only reader, Jeff, appreciates baseball, I thought I would post a quick little fact I found out this week:

West Side Park (The West Side Grounds) is where the Cubs played between 1893-1915. It's where they won their only two world series'. It's where they won 116 games in one season, setting a major league record. It's where Tinker to Evers to Chance became the most famous double play combination in the history of the game. Its where Three fingered Mordecai Brown (who had four fingers, btw) pitched countless complete games and where Ty Cobb lost to the Cubs in the 1908 World Series. Honus Wagner and Christy Matthewson fell victim to many Cubs teams in this era. Tris Speaker and Cy Young and Nap Lajoie played there and had the Cubs not moved to Weeghman Park in 1916 so would have Babe Ruth. It's dimensions were:
Left field: 340 feet; center field: 560 feet; right field: 316 feet.

It's where Cap Anson got hit number 3,000 and Kid Nichols got his 300th win. It's also exactly where my office building is at the University of Illinois Chicago Medical District.

No one else may care, but I now feel a newfound and ethereal bond with the courtyard right outside my window that quite literally served as the foundation upon which the Chicago Cubs would build my favorite franchise. The building I work in sits where right center field and its grandstands would have been if the stadium has not been torn down in 1920 and sold for lumber scraps. I can actually close my eyes and picture being at the last Cubs world Series win in 1908. This of course is aided by the following embedded photos, which all came from the Chicago Daily News archives (and are public domain because they were printed before 1923). Enjoy the pictures!

Click on each one for more detail!

The West Side Park during the 1912 Season with new grandstands.

My office building currently sits in what used to be right-center field, my windows look out upon where home plate sat.

The 1908 National League Pennant above the box office at Lincoln Ave. and Polk St.

Spectators in the grandstand in right field were only 316 ft, from home plate and sit about where I sit at work. Many have bullhorns.

On August 30th, 1908

The Cubs' mascot at West Side Park!

Cubs' Coach Cap Anson ceremonially throwing the first pitch of the 1908 Season.

Pirates' Shortstop Luis Rivas, er, I mean Honus Wagner wearing a backwards cap at the West Side Park.

Mordecai "Three-Fingered" Brown warming up on the first base line.

Spectators after a regular season game.

Ty Cobb probably getting one of his forty-two career Major league hits.

President William Howard Taft waving to spectators as as he enters the Cubs West Side Park.

President Taft greeting New York catcher Chief Meyer.


Current location of the third base bleachers, Polk Ave. Shame.

For more photos search for "West Side Grounds" at the Chicago Daily News Archives.

Yu

B: "The guy at the gas station, his name was 'Yu'"

A: "His name was Chris?"

B: "No, that's what I'm saying, his name was 'Yu' Y-U."

A: "Why did I what?"

B: "No, you didn't do anything except for listen to me tell you that his name was Yu."

A: "I am so confused."

B: "Yu.was.his.name."

A: "No.I.was.n't."

B: "Forget it."

A: "What, what...you have to tell me."

B: "No he doesn't, he's gone."

A: "Who's gone?"

B: "Yu."

A: "I'm RIGHT HERE!"

B: "Yes YOU are, but Yu's over there."

A: "You.are.mental!"

B: "Maybe he is, maybe he isn't"

A: "Who is?"

B: "Yu is."

A: "No I'm not. You are."

B: "Exactly."

A: "Exactly."

[silence]

A: "Ohhhh... Now I understand. His name was 'Yu'. Third-person singular masculine pronoun and not second-person singular pronoun."

B: "Yep."

A: "Gotcha. That is confusing though. Imagine his birthday party: Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to YU, happy birthday to you."

B: "Ya, or,

Hey! Where did the birthday cake go?'
'Oh, I ate it'.
'That was for Yu!'
'Yes? I know. Oh, shoot! Third-person singular pronoun...darnit!' Want me to get another one?'
"yea, you probably should."
"No. I'll get it, he doesn't have to...oh, yea. ok."


A: "That would just be a lifetime of confusion."

B: "Thou art correct."

A: "Hmm, nice one."

B "Thank ye."

[more silence]

A: "Hey, where did you get those cool jeans?"

B: "Guess."

Stock Photo Girl

For those of you familiar with NBC's The Office, or more specifically, if you're familiar with the show's leading character, Michael Scott, then you'll know that there are more than a handful of similarities between his character and mine own. While he is purely FICTIONAL, I like to believe that we both do some REAL stupid things. In a newer episode this season (4) Michael Scott falls enamored of* a stock photo girl in an office supply catalog. The news from office supply company that she had already died squanders Michael's hopes. While my dreams have yet to be demolished, I share with Michael a very, very special thing; I, too, have my own stock photo love. Let me describe her:

I walk by her every day on my way to my office, every day she retains that same beautiful and brilliant smile. No matter what has happened in the world, let it be thousands dying by earthquake (more on this awful disaster later) or confusion with Florida ballots, my stock photo girl continually provides a sense of hopeful optimism each and every day. There she sits, arms around two other nondescript stock photo people, simply dazzling, shining out to all who pass by. Or so I thought.

My only concern, (I mean, apart from having fallen in love with a 256-colored print on heavy card stock), is what the poster is advertising. As brilliant as my stock photo girl glows, the unfortunate truth is that her poster informs passersby of the harms of cervical cancer. I mean, with all the other problems in the world, why does my stock photo girl have to be ladened with these specific woes?? She had been my one moment of optimism each and every morning, and now all I can see when I look into her beautiful semi-gloss, dot matrix-printed eyes is cancerous pain (and the reflection of the light in the hallway). I have no more faith...

I can only hope my stock photo girl continues her luminous radiance and that she can stay strong through these hard times. We all need someone (300 dpi or greater) to look up to.

Love,

Chris

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*I am hesitant to print "falls enamored" and must admit that I attempted a Google search to find the correct transitive verbs I could use before 'enamored'. (Yes, I could use a 'to be' verb but that's just lazy.) I also found that 'of' is a more correct preposition to use with "enamored" than is "with". Shocking!

Friday the 13th

When I woke up in the morning three days ago, I was grimly reminded by a melted chocolate candy bar on my pillow that it was the thirteenth of June; a Friday. I went to the wash off the sticky remnants of my midnight snack when I found that my faucet was leaking. I rolled my eyes to acknowledge that this day would be formulaically unlucky. "Hogwash!" I shouted in attempts to prove to the governing stars that luck was mere happenstance and that Gregorian calendarial date had nothing to do with it. I mean, that while I couldn't find my car keys this morning, I have had many similar frantic mornings in the past. (Why, last Monday I had to run naked and dripping out of the shower to turn off not just one, but three different alarm clocks on snooze). Yet, simply for theoretical purposes, I decided to not take a single risk with Lady Luck, I showered quickly, washed behind my ears, wore clean underwear, quickly bolted my house early and made sure not to step anywhere near the mud. As I drove out of the driveway, I looked both ways two times each. I'm not superstitious, but I'm damn well eager to avoid any astrological influence. The traffic lights were all out from the storm the previous night and road crews failed to pull down the stop signs at the nearest intersection. I, again, looked both ways twice and pulled out at four miles an hour to make my turn. Nope, nothing was going to make this day unlucky for me, I maintained total control. I vowed not to breach from my normal routine. Well, that was until my insatiable craving for a McDonald's breakfast sandwich at Union Station hit. To deviate from my normal routine showed lack of foresight, but my voracity outweighed my veracity and I went ahead. Hold your breath readers as I recall what happened next: nothing. "Ah ha!" I quite literally bellowed, "I have defeated the prognostications of evil!" You should have seen the look I got in the middle of a packed train station McDonald's. Everyone was looking at me quite oddly. As happy as a pig in....as a clam, I continued on my morning commute. I took the bus, walked to my office and attended a morning meeting all without problem. It seemed to me that I had defeated Mrs. Misfortune (the nemesis of Lady Luck) until when I began to get ready to leave my office and take my briefcase from my closet that I noticed in my peripheral vision that I had completed my entire day with a massive chocolate stain on my rear end. No wonder the odd looks, I had just broken my own record for total unit stupidity accumulated in one month, and I still have two weeks to go.

Banter on Chit-Chat

When I am asked the question, “How are you?” I respond with “Well”, even if I am not well. I never respond differently so as not to convert small talk into large talk. No further inquiry should be needed. I will only reply differently when I have asked the question first and the other’s response is “Good”. When the question is reciprocated, I will also reply with a grammatically incorrect answer; “Good”. This is so I don’t appear elitist.*ª

You should never hear:

A: “How are you?”
B: “I’m well. How are you?”
A: “Not so well, actually. Life has been proverbially sucking.”
B: “Okay, have a great day.”
A: “Thanks, you too!”

The above conversation has never happened. I wish it had, and that I had played the part of person A. I don’t need people prying themselves into my personal life. Conversations occurring in passing, while walking down a hallway or in an uncomfortable environment such as an elevator or airplane bathroom queue, should be as curt as possible.

A week ago, I was walking down a hallway, debating whether or not to address the person walking towards me. Clearly, she was thinking the same thing because she hesitantly said, “Hi.” mere steps in front of me. Under pressure, instead of “Hello” I responded with, “How are you?” My question was tardy, we had already physically passed each other in the hallway, I knew it. She answered my question while already behind me and to my horror, returned my belated pleasantries. “Good. How are you?” Shoot! A simple ‘good’ would have sufficed. Now I’m stuck and time is scarce. Should I turn around and politely answer back, or answer very loudly without even turning or should I ignore her question and move quickly on? Well, I chose the latter option, and ducked into my office.

The next time I saw her, neither of us engaged in eye contact, let alone any other form of verbal communication. For the last week, I have focused on avoiding this woman in the hallway. Sometimes I even pretend to be on my cell phone when I walk past her office. I am immature, I know, but I put a lot of time and energy into being this way.

I suppose the point that I should be taking from my own reasoning is this: life’s insipid tea leaves forecast very little, so it is necessary to spice up the bland. I may just add a little more flavour into my next conversation and if I leave a bad taste in the back of your throat, suck it up.
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*ª I am elitist.

The Right Direction

A collection of national polls measuring Americans' opinions on whether or not the USA is heading in the right direction confirms wayward fears. An average of 18% of Americans affirm the nation's direction while 75.7% believe we need to change course. The confidence has been cut in nearly half from three years ago when an average of roughly 40% of Americans approved the direction in which their country was heading.

What is shocking to me is that even 18% (let alone 40%) of any group of people can get together, en masse, and affirm a specific heading. Now, this should be very easy in an automobile, when linear travel is most often the norm. One has normally two to four choices of direction upon asphalt. Given the flexibility of an off-road vehicle, a group of people can head in any planar direction. This, in itself, provides limitless direction and as a result, multitudinous dissent (provided no GPS navigation system is provided, (although one would be hard pressed to find an off-road vehicle without at least an iPhone anymore)). Yet, I look at a nation filled with over 300 million legal citizens rather than a Jeep Wrangler with seating for four. Think of a rocket ship, propelled by technological growth, national concern and social change. In what direction can this metaphorical ship head? Any. It has vertical, lateral and longitudinal rotational abilities. Moreover, the addition of a Z-coordinate allows us to head towards any infinite directions in space. Throw in a fourth dimension of time, and, well, you get my point. How can anyone, let alone 54 million Americans agree on a very, very specific vector?

There is an answer and that answer is simpler than aeronautical political science can explain. Americans, in general, believe that any direction "forward" will suffice. The minor directional bearings are assumed to play no large role in national government. Now if we define "forward" as positive movement in relation to one axis governing the "statusquo ", a whole hemisphere of travel is considered "wrong". Without getting too mathematical, the more variables that we restrict with a requirement of positive growth, the smaller our preferred directional course will be. Fitting into that pinhole becomes a more daunting task. Let's simply focus on "positive" spacial growth by moving up the Z-axis. I'll take away the dimension of time by adding another flat plane perpendicular to the Z-axis and call that our "goal". The National Government's job, now, is to reach our "goal" by moving in a forward direction (at a constant rate of speed). If it's direction is just the slightest bit skewed, then it will take calculatedly longer to reach plane "goal". If a backward direction is headed, then it will take either longer or never to reach plane "goal", depending on the value of the variables.

So how does one explain the existence of an estimated 54 million people who agree the United States is heading towards plane "goal"? Clearly it becomes the position of "goal". Some may place it very far away, others, very close. Some make "goal" a coordinate, or point. Some make it non-linear. Some make it so it is not perpendicular to the "positive" Z axis. Others make it an imaginary number (see Marx and Engels).

The only conclusion that I can draw is that while most can agree that the right direction in one with positive growth, there is a finite number of people who just don't seem to care where the nation is heading, as long as Dancing With The Stars is on.