Notes on Nothing 2.0

I'm going to add to this all day. So you can experience my psychological breakdown. Nah, nah... I'm kinda in good shape this morning, workwise. Already I can tell this will be boring for you. For both of you.

Fell asleep listening to "The Ricky Gervais Show" Season 3 Podcast. Christ, I hadn't listened to it in a while -- perpetually hilarious. Sometimes so funny, I can't believe it exists. You know that feeling?

So anyway my "boss", Big Poppa's birthday is Sunday. A devoted Yankee fan born in the Bronx. He's heartbroken again of course over this season. Seriously heartbroken. Anyway, he gets an email today from Jim Bouton, former pitcher for the Yankees, and author of Ball Four! He was shocked! So I google the email address, and it brings me to Jim Bouton's official website!

Over the years, Ralph's met many Yankees (even conducted a rare interview with Joe Dimaggio in Florida back in the 60s as a student reporter). He has met Bouton before, but it's been 30 years. In fact, he recounts an incident where he met Bouton before a game and predicted it would be his first major league win! And it was! Big Pops left a note on his windshield congratulating him, and later received an autograph from the winning pitcher!

Still, he doesn't know how he'd get an email from Bouton all these years later wishing him a Happy Birthday! Although Ralph recalls that it was his friend Al Sorvino who started the Jim Bouton fan club lo those many years ago! But he probably hasn't heard from Sorvino in as many years either.

What interests me most about Bouton is that he helped create Big League Chew, that shredded tobacco-like gum we'd pack our cheeks with back when Billy Martin was still driving off the road.

But really -- how did Bouton know Ralph's birthday was coming up?

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Tonight's the Vice-Presidential Debate. The real debate is whether Governor Palin will snap. I see it coming -- watch what her supporters call her "gutsiness and tenacity." It comes across as bad acting to me -- a high school production of "All the King's Men" televised to millions. She's going to smile, wink, and her head's going to crack in half revealing the beast from Revelation screaming "I can see the Apocalypse from my house."

And what's wrong with elitism anyway -- am I supposed to endear myself to these American slobs?

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Suddenly this blog's become a cross between Harry Golden and Larry King. Unfortunately, I'm aiming for a combination of Myles na gCopaleen and Joey Adams.