Author: Katie L. Carroll (Page 140 of 142)

Just Another Game at the Old Yankee Stadium

July 28, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

Last week I went to Yankee Stadium to watch the Bronx Bombers play the Minnesota Twins. There wasn’t anything particularly significant about this game. It wasn’t against a noteworthy rival, nor was it at a pivotal point in the season. It was simply a midsummer’s game on a Tuesday evening.

There are a few essentials for a game at Yankee Stadium: a hot dog and beer (which will only cost you $14.50, your left arm, and your first-born son), the reliable voice of Bob Shepperd (whose career as announcer has lasted more than two of my lifetimes), and the boisterous bleacher creatures (who are incredibly organized when it comes to chanting out the names of the Yankees’ starters—I would be very scared if this group ever decided to use their ability to rally folks for something useful) to name a few.

Then there’s always that fan who is so annoying that by the end of the game you want to ring his neck—or your own—just to put you out of your misery. When we first sat down, my brother and I found our prime candidate: a young boy, maybe about seven or eight (I know, how mean to pick on a little kid). But this kid was seriously annoying. He asked more questions than I thought humanly possible. In fact, I think every sentence out of his mouth was a question. Now I’m all for encouraging kids to explore and think and ask questions, but this was ridiculous.

“Who are the Yankees playing?” The Twins. “What are those things on the field?” Portable cages. “Why are they there?” To protect the players in the field during batting practice. “What’s the score?” The game hasn’t started yet, so it’s 0-0. “What time is it?” 6:54. “Who’s Babe Ruth?” He was a baseball player. “Is he playing today?” No, he’s dead. “Who’s that on the screen?” Derek Jeter. “Is Derek Jeter dead?” No, he’s the shortstop. “What’s a shortstop?”

The questions went on and on and on. I mean had this kid ever even seen a baseball game on TV? After about ten minutes of this, my brother and I were about ready to jump off the upper deck. Anything to make it stop!

Thankfully, we realized we were sitting in the wrong seats and quickly moved one section to the right. In our new seats, the only obnoxious fan we had to deal with was some annoying guy from California who was obsessed with Goose Gossage. For all his enthusiasm, he wasn’t very smart, and he was a bit drunk. He informed us that it took a lot of guts to name your kid Goose (even though Goose Gossage’s real first name is Richard and Goose is just a nickname…but really, this was guy a huge Yankee fan!).

Like I said, the game was nothing particularly special. But maybe it meant a little more to a few of the fans. It was the first time my three-year-old niece had ever been to Yankee Stadium. And it may have been the last time some of us will ever set foot in this Yankee Stadium because pretty soon the House That Ruth Built will be torn down.

I guess the new Yankee Stadium will be state-of-the-art with all kinds of food stalls and really clean bathrooms and all, but what about all the history and memories? Yankee Stadium is where my dad, my brother, and I sat in the bleachers and watched Aaron Boone hit a walk-off homerun in the bottom of the eleventh inning in game seven of the 2003 ALCS. This game gave me a glimpse of my dad as a kid, the way he chose just the right moments to flip his hat to the rally position, only to quickly flip it back when it wasn’t needed so as not to abuse the privilege.

I can’t help but be a little sad that Yankee Stadium is going to be destroyed…out with the old, in with the new. The mystique of an 85-year-old baseball icon reduced to a pile of debris.

Risque Party Magnetic Poetry

July 14, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

The magnetic poetry kit was a big hit at the party I hosted this weekend. Apparently the lack of punctuation didn’t bother my intoxicated friends. Alas there was no “pleasure pickle,” but both words did make an appearance. Just a quick disclaimer: These quotes get a bit graphic, so anyone with a sensitive stomach–or with any sensibilities at all–may want to refrain from reading further! I kept the space between magnets even when they made one word because some of the combinations are particularly creative.

If you are brave enough to persevere:

“bleed that perfect thought puppet” (ummm…eww, I think?)

“manipulate a precious chicken beneath old skeleton” (double eww)

“sweet steam y fire y sex” (sounds good to me–as long as it’s in the figurative sense)

“dance with green angel” (oddly sweet, although it did kind of remind of me Slimer from Ghostbusters)

“my love life is curse d” (so sad, but given the other phrases not terribly surprising)

“obedient famous people suck money” (what about those disobedient famous people?)

“play & drink but never sleep” (an apt description of my party!)

“imagine me between random girl s spurt ing” (hopefully the random girls are of age)

“I desire a hot naked good bald woman to come on” (who doesn’t?)

“she always eat s my pleasure monkey then howl s” (that’s just like her, isn’t it?)

“expose tremendous bosom & ache ing pickle” (oh, if only I had a tremendous bosom)

“explore another man bone in he r mouth” (really, no thanks…I’m all set)

I did leave out one that used the word “prostitute” because I felt it might be too offensive (I know, it must’ve been pretty bad given what I did include!). Oh, and I swear I didn’t make any of these up myself…this is really what is on my refrigerator right now. I’ll have to remember to rearrange the magnets before my nine-year-old nephew comes over!

A New Perspective on the Classic Van Gogh Painting SUNFLOWERS

July 10, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

Tomorrow I’m going to see a special Vincent Van Gogh exhibit at the Yale Art Gallery that features two of his most famous paintings, Cypresses and The Starry Night. Van Gogh happens to be my favorite artist.

The last time I saw a Van Gogh painting in person was in London’s National Gallery (yup, we’re back to London). I didn’t have high expectations when I first went there because I tend to prefer Van Gogh’s night and tree paintings to his sunflower ones, and the featured painting there is a still life of sunflowers in a vase, aptly called Sunflowers.

On my first visit to the gallery, Sunflowers had been moved from its usual spot to where the temporary exhibits usually are; that means it was stuck downstairs in the corner of the building. This area is different than the rest of the gallery because the rooms are much smaller and the walls are all painted with bright or dark colors–colours if you’re from London–instead of the typical beige.

The gallery was very busy that day. I squeezed my way into the tiny room with the painting. Temporary ropes had been set up all around the bottom edge of the wall so you couldn’t get close enough to touch the paintings. My first impression of Sunflowers was that it was…well…yellow. I got as close as I could in order to see the swirling brush strokes. Then I looked at it from one corner of the room, from the back center of the room, and finally the other corner of the room.

I left the Van Gogh room to check out some Monet paintings, and then came back for another look. My second impression was that it wasn’t as eye-catching as the painting A Wheatfield, with Cypresses. The blue-green swirls in the sky against the wheat-colored grass and the dark-green cypress trees really popped off the canvas. Sunflowers was still so…yellow.

Feeling very disappointed despite my low expectations, I went and found a bench so I could write about my experience. I was two rooms away from Sunflowers, but I caught a glimpse of it through the open doorways. This third, unexpected view was impressive. I actually think it really did take my breath away for a minute. The bright yellow background glowed as if the very sun shone in from behind. I’ve never seen paint take on such a life of its own. I didn’t even know paint could do that. Stunning. Absolutely stunning.

Then I noticed how all the people who went to look at Sunflowers got real close to it, like I had, only to walk away after a few minutes without a glance back. I wanted to stand on the bench and shout, “You’re looking at it all wrong! Come over here and look!” Naturally I didn’t do that. I wanted to be able to come back, and shouting in a gallery is a good way to get banned from it.

It took me more than three viewings and a two-room distance to see Sunflowers in the right light. All those people were looking but not really seeing it. I wondered what else I might have looked at only to see it from the wrong perspective. I sat and wrote and thought. Then a man came and sat next to me. He was there a few minutes before I glanced at him. Just as I did, he caught sight of the painting. His expression told me that he was having the same moment I had just had.

I couldn’t help myself; I had to say something to him. He thought I was a student (no surprise there), but it was great to share the experience. At least one other human in the whole gallery-of-oblivious-people got it. Oh well, their loss. I’m trying to keep my expectations low for the Yale exhibit–I hate being disappointed. I mean, how many unbelievable pieces of art can one guy paint? I’ll let you know!

Grammar Nerd Problems: Magnetic Poetry

June 19, 2008 / Katie L. Carroll

I received one of those magnetic poetry kits as a gift some time ago. It’s basically these small white refrigerator magnets, each with a different word on it. Now, the package says it’s supposed to cure writer’s block, but I find the whole thing a bit unsettling. For one, it has words like “prostitute,” “sex,” and “naked.” And I can’t tell you how many times the phrase “pleasure pickle” has shown up on my refrigerator. True, all these words have their place in the great lexicon of American language, but they don’t exactly stimulate me to create thought provoking prose.

Far worse than the risqué vocabulary (which is really more hilarious than offensive) is that the kit has no punctuation. I know, I know…I’m such a dork. Hear me out, though. Language, grammar, and punctuation are far from the stupor inducing lessons you remember from school. Truth be told, I’ve learned most of English skills by reading, not by doing lessons. With the risk of revealing what a true nerd I am, I’ll admit that over the years I have grown to enjoy the intricacies of a well-crafted sentence (not necessarily a long sentence).

In order for someone to understand what you’re trying to write, you have to use all these elements correctly and with purpose. Take the title of one of my favorite grammar books Eats, Shoots & Leaves. Notice the difference between that and the less dramatic “eats shoots & leaves.” Are we talking about a crazy murderer or a cute little panda? (If you have no idea what I’m talking about, I apologize for getting too writery on you! You can skip this and just reread the dirty words in the first paragraph!)

That brings me back to the word magnets. Without punctuation, I find it hard to put the words together in a way that makes sense. “Pleasure pickle” aside, I don’t want someone reading my fridge and getting the wrong idea! I want to create sentences that really mean something. Sentences that may even move people to laugh, cry, cringe, or yell. Who knows, one day my sentences might even inspire someone to get off the couch and do something better with her life.