The Face Of A Thousand Years.

*Outsports

The weekend seemed to have a momentum of it's own. Pony picked me up from my small bungalow and it was all sideways from there. A lovely evening of drinking, gossip, screaming and merriment lasted until the wee hours. The Yankees game against the Angels on Saturday was an endless affair that Pony could barely sit through. Actually she didn't. She didn't even try. And who could blame her. The game was tied at one from the second to the 12th inning. The Angels managed to score an extra run in the 13th that ended the whole spectacle.

Then it was off to the Hollywood Bowl, but before we could get there we were slapped right across the face with the notion of the Factory being closed. Closed on June 19th. We missed it by a couple of weeks. Their website refers me to some of their other southland locations. You know, like in Riverside or Rancho Cucawhat. No thank you. We managed to find another Italian restaurant on Hollywood Boulevard that didn't necessarily fill the void. There was however a pleasant waitress that prompted us to ponder the age old question of whether they are real or fake.

The lackluster food and super slo-mo service made us late for the show. Due to some misprint or Ticketmaster treachery or both, Band of Horses took to the stage at half past 6 or something and we missed over half their set. The sound was hideous and an already incomprehensible band was rendered more so. And to add insult to injury as soon as we sat down the people on the other side of Pony were enjoying a fine plate of Angel Hair pasta just like the one that had made us late. Then we had to sit through some David Byrne wannabe tweaker for well over an hour. I don't know what we would have done without the booze.

The Decemberists came on sometime while we were trying to acquire more booze. At this point I gave up all hope of being at the right place at any time. The Decemberists show was quite amazing. I won't get into much of the details, but later this week I will try to post some footage. I will say however that at one point these surly and crusty ladies in front of us turned around and shushed us. Actually shushed us at a rock show. Needless to say I had to tell the old bats to just shut the fuck up, and we made it though the rest of the show without any further disturbances from misplaced menopausal librarians.

Yesterday was a day of relaxation and more baseball. The Yankees made the most appalling display of run wasting besting the Angels 12 to 0. No baseball tonight since I'm sure you know the All Star Game is tomorrow night. I will be hosting an All Star party with all my baseball homies. Which at this point includes my stuffed broccoli plush toy and some Star Trek action figures. Can I get you anything Commander LaForge? No? You sure?

But as long as my singular interest in baseball keeps me from listening to NPR I'm willing to deal with the crushing loneliness and the merciless taunts. Life is sacrifice you know.