Ugg Repellent: A Prayer for 2013

Snooki in UggsAs 2012 comes to an end
I wish the same fate for a trend
That I still cannot comprehend
Uggs, when it’s not chilly.

Are stinky feet the social norm
To which these girls look to conform
By wearing Ugg boots when it’s warm?
To me, it just looks silly.

Worn by someone mini-skirted
In summer, well that’s just perverted
The laws of fashion are subverted
And these Ugg-nuts are guilty.

There‘s really only one solution
We need a footwear revolution
I beg you, end this style pollution!
Comrades, are you with me?

Sequenced Uggs
Please God, make it stop.

A Few Home Truths About the Homeland Finale

Homeland IIWell, the suspense is over (sort of).  Homeland’s second season concluded with some lovey-dovey mushiness between Brody and Carrie, several pretty impressive pissing contests (Quinn vs. Estes, Saul vs. Estes, both of which Estes lost), and a few seconds of unexpected pyrotechnics. Those didn’t work out too well for Estes either, come to think of it.

Overall I give Sunday’s season finale a solid B grade – this despite Carrie’s and Brody’s Sam-and-Diane stuff, which has never really drawn me in.  But an episode that is Saul-heavy is pretty much guaranteed above-average marks from me.  Mandy Patinkin is amazing; his scholarly glasses and sensible clothing, his witty jousting with Estes, his perfectly timed f-bombs (To Carrie: “You’re the smartest and the dumbest f—in’ person I’ve ever known”) and his shaking voice at poignant moments (like when his wife told him she was coming home) can counteract a multitude of other sins.

Sins such as…

  • I still cannot get my head around the death of the Vice President, and Carrie’s ability to overlook Brody’s role in it.  She barely MENTIONED it, even.  That was completely out of character for her.  At the Veep’s memorial service, Carrie seemed completely blasé.  In fact, she kept looking back at Brody and raising her eyebrows like, “This guy was such a tool, am I right?”  She had known Walden was not a stand-up guy for some time, but I can’t see her just shrugging off his murder by her boyfriend.
  • What was Brody doing at that memorial service anyway?  He hated Walden (obviously) and clearly did not plan to stick around the Senate or seek another political office.  He told Carrie he wanted to be a builder or a teacher.  So, what was his intention… if not to plant a bomb and blow up the place, and everyone in it?  More on this later.
  • Where did Brody’s suicide vest disappear to?  When last we saw it, it was on the top shelf of his bedroom closet where is wife could easily find it.  (Back then I thought his lack of imaginative hiding places was a bit cavalier.)  But on Sunday night, Brody arrived home to find the contents of his closet placed in piles on the bedroom floor, as his wife kicked him to the curb.  I thought he would freak out and start sweating – Nick Brody is a sweater when he’s nervous – but he was completely unfazed.  How does one dispose of a suicide bomber vest?  Maybe you use it to blow up your car at a future date.  Again, more on this later.
  • After a massive explosion nearly leveled Langley, the suspension of my disbelief got pretty shaky.  First off, Carrie was once again knocked unconscious.  It was presumably her third concussion that week, and she was still running around like one of Charlie’s Angels?  The NFL would have benched her for the season, but Brody let her get behind the wheel.  Yikes.
  • And what about that car?  It was parked at Langley, but it showed neither a ding nor a speck of dust.
  • Why did Carrie have a stash of cash and a fake passport, birth certificate and driver’s license in a bunker-like storage unit?  When did she determine she might someday need to flee on foot across the border to Canada?
  • I hated the scene between Brody and Mike, when Brody essentially told his friend he could continue his affair with Jess and look after his kids because “he wouldn’t be able to” for a while.  Creepy, to start with.  Also just awkward.  I read somewhere that the scene was pretty heavily edited at some point before it aired, and it felt like that to me.

After weeks of painting Brody as a softhearted romantic, writers spent much of the finale trying to recapture the intrigue from Season One, i.e. is Brody a bad-guy terrorist, or just a victim?

There was something about his car keys that every conspiracy theorist on the internet seems to have picked up on, but I totally missed.  Apparently he passed his car keys to someone outside the memorial service.   He could have been a valet, a co-conspirator of Brody’s or a follower of Abu Nazir’s who wanted to set Brody up.  At any rate, some Homeland fans suspect that this shady keeper of the keys was behind the explosion at Langley.

If Brody wasn’t set up, how did all the networks wind up with his taped suicide confession?

So many questions to be answered in Season Three… we hope.

Here’s a new plotline I’d like to see.  I think it’s safe to assume that Carrie will spend at least the first few episodes of the coming season trying to clear Brody’s name, while others seek to destroy him.  (How she will accomplish her part from within the walls of the CIA is anyone’s guess.)   Meanwhile, Brody will stay in Canada.

QuinnWhat about a Quinn/Carrie hook up?  At the proverbial water cooler, a colleague made a great point: Writers must have bigger things planned for Peter Quinn.  Rupert Friend is a fairly well-known British actor (check him out in Mrs. Palfrey at The Claremont) and too fantastically handsome to waste.  What’s more, Quinn clearly has a soft spot for Carrie, since he refused to kill Brody in part to spare her pain.

Bye-bye Sam and Diane, bring on a love triangle!

For a Safer America, I’ll Take Progress Over Perfection

Children PlayingMy plan had been to blog something humorous this afternoon, or at least try to, but after today’s horrific school shooting in Newtown, Connecticut that’s not going to happen.  I can’t find much humor in anything.  Even sarcasm fails me today.

By coincidence, this morning I was scheduled to read to four- and five-year-olds at a colleague’s daughter’s pre-school.  By the time I got there, I’d already heard the terrible news.  As I read to them about a frog who played t-ball on a team (appropriately) called “The Giants”, I stared into their innocent, rapt little faces and felt crushing sadness.  I met their teachers, who were kind, loving and patient with the kids.

Despite the high security at this downtown San Francisco location (I needed to be on a guest list and show an ID to get past security guards) students and staff are still vulnerable.  If someone is violent, vengeful, unbalanced and determined to hurt someone… he will find a way to work his evil.  But that doesn’t mean we should do away with badges, screeners, security guards and guest lists.  We must do what we can to stay safe, and prevent violence.

One of the arguments I hear frequently against gun control legislation is, if a crazy person wants a gun he’ll get one.  Gun control won’t stop him, so let’s not make any changes until we find a perfect solution.

This violates one of my favorite maxims:  Don’t let perfection be the enemy of progress.

Hand holding gunFederal law prohibits most convicted criminals from buying, owning or transporting a firearm.  A background check of a would-be gun owner must also ensure that he/she has not been ruled mentally defective or been committed to any mental institution, is not an illegal alien, has not been dishonorably discharged from the military, has not renounced his/her U.S. citizenship, and does not have a restraining order or domestic violence conviction (even a misdemeanor).

On paper this should be reassuring, but in the coming days we’ll likely discover that today’s gunman was an American citizen who had never been committed to a mental institution, or convicted of a serious crime – which would have meant his gun ownership was perfectly legal.

Does this mean we should do away with background checks because they don’t successfully stop all homicidal gunmen?

Or maybe we’ll find that this angry, destructive man couldn’t pass a background check – or never even applied for one.  Perhaps he just stole his guns (plural) from a neighbor or family member.  Even so, the same question would apply.

If the gun control laws we have in place today aren’t protecting us, does that mean gun control is bad?  If this theory were applied equally throughout our lives, modern America would resemble the wild, wild west.  Drugs would be legal, because clearly criminalizing them has not been effective.  And why bother trying to enforce maximum blood alcohol levels, since every weekend brings drunken driving arrests all over the United States?

So why would we refuse to introduce tighter gun controls, just because they won’t prevent all gun violence?  Wouldn’t even a reduction be worth it?  How many more innocent victims must there be, before we get serious about limiting access to firearms?

As I said, I won’t be surprised if we discover that the Connecticut gunman bought his guns legally.  But I’ll also guess that people close to him knew he was troubled.  He may have dabbled in counseling, but probably never received consistent, in-depth psychiatric care.  If this sounds familiar, it’s not your imagination.  It was the same story in Tucson, Arizona and Aurora, Colorado.

Too bad guns are so much easier to get than ongoing, quality mental healthcare.

Above all, it’s NOT a matter of education.  (I heard this argument on Fox News recently after the murder/suicide of NFL player Jovan Belcher.)  Today’s perpetrator was very, very knowledgeable about guns.  He knew they were great for killing people, first off.  He also knew the difference between a semi-automatic Bushmaster .223, a Sig-Sauer and a Glock.  He knew how to load them, and shoot them with deadly accuracy.  He knew he’d need a bulletproof vest to carry out his mission – which included killing himself, before police could do it for him.  This guy was nothing, if not educated about guns.

Some will cite 2nd Amendment rights, but I’d argue that the 20 children and 6 adults in Newtown, Connecticut had constitutional rights too — to life, liberty and pursuit of happiness.  What about those rights?

I want to believe that leaders in Washington will finally sprout a collective backbone, and hammer out gun control legislation that — while not perfect — will make America safer.  But somehow I doubt it, based on the puerile squabbling about the fiscal cliff we’ve witnessed recently.

Will someone finally be brave enough to lead the charge?

A Poem for Homeland

Homeland Poster

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s crunch time at the CIA
The end is just one week away
And you know there’ll be hell to pay
Or so it stands to reason.

Carrie’s eyes still bug profusely
Sanity she clings to loosely
As things with Brody get more juicy
Since Jess gave him his freedom.

Estes wants to take down Saul
Who knows his secrets, after all
His drone strikes and covert cabals
Will he fire Saul for treason?

What’s more, just to be versatile
Will Dana finally crack a smile?
Her potty mouth and teenage bile
She’s less girl, than demon.

Let’s not forget that sneaky Quinn
What a wild card he has been
Will he kill Brody? Where and when,
Will his plot reach completion?

What kind of closure will we see?
Resolution or more tease?
To set us up for Homeland Three
Guess we’ll find out… next season.

A Pretty Penny

A pennyI often have to remind myself that the U.S. economy is a service economy because let’s face it, even when only seeking the most mundane assistance…how often do any of us really feel like we’re being served?

Sometimes it’s subtle, like when a post office worker moves at the speed of Dutch elm disease, completely oblivious to those of us waiting in line on our lunch hours.  Or when a sales clerk answers my product questions monosyllabically, seemingly intent on being so unhelpful that I just give up, and go home empty-handed.

Occasionally, however, I encounter customer service that is so shockingly bad – intentional, and carefully calculated – that it deserves its own blog post.

Behold two stories of service so appalling, it was funny:

The first story comes from my friend Jenni, and I know it’s true because you can’t make this stuff up.  On Friday night she was perusing the Comcast website, and a chat window popped up.  Such proactive online chats are generally triggered under two conditions: a website visitor remains on a page long enough to indicate he/she might need help, and there is bandwidth in the customer service center.  It’s pointless for a company to offer chat, if there’s no representative available to be part of the conversation.

When invited to chat, Jenni typed a message, and waited for a response.  She waited, and waited.  After several minutes she sent another message. “Are you there?”  Again, no response.  At this point, she was vexed.  She wrote, “Comcast never fails to disappoint. You initiate the chat and disappear. One more chance.  Are you there?”

The service agent immediately responded “Nope”, and ended the session.

Comcast is notorious for shoddy service.  I’ve received the Comcast treatment myself many times, so I would have thought it impossible for that company to shock me.  But that was bad customer service on a whole new level.

Now, my story.  This morning I battled the holiday crowds in San Francisco’s Union Square.  I had an errand to run at Macy’s, and afterwards stopped at Stanley’s gourmet pretzel cart at the front entrance for a soda.  I was parched, and $1.50 seemed a small priced to pay for relief.

My wallet held a $20 bill, a single and a fist full of change. So that the young woman managing the cart wouldn’t have to break a twenty, I gave her a $1 bill and $.50 in change including five pennies.

Her response:  “Ooh, do you have anything other than pennies?”

I was completely stumped.  Often a cab driver or shopkeeper will be unable to break a twenty or something, because they are running short of change.  But I’ve never, ever had someone balk when I paid the correct amount for an item, no change required.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, we don’t take pennies.  We only take nickels, dimes and quarters.”  Or maybe she said, “We don’t work in pennies.”  I was so shocked, I think I lost consciousness for a second.

Was she prejudiced against Abraham Lincoln, and therefore anti-penny?  Unlikely, since I figure she had plenty of $5 bills with Abe’s face on them in her till.

No, she was just a garden-variety penny hater.

After considering, then rejecting, the idea of explaining the term legal tender to her, I did what any sane person would do; I burst out laughing, grabbed my soda and left her the money.

“Sorry about that,” I said.

I think that’s when she swore at me.

I love my hairdresser, Ray.  His salon was my next stop.  I plopped into his chair and immediately told him the story of the penny-hater.  He vowed to stop by her cart on the way home to buy a pretzel…. with pennies, of course.

Likewise, if any of you find yourselves in Union Square before the holidays, please pay a visit to Stanley’s gourmet pretzel cart and spread some cheer — one penny at a time.

And be sure to tell them Kimbo sent you!

Changing Places

https://www.instagram.com/p/R3aaydAo25/

It had been a long time since I’d been to London. A LONG time.  Some things haven’t changed.  If you close your eyes and throw a rock in any London shopping district, you’ll hit a Russell & Bromley shoe store — just like in the good old days.  (Think Gap stores in the U.S.)  Russell & Bromley has lovely shoes… and the boots. Oh my, the boots!

Hobbs and Jigsaw are still in business too, enticing vain and materialistic females like myself with their beautiful shoes and clothes at ridiculous prices, thanks to crummy exchange rates.

London taxi drivers are still courteous and friendly, and so well-educated they need never ask their passengers for directions.  (San Francisco taxi drivers, I’m talking to YOU.)  My driver from King’s Cross station not only remembered the residential street of my little Kensington hotel… he also knew the street number off the top of his head.

Walk down any London street, and seven of ten passers-by will be either American, or speaking a language other than English.  London remains one of the most culturally diverse cities on earth, so if you dream of luxuriating in the sounds of Dr. Doolittle or Mary Poppins…. You should probably just rent a DVD instead.

Everywhere you look, there’s history.  That’s always been my favorite part.  That, and the taramosalata – a Greek dip made of salted and cured cod roe, lemon juice, olive oil and vinegar.  It’s nearly impossible to find in America — even Greek restaurants in the U.S. seldom offer it — but it’s everywhere in Great Britain.

Some things probably haven’t changed, but I’ve just become more aware of them as I’ve matured.  For example, it occurred to me on this trip – now that I have a bum, 40-something knee that is practically devoid of cartilage – that London restaurants all house their restrooms downstairs.  That is, down a steep, winding staircase with tiny steps.  At the end of a long day of pounding the pavement, a visit to the loo feels a lot like a forced march.

I do not understand the origins of the term “skip to the loo” but I’ll tell you this; It isn’t British.

Still, there have been changes since my last visit.  At pubs these days, you are unlikely to get traditional English peas as a side dish.  Instead, your fish and chips or burger will be accompanied by puree of peas.  Sometimes (i.e. at the Britannia pub, Kensington) the puree is yummy thanks to garlic and spices mixed in.  But in other cases, when it’s straight puree, it’s decidedly Gerber-esque.

The only change that truly disappointed me in London was the infiltration of American chain stores.  On just a few blocks of Kensington High Street I encountered a Gap, an Urban Outfitters,  a TJ Max, an American Apparel, three Starbucks and a Pizza Hut.  There was even a Whole Foods, with prominent signage urging patrons to order their Thanksgiving turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce early.  Huh?  Like I said, there are loads of  American ex-pats in London.

On the King’s Road off Sloane Square there’s both an Anthropologie and (gulp) a Banana Republic.  A little piece of my soul died when I saw that.

At its core, much of St. Andrews remains unchanged; The University is 600 years old, and the small town is full of medieval ruins so modernization isn’t a priority.  There’s still just one cinema, but alas there is now also an H&M, a Subway and a Starbucks.  Today’s St. Andrews pub grub includes truffle fries and gnocchi.  Gnocchi!

Progress is not all bad, however.  At the renowned Thai restaurant Nahm-jim — new since my last visit, and deemed the best Thai restaurant in Great Britain by angry chef Gordon Ramsey – I had something called “haggis bombs”, fried wontons filled with that special Scottish meat concoction.  They were delicious!

St. Andrews has always been a tourist destination, because it’s the Home of Golf.  But its transformation to a shopping and foodie paradise is more recent.  I blame Wills & Kate.

I agonized about bringing my monster, back-breaking camera on this trip.  What if I lost it, or dropped it?  Luckily, I didn’t and I didn’t… and I have the pictures to prove it.

Jack Hannahan Gets a Stocking Full Of Kryptonite

IMG_2850I am sad that Jack Hannahan — a.k.a. Cleveland Indians third baseman Supermannahan — has not been tendered a contract by the Tribe for 2013. There had been rumors about this for a while; The team wanted to make way for Lonnie Chisenhall at third.

Jack Hannahan batted .244 with four homers last season. Chisenhall played less than half as many games, and batted .268 with five homers.

Hannahan was gracious, as always.  “The writing is on the wall as far as Lonnie getting a chance to play every day,” he told MLB.com. “I’m excited for him to get that opportunity to showcase what he can do.”

“I had two great years in Cleveland.  I love playing in Cleveland. I love the fans of Cleveland… I really believe in what they’re doing there as far as getting a team that can contend and play in October.”

From your lips to the baseball gods’ ears, Jack.

Hannahan is renowned for being a great teammate in the clubhouse.  Fans will remember the story of Indians players passing the hat to pay for a private plane, so that he could be on hand for the premature birth of his son in August 2011.  He will be missed.

Tribe pitcher Vinnie Pestano reacted on Twitter; “Upsetting news about Hanny. Part of the business but he’s the best teammate I’ve ever had. Not gonna find anyone who cares more for his guys.”

Over the first 30 games of 2012, before being sidelined by a back injury, Hannahan batted .287 with three homers.  Here’s hoping he lands well, and can do it again.

Enjoy some of my favorite Supermannahan photos, taken when the Indians played the Giants in June 2011, and last season when they took on the Oakland A’s.  Wonder if Jack would fancy northern California?  The weather that day in Oakland was unreal.

He wouldn’t be the first to be bitten by the Bay Area bug…

Abraham Lincoln: In Fine Voice

Lincoln Movie PosterBecause I object to Black Friday’s commercialism — and the media-fueled, undignified behavior it provokes each day-after-Thanksgiving — I avoid the annual retail hoopla at all costs.  I usually hide out at the movies… along with thousands of other agoraphobic Bay Area residents.

Amazed that we’d all forego spending Thanksgiving night on the sidewalk, just for the remote (pun intended) chance of buying a 52” HDTV at a steep discount on Friday morning?  Speaking for myself, I’ll pass. I prefer holiday cocktails in a glass not a thermos, and generally avoid turkey and stuffing that has been stored in a beer cooler.

So, I spent Thanksgiving with friends. And on this Black Friday, I squeezed into my yoga pants with the elastic waistband (damn you, pumpkin bread pudding!) and drove to the ‘burbs to see Steven Spielberg’s historical drama Lincoln.

Everything you’ve heard and read about the film is true; Daniel Day-Lewis is an incredible Abraham Lincoln.  He is tall and gangly, with a beard and worried wrinkles.  He IS Lincoln — so much so that for the rest of my life his will be the face I see when I picture America’s 16th president.

(Sally Field is also a very convincing, overwrought Mary Todd Lincoln, and one of my favorite actors — Joseph Gordon-Levitt — plays eldest Lincoln son Robert Todd.)

It is a great film, and I found it extremely engrossing despite its two-and-a-half hour run time.  Yet, I was a little distracted by Lincoln’s voice.  Knowing the President’s physical stature and tremendous accomplishments, one might assume that he had a deep, booming, commanding voice.  No so, apparently.  Filmmakers did their homework, and based on historical records Day-Lewis went with a soft, reedy voice for Lincoln.

Much has been made of this in the press, so I was practically expecting to hear Pee-wee Herman.  It wasn’t that extreme. Besides, the deepness of Day-Lewis’s voice wasn’t the distraction.  It just reminded me of someone.  But who?  It took nearly an hour for it to hit me.

Grandpa SimpsonDaniel Day-Lewis’s Lincoln voice sounds just like… Grandpa Simpson.  ABRAHAM Simpson, that is.  You know, from The Simpsons?  I kid you not; His name is Abe.  (Is he honest? Wikipedia doesn’t say.) And just like President Lincoln, Grandpa Simpson tells stories and anecdotes that others sometimes find tedious and/or pointless.  Coincidence?

Click the link.  See the film.  Judge for yourself.  Am I wrong?

A Good Tweet Spoiled

John PetersonTwitter is a place where folks do their best to be clever in 140 characters or less.  Some – like @bastardmachine, @jimmytraina and @BMcCarthy32 – succeed.  I love their quick wit and irreverence.

Too bad we also have Twitter bottom feeders like Donald Trump.  Last night as Barack Obama won a second term as our president, The Donald was tweeting crazy, inflammatory foolishness and tilting at windmills.  (His “hair” never moved despite all that wind.  But something tells me you knew that.)

Unfortunately, everyone already knows The Donald… primarily thanks to The Donald himself.  There is nothing new to be gained by ridiculing the already ridiculous, so instead I invite you to consider another Twitter user you may never have heard of.

John Peterson is a professional golfer.  A very handsome professional golfer.  A 23-year old Texas native who graduated from LSU, he’s a three-time All-American and 2011 NCAA Division I Champion. You may recall that I blogged about him this summer, after his hole-in-one at the 2012 US Open.

He is also a Republican, and let’s just say Mitt Romney accepted Tuesday’s outcome with a lot more grace than John Peterson did.

The tweet that really got me was this one:

John Peterson Tweet

I can at least be gratified that this only got 23 retweets.

This guy is a college graduate right?  When was the last time he read something other than a scorecard, like maybe a newspaper? Or traveled to a place that doesn’t have a golf course?  He postures like someone who is politically savvy but come ON.  Switzerland?

I mean, Switzerland is great.  However, while tax rates are similar to those in America, the cost of living is very high.  A 2009 report by Union Bank of Switzerland showed that residents in Geneva and Zurich pay approximately 20% more for products, services and accommodation than others in Western Europe.  What’s more, the Swiss pay approximately 45% more for food.

Another insightful tweet, this one about the rising price of gasoline in the U.S. — which is all President Obama’s fault, naturally:

Actually, I suspect any Swiss resident would be thrilled with $6 per gallon gas — today, or four years from now.  Based on a quick internet search, a gallon of gas in Bern, Switzerland will apparently run you $7.38. 

Better be sure the Gulfstream’s tank is full before you leave, John.

Switzerland is a tolerant society, and discrimination against homosexuals is constitutionally prohibited.  In fact, thanks to a 2005 national referendum, Swiss same-sex couples enjoy the same rights as married couples in next of kin status, insurance, taxation, and shared possession of dwelling

Oh, and there is no state religion in Switzerland.  I’m just saying.

What might surprise Peterson most is Switzerland’s health care law mandating that everyone buy coverage, which is subsidized by the government.  Wait, I thought Republicans did not APPROVE of healthcare mandates?

I wonder if John Peterson has confused Switzerland with The Swiss Colony?  Could be that the guy just loves a good cheese log. 

A few more tweets from John Peterson are below.  Unfortunately, he deleted several others advocating secession from “the Union” by “the Confederacy” (which according to John, is where the last truly brave Americans all reside) before I could capture the images. 
 

With World Series Parades, I Win Some, I Lose Some

Pat Burrell
Pat Burrell

How do I put this?  I went to the World Series Parade in San Francisco today, and was a bit underwhelmed.

Winning the World Series for the second time in three years feels amazing, and is cause for great celebration in the Bay Area.  I come from a city (Cleveland) that is positively starved for a national championship of any kind, so I feel a bit guilty for nit-picking about the parade.

I don’t want to be THAT PERSON: The one who whines about some ridiculous non-hardship, as if I’m really put out.  And I really don’t want to be labeled a humble braggart.

You are familiar with the term humble braggart, right?  They are those falsely modest folks who say stuff like…

  • Bummer, the limo that drove me to my appearance on Letterman hit a pothole, and I spilled my glass of Swarovski-studded limited edition luxury vodka all over my Vera Wang dress.  I hate it when that happens!
  • I never gain weight, no matter how much ice cream I eat.  It’s really frustrating.
  • My husband and I braved Hurricane Sandy in our Greenwich Village brownstone.  It was terrifying.  I mean, I had to move my red carpet gowns to a different closet because of a leak!  (A real celebrity made this statement today. I’m not kidding.)
  • Why aren’t OUR World Series parades that good anymore?

All that said, 2012 parade organizers made some changes that I didn’t really consider enhancements.

This year, players rode in convertibles rather than motorized trolley cars.  I’m not sure why.  To be fair, there is a downside to trolleys; a player can only be seen well from one side of the street as they pass.  In 2010 Matt Cain was on the “wrong” side of the trolley for me, and I was disappointed not to get a good look at him.

But the upside of a trolley is the riders are elevated, making them much easier to see if they are facing you.  While I didn’t see Matt Cain in 2010, I saw Tim Lincecum, Brian Wilson, Freddy Sanchez and others very well, even though I was pretty far back in the crowd.   I got some fantastic photos that day, which set the bar pretty high.

This year, I waited for more than two hours but barely saw any players for more than one or two seconds, because fans standing in front of me blocked my view.  Also, the cars drove by pretty fast.  I think they were running a little late.

Big surprise: Pat “The Bat” Burrell provided the best photo-op of the day!  He was riding in the scouts’ trolley.

Organizers also chose to intersperse players’ cars, and slower moving trolleys carrying family members and Giants staff.   There were sizeable gaps between vehicles, which made the parade feel kind of long.   Besides, while I’m sure members of the Baer family are very nice I’m not really all that interested in them, even if they are throwing Halloween candy in my direction.   Next time, let’s put THEM in the cars that zip by at 20 mph.

Starting tomorrow, baseball will be 100%, officially over for 2012.  No more crowds wearing orange and black, streaming towards Third and King Streets.  No more detours, or street closures, or parades.  No more ballpark bratwurst, or trips to the dugout store.  (I can’t promise this last one.  It’s aspirational.)

It’s NBA season now, and time to turn my attention to the Cleveland Cavaliers and the Golden State Warriors.  Sadly, I don’t think either team stands to fare as well as the Giants did this year.

So I guess it may also be time to start planning my trip to 2013 spring training.