Mojito withdrawal

Mojito

I’ve been back from Cancun around 16 hours, and I’m starting to shake and twitch due to the absence of a mojito from my system. This is not good.

This trip was so necessary, though, and it was the perfect type of vacation. We did absolutely nothing except lie by the pool, drink, swim in the pool, drink, drink at the swim-up bar, swim in the ocean, drink, eat and drink. All-inclusive hotels rock!

The food was fantastic at the Riu Palace Las Americas, as well, and I don’t mean that it was good for hotel food — it was just good. In fact, our last meal, at the fusion restaurant, would not have disappointed in the least if it were served at a restaurant in Manhattan.

The Cun pool bar

And between the minibar in the hotel room — tequila, rum, vodka, brandy and ice-cold Dos Equis Lager — and the availability of drinks everywhere, including having mojitos delivered straight to our chairs at poolside, I was basically on a five-day buzz.

There were several activities that would have been appealing if we had a couple of more days in Cancun — excursions, snorkeling, wave runners — but both of us have been so burned out, between my search for work and my girlfriend’s overabundance of it, that the pace of this vacation was perfect.

After wrestling with the decision, we made the last-minute call not to bring our laptops. And although our cell phones actually picked up a roaming signal, they were locked in a safe in our hotel room, in the off position, for the entire trip. We actually spent 15 minutes at an Internet kiosk, mostly to book our car service to take us home from the airport, and that was that.

I’m definitely feeling more like myself. I feel refreshed, and I’m anticipating the start of this baseball season more than I have in years, largely due to the new Yankee Stadium. My attitude about my job hunt is improved, although we’ll see if that newfound optimism can survive another empty week or two. I just feel great all around.

Now, where the hell can I get a mojito around here?

Riu Palace Las Americas

How does Ticketmaster get away with this crap?

Ticketmaster has been in the news quite a bit lately, and for all of the wrong reasons. Yet, despite the rhetoric of performers, venues and lawmakers, nothing ever seems to be done about all of its wrongdoings.

Ticketmaster SUCKS

When tickets for the upcoming tour by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band went on sale in February, potential ticket buyers, myself included, were left out in the cold. It seems that Ticketmaster conveniently decided to perform “routine maintenance” seconds after tickets to see one of the most popular artists in the world were made available for sale. But fear not, fans of The Boss: Tickets were available through TicketsNow, an online ticket broker selling seats at 10 times their face value. In a shocking coincidence, would anyone care to take a guess which company owns TicketsNow? If you guessed Ticketmaster, you are correct, but you win nothing.

Then, as if the entire process of trying to get Yankees tickets for the 2009 season hasn’t been enough of a fiasco, I read about this gem on a blog called New Stadium Insider. Apparently, a potential customer shelled out $900 for a ticket for Opening Day (don’t even get me started on the Yankees’ ticket prices), only to go through the Ticketmaster process and find that he was given a completely different ticket, nowhere near as good as his original seat, while the original ticket was relisted at $2,650. Someone spending $9 on a ticket should be entitled to the location they were promised, much less someone spending $900.

Then this morning, a good friend whom I had e-mailed information about a presale for U2 tickets informed me that Ticketmaster was pulling the exact same scam for U2 that it did for Springsteen — saying the site was down for maintenance and directing people to TicketsNow. Unreal.

Those three examples aside, anyone who has ever tried to get tickets has experienced the following scenario. Say, hypothetically, tickets to see Rush become available at 10 a.m. Why is it that upon getting through to the Ticketmaster system at 15 seconds after 10 a.m., the only seats available in a 20,000-seat arena are in the upper sections? Are we expected to believe that 12,000 or so of the 20,000 seats were sold in 15 seconds? Yet, should you surf to any online ticket broker, the prime seats that were never made available to you are mysteriously right there for the taking — at several times face value, naturally.

I really wish more performers, teams and operators of venues would follow the lead of Pearl Jam 15 years ago and fight Ticketmaster in every way possible. It’s sad that Pearl Jam tried to take a stand in 1994 and, 15 years later, the situation has gotten worse, not better.

Ticketmaster should be brought to its knees. Will anyone have the guts to do it? I doubt it.

Your 2009 Hoboken Honkies

I just finished fantasy draft No. 2 out of 3, this one done online. I present your 2009 Hoboken Honkies, round in parentheses:

C A.J. Pierzynski, CHW (19): All of the top-notch catchers got taken a little too early for my tastes, so I waited as long as possible.

1B Mark Teixeira, NYY (2): I normally stray from taking Yankees because I hate having players from my favorite team on my fantasy team, but he was by far the best hitter left.

2B Robinson Cano, NYY (8): See above on the topic of taking Yankees, but in round No. 8, this was highway robbery.

SS Michael Young, TEX (7): Why even bother explaining? I obviously have some sort of bromance with this guy, because he finds his way onto every single one of my fantasy squads. Still, 200 hits is 200 hits.

3B Ryan Zimmerman, WAS (6): There was a huge drop-off at this position after him.

OF Nick Markakis, BAL (4): He’s another guy I seem to draft all of the time, and I’m really hoping his power develops.

OF Bobby Abreu, LAA (5): I hate his guts as a fan and was happy to see him leave the Yankees, but from a fantasy standpoint, it’s hard to turn down power, speed and on-base percentage.

OF Jay Bruce, CIN (10): This kid was a beast when he came up in the middle of last season.

U Jim Thome, CHW (14): I normally won’t take guys who only qualify at DH, but it was hard to pass up 30 homers in round 14.

Johan Santana

SP Johan Santana, NYM (1): I can’t believe he was still there with the 12th pick. I detest the Mets, but not taking him here would be grounds to be banished from fantasy sports.

SP Roy Halladay, TOR (3): I absolutely love the one-two punch of Santana and Doc.

SP Justin Verlander, DET (11): This guy’s always a risk, but I took the same path in my first draft.

RP Carlos Marmol, CHC (9): If the Cubs win and his arm doesn’t fall off, he’s a good first closer.

RP Matt Capps, PIT (12): I’m not a big fan of taking closers from bad teams, but with the No. 12 pick out of 12, when you pick twice and then sit there scratching yourself for an hour, if there’s a run on a position (closers, in this case), you take what you can get.

RP Heath Bell, SD (13): I actually like him better than I liked Capps, but I think the Padres might actually suck worse than the Pirates.

P Johnny Cueto, SP, CIN (16): He’s another guy from my first draft, and he has big-time strikeout potential.

P Frank Francisco, RP, TEX (17): Now that he’s done throwing chairs at fans, I hope he can pick up some saves for a bad Rangers team.

P Jeremy Guthrie, SP, BAL (18): He’s yet another player on both of my teams. I do this way too much. He’s a solid starter, albeit on a bad team and in a hitters’ park.

P Manuel Corpas, RP, COL (20): He’s shaky, but he’s still a closer available in round 20.

B Nelson Cruz, OF, TEX (15): In the interest of full disclosure, this pick was an accident. I thought, for some ungodly reason, that Cliff Lee was still available, and I ran out of time, so the autodraft feature selected him. That being said, I’m happy with the pick.

B Hank Blalock, 1B/3B, TEX (21): What the hell was he doing out there in round 21?

B Orlando Cabrera, SS, OAK (22): I made this move just in case Young gets hurt, but I have a feeling Cabrera may be my first cut if I need someone at another position.

B Jeremy Hermida, OF, FLA (23): This was a pick based on potential. He started to come on last year. We shall see.

B Akinori Iwamura, 2B, TB (24): I cannot believe he was available in the last round of the draft. Having him may enable me to use Cano for trade bait.

Unemployment Nine: No LBI = summer bummer

Among the many things that absolutely suck ass about not having a job, the fact that (barring a last-minute miracle hire) I will not be a part of the beach house on Long Beach Island for the first time since 2002 royally blows.

5th Street, Beach Haven, Long Beach Island, NJ

LBI has been my summer mainstay for years and, while I know I’ll still visit a couple of times, it’s not the same as being a part of the house, and I hate that.

The only bright spot, as my girlfriend pointed out, is that we’ll get to do some different things that we ordinarily might not have done. When you’re part of a beach house, you almost feel obligated to go down every weekend, because you know in the back of your head that it’s already paid for.

But I’m still having a lot of trouble coming to terms with this. After seven straight summers of being in the same house, with pretty much the same core group of people, many of whom will likely be lifelong friends, the fact that I’m not already thinking about which beers to bring down to the house, or how many cases of G2 to fetch from BJ’s, is very, very strange.

We’ll salvage our summer. Ideas already being tossed around include Newport, R.I.; Reading, Pa., for outlet shopping and minor-league baseball; Philadelphia, to visit my girlfriend’s sister, get my ass kicked by her pit bull mix, eat a Tony Luke’s cheesesteak (or several) and hit Citizens’ Bank Park for a Phillies game; Cape May, N.J., just for the hell of it; and (for me, anyway) lots of softball and Yankees games.

I’ll do my best to prevent my summer from being another casualty of this economy, but all things being equal, I’m really, truly going to miss being a part of that beach house. Change is a part of life, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have the right to bitch about it!

Unemployment Nine: Transmission depression

A couple of months ago, the “Check Engine” light came on in my trusty 1997 purple Honda Accord. Some $460 later, I had a new torque converter in my transmission and new transmission fluid, and the car was driving better than it ever had in the six years or so that I’ve owned it.

1997 Honda Accord

Since picking the car up that day, it continued to perform wonderfully, until about 1 p.m. yesterday. I was driving over the Willow Avenue bridge that takes you from the Lincoln Tunnel into Hoboken and heard the engine revving at an alarmingly high level.

Obviously realizing something was wrong, I had already made up my mind to bring the car into the mechanic this morning. However, I never quite made it into the garage of my apartment building. The car drove slower and revved higher as I tried to get home and, finally, when I reached my driveway, it simply would not move at all when it was in drive.

One of my neighbors was kind enough to push me into the garage and into my spot. As I type this, I’m waiting for a tow truck to fetch my car and bring it to my normal mechanic in Queens. Some $1,600 later, I should have a rebuilt transmission and, hopefully, a car with some trade-in value.

I love my car, but it’s almost 13 years old, and the problems have been piling up for the past year or so. It has just under 109,000 miles on it, which is peanuts for a Honda, but it’s time to cut the cord.

Of course, as annoying as this is, it would be a lot easier to swallow if I had a freaking job.

When it rains, it pours.

Scrabble wusses

In my unemployed state, I’ve been playing an awful lot of Scrabble on Facebook — far too much if you listen to my girlfriend.

Facebook Scrabble

Over the past couple of days, I’ve been fortunate enough to have the right tiles to be able to clear my rack (heh heh, heh heh, I said “rack!”) and strike it big with the 50-point bonus you receive for doing so, which has propelled me to some huge early leads.

And three times in the past two days, the wimps and wusses I’ve played against have quit the game immediately after I played those big-point words.

Buck up, people. Coming back from a 100-point deficit is far from impossible. I actually managed to blow a 140-point lead, and I fell just short of coming back from being down 150 points.

Is it asking that much to play the game out? Wusses.

Unemployment Nine: I love a parade

I took a much-needed break from the drudgery and futility of this job hunt yesterday and went to the St. Patrick’s Day parade for the first time in many years. I had a blast and I’m very glad I went.

Blarney

Between getting into a restricted viewing area thanks to a good friend, meeting Blarney the Irish Terrier and just enjoying all the colors and sights, it was a great afternoon. And we naturally topped it off with Guinness, corned beef and even a little Jameson.

I seriously needed the time away from this apartment and this PC. Aside from the obvious frustration of being unemployed for more than five months, I got some more bad news Monday night.

First, I found out that another good friend of mine was laid off. Then, literally minutes later, my old roommate called to tell me about huge cuts at her former place of employment (she’s fine — she hadn’t worked there for a while).

Seriously, does it ever end?

The job listings are starting to pick up a little bit, which is good, but when you consider the 70+ résumés I sent out in January and February without a single response, it’s hard to get excited.

But at least for one day, I got to enjoy life, relax and have some fun. And there’s more of that on the way.

2009 St. Patrick's Day parade

Unemployment Nine: Taking advantage of my freedom

My frustrations with being unemployed have been pretty well chronicled by now. But with the approach of warm weather and baseball season, while my job hunt may still suck, things are taking a turn for the better in terms of fun activities to keep myself busy.

Riu Palace Las Americas, Cancun

Naturally, I will stay vigilant on my search for a new job. And as much fun as the stuff I’m about to discuss will be, I’d rather be employed. But it’s time to start taking advantage of the kind of time off I likely won’t have again until after I retire.

Tomorrow, I will attend the St. Patrick’s Day Parade for the first time in years. Thanks to a good friend, I’ll be in one of the viewing stands, which I’ve never done.

Next Thursday, my girlfriend and I leave for a long weekend in Cancun, at the Riu Palace Las Americas. I can already taste the tropical drinks at poolside.

Then, after arriving back in the States, hopefully with a tan, it’s time for baseball.

First, the Yankees will hold a workout at the new Yankee Stadium, open to full-season-ticket holders, April 2. Why not? I might as well make my first trip to the new ballpark.

Yankee Stadium

The following night, I have tickets for the Cubs-Yankees exhibition game.

Then, if I can get a cheap ticket, Saturday afternoon, April 4, I may try to go to the Red Sox-Mets exhibition game at the new ballpark in Queens, Citi Field. I really don’t care where I sit, so I’ll take any ticket. I just want to see another new stadium.

Oriole Park at Camden Yards

The Yankees open the regular season Monday, April 6 in Baltimore, and I was able to get face-value tickets via Ticketmaster, so I’m going to a road Opening Day for the first time ever. The game time is perfect: 4:05 p.m., which means I can leave at a reasonable hour and give myself plenty of time to enjoy Inner Harbor food (crab cakes!) and microbrews (Wharf Rat Porter) before gametime, and still get home at a reasonable hour.

Opening Day at the new Yankee Stadium is Thursday, April 16, and the Yankees and Indians also have a day game scheduled the following day.

Barring lightning striking during this dull job search, I hope to attend all of those. I’d never be able to do all of this stuff if I were employed.

So I guess there is some good to being out of work, after all. But in a perfect world, I’d start a new job Monday, April 20.

Mc9?

I was adopted and never had the burning desire to research my natural parents. I’ve always been fine with the fact that I was adopted, and my lack of desire to pursue the truth isn’t based on resentment — rather, the opposite: I’ve always assumed there was a good reason for what happened and left it at that.

McJew

When I was a kid, a lot of people guessed that I was German because of my platinum blonde hair and blue eyes — practically Hitler’s wet dream. But since my hair darkened around age six, the guess I hear the most is Irish.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve actually found myself drifting toward many Irish traits and products.

I definitely like to have a few drinks, and my beer of choice from the first time I tried it has been Guinness.

I love Irish whiskey — John Powers, Jameson, Tullamore Dew, Bushmills.

I took a liking to Irish music after initially playing it on jukeboxes to annoy a friend of mine who hated it, and I consistently listen to The Pogues (just saw them this past Friday), the Dropkick Murphys, Black 47, the Wolfe Tones, the Clancy Brothers, The Tossers, etc.

And I love the way the Irish express themselves. They always seem to find a nugget of humor, often self-depreciating, in the direst circumstances.

I was brought up Jewish, but my family isn’t very religious and, after my Bar Mitzvah, I pretty much dropped religion. I still consider myself Jewish, although I love to tweak people by telling them Yankee baseball is my religion.

I’m certainly not ashamed of being Jewish, and I’d never even think about converting to another religion, but I find religion in general, frankly, to be a gigantic bore, and nothing I’ve ever heard in a house of worship ever really moved me.

Yankee baseball being my religion isn’t that far from the truth, actually. I’ve been far more moved by Yankee rallies, Nets buzzer-beaters and Cowboys sacks of the opposing quarterback on third down than by anything from any religion. If this offends anyone, it’s not meant to, but that’s how I feel.

So is it strange that I feel so much more in touch with the Irish — which I may or may not actually be part of — than with the religion of my childhood? Is it weird that being at the Pogues show Friday night almost gave me a sense of pride, or that I’m extremely excited to go to the St. Patrick’s Day parade tomorrow, while nothing in religion has ever given me feelings like that?

Before anyone makes any suggestions about specific houses of worship, religions or whatever for me to try, please save your energy: It won’t work. At the age of 41, I’m not about to suddenly see the light and find inspiration in something that I’ve found to be nothing but a bore, a chore and a task for most of my life. Religions in general make no attempt to change with the times, and they’re not for me.

Writing this almost makes me want to find out if I am, indeed, of Irish descent. But after 41 years, I will more than likely leave things alone.

That being said, I will not feel the least bit guilty while I’m hoisting a pint of Guinness in a pub somewhere in Manhattan after tomorrow’s parade. I just wanted to get this off my chest, I guess.

Unemployment Nine: What does a kosher Labrador have to do with writing?

Kosher Labrador

In one of my many trips to craigslist today, I found this ad under writing/editing (unedited):

Seeking an individual to provide dog care & household assistance. You will be responsible for the care of two energetic Labradors, basic cleaning, errands, shopping, light kitchen prep, general home help. This is a live in position. You will be required to be in the home during the day. You must love dogs and be comfortable handling them, but not currently own one. Nicely renovated, one-bedroom apartment and monthly salary provided. Experience with a Kosher home a plus. Approximately 5.5 days a week, but flexibility is a must. We are looking to fill this position immediately. References required, background check will be conducted! Please email a short paragraph telling a little about yourself and your resume.

Unlike some of the other masterpieces I’ve posted, there’s nothing wrong with this ad at all, except for one minor detail: What in the hell does it have to do with writing or editing?