HellaMike.com!

So I got to thinking the other day that I want a new URL for my blog. HellaMike.com/dangerblog just isn’t easy to remember. Ali has TiaraClink.com which is pretty easy to tell people and for them to remember.

I’ve tried a bunch of variations, DangerBlog.com is a porn-ish site, DangerPants.com is taken, but they have that pretty cool picture to the left. Those pants are pretty dangerous, so I’m not totally upset about this.

Ali and I spent a good hour trying various URLs that were either taken, dumb, or both.

I need suggestions, people. If you like, you can check http://www.regfly.com to see if something is available. I’d like to stick with a .com ending. If someone suggests something that I like, and it’s available, I will register it today.

Remember when I said that my real life was killing my digital life? (Ali totally stole this topic for her last blog: My crazy life is fucking with my blogging.)

It still is.

I’m still Twittering like nobody’s business (GET ON TWITTER IF YOU AREN’T ALREADY!) My screen name is @Hella, join and follow me and you will be rewarded with tons of posts by me. Yes, that is a threat.

I just can’t get enough of Twitter. I have Twhirl open and it goes off whenever I have a new tweet. If I am not at home, I am reloading TwitterBerry on my BlackBerry every 4 minutes. I had to start following more people to get more updates. I may need help.

When was the last time I did a video? Oh. Christmas. Probably won’t be another one until June or so when we go to Jersey. And I’m not blogging as much as I would like to either. This blog about not blogging is so meta.

The craziness that has been going on is painting our apartment. Thankfully it’s over and done with. Check here and here on Ali’s blog for pictures. Speaking of Ali’s blog, she made me do another theme for her. Luckily this didn’t need much work. Check it out at http://www.tiaraclink.com (but you all knew that anyway.)

This weekend we are finishing the office. I should have an office chair to add to my new desk. It’ll be nice to use a computer at home at a desk. Up until now my desk has been our chaise lounge and I usually have a messy desk, much to the dismay of Ali.

Work is… Work. Busy, aggravating, same ol’ same ol’. I have two Planet gigs coming up, and those are always fun to do. I can’t wait for that.

This weekend we may be going to see Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band performed by the Fab 40:

Beatle enthusiasts David Blassingame and Steve Candelari hand-picked 40 Houston musicians to pay tribute to the Fab 4 with a live performance of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, something the Beatles never actually did.

From what I gather, it’s orchestral, so it’ll be pretty damn cool.

That’s all I got now. I promise I will try and blog and do more vidoes.

zmg I totally swear to blog. *shoots self*

Field of Dreams. One of my favorite movies ever. I don’t know when I first saw it, I was probably in middle school. But ever since I first saw it, I was hooked.

This time of year, with spring training just behind us and currently being in the first few weeks of the season is a great time for baseball movies on television, Field of Dreams is the only movie I will stop on every time. Ali also knows this. I’ll let her click past just about any other movie that I love, except this one.

Flipping through the channels tonight, I find Field of Dreams. I have to watch it. I love everything about this movie. The story, the execution, the score, everything.

When I watch it, I catch myself smiling as new pieces of the puzzle are reveled to Ray. How he convinces Terrance Mann to come with him (“I’m not showing you my gun!”), when he finds Moonlight Graham walking out late at night and he tells Ray his dream, when he realizes he did this all for his father, his penance.

The last part gets me every time. “Hey Dad… Want to have a catch?” It makes me cry each time I watch it. I don’t even need to hear the line anymore. Once Ray starts talking to his father I get chocked up and the tears start. I’m a sucker for a story about a father and son, and this movie takes the cake. A son, his father, and baseball. What more could there possibly be to create a more magical story?

I don’t know if this movie would have the same impact on me if my father and I didn’t have the type of relationship that we do. We’re very close. We both love baseball and the Yankees, and we bust each other’s chops at any chance we can get. If that bond wasn’t there, and we didn’t share a love of the sport, I don’t know how I would feel about this film. I don’t even want to think about that.

One of the top things on my must do in life list, is get to that field in Iowa. I really wanted to go two years ago during the Netflix Road Show. They showed the movie on a giant screen on the actual field. That would have been amazing, but it was not possible. One day though, I will go to that field.

This morning I got up at the usual ungodly hour (anything before at least 9:30 on a weekend is ungodly) and I listened to a few podcasts, namely You Look Nice Today. A podcast by @hotdogsladies, @lonelysandwich, and @scottsimpson, some of my favorite Twitters.

After the podcasts, I popped on the TV to see if there were any good movies on, or at the very least something halfway decent that I could ignore and play poker. I came across “When It Was A Game” and it’s sequels on HBO. “When It Was A Game” is a documentary series about the heyday of baseball, and it tells the story of baseball and it’s impact on America from the depression and onwards. Watching it, I was really amazed at how much the game of baseball has changed.

It really did used to be a game. It still is, but not nearly on the same level. It’s more business now, and that’s a little sad.

Watching the documentary, I saw kids who were awestricken watching their heroes play ball, dying to get an autograph, or just to get a nod or a wave from the gods on the diamond. Does that happen today? Possibly. No where near the way it was 40 or 50 years ago. I used to go to a bunch of Yankee games a year, at least 15 to 20 and there were kids there, but it was mostly people my age and up. I see the same thing on TV. I remember watching the Yankees on TV with my Dad, him explaining to me what was going on, what the rules were, who the players were. I remember my first trip to Yankee Stadium, or the first trip that I remember that is. I was 8 years old, and I was in heaven. I had my Yankee t-shirt on, my baseball glove in hopes I would catch a foul ball. I will blog about this experience at a later time, hopefully this summer when I make my last trip to Yankee Stadium before it closes its doors at the end of this season.

Growing up, Don Mattingly was the end all be all for me. Donnie Baseball. I had the shirt, the poster, the bat. I wore number 23 in little league a time or two. My friends and I used to play whiffle ball all the time. They were from Boston and were huge Boston Red Sox fans. When we played ball at their house, it was Fenway Park. My house was the grand cathedral Yankee Stadium. Do kids even do that anymore? I have no idea.

My glove is my father’s old glove. It’s broken in perfectly. I don’t really have anyone to play catch with, but I like to throw a ball to myself as a break in between working. It relaxes me and gives me a moment to think. Same thing with my baseball bat. It’s never seen contact with a ball, and it may never, but I just like to hold it in my hands.

But back to the documentary. The games were smaller back then, but so much bigger than today. Everything hung on whether your team won or lost. And not just championships, but every single game. The players were gods, but they were also human and tremendously approachable. The doc said that the reason that is, is because players are paid so much that they lost familiarity with the working man.

Most ball players had winter jobs back in the glory days. They rode the subways and buses into the stadium with the fans. There are stories that Jackie Robinson used to stop and play stickball with kids in Brooklyn after playing a game with the Dodgers.

Today, the league minimum salary is $390,000 a year. If you are a major leaguer, you are making at least that. That’s a huge difference to what some of the all time greats of yesterday made. It’s fifty times more (and up) than some of the salaries that the documentary mentioned.

I love baseball movies. “Field of Dreams” is one of my all time favorite movies. “The Sandlot” is one of my favorite baseball movies. “The Sandlot” captures that feeling that kids used to have towards baseball.

From “Field of Dreams:”

The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. Its been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But, baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good, and could be again.

I hope that baseball does return to glory, past this era of steroids and gets back to being what it is. A game. A game where if you team wins, you are walking on clouds, and if by some chance they lose, you kick the dirt but keep your hopes up for tomorrow’s game.

I pretty much stopped using MySpace. I log in maybe once a day to check for any updates, which usually there are none. Ali has followed me in my move to blogging off MySpace, and some of our friends have too.

Few things, Tom.

1. Stop telling me I have new blog posts from friends. I don’t. I still check each time though, but really, fix that.

2. You are not my friend, and I don’t care about your blogs. Do not put them in my “subscription area” or whatever. Thank you.

See Tom, I don’t need you. I have my own site and blog, and Twitter. I need nothing else. But some of my friends still need you. So when I in next time, I’d like these little issues fixed please.