Opening Night at Dow Diamond

What up, players.

Today probably signaled the end of 'Winter' (if we can even call it that this year) more than any other freakish, 72-degree day we've had over the last month or two. Not that it was particularly warm out this evening or anything - far from it, it was in the upper-40s and overcast - but nothing really cries 'SPRING' like Opening Day with the Great Lakes Loons at Midland's own Dow Diamond.

As most of you very well know by now, I'm hardly what one could consider a sports enthusiast by any means, but I thoroughly enjoy going to a game at the local arena (or whatever you call the place where baseballers play.) Our group of dads down a few 32 oz beers, we walk around the bump into other locals we know about town, and otherwise enjoy the bread and circus.

(We sat and watched the game for, like, 20 minutes.)

We occasionally watch the game, too.  Once and a great while.

This year we stayed until the end of the 8th inning, and left when it was obvious the Loons had the game in the bag (they ended up winning anyway. . . not that any of us really cared.) Afterwards, we walked downtown and met the wives over at, what I consider, the shittiest drinking hole in town - Three Bridges. I steadfastly refrained from buying a drink during the 20-30 minutes we were there, out of protest (I despise that bar but the wives love it), and probably due to my groaning we went over to Whichcraft and there hung out to close out the night.

So here you go, folks - Opening Day of Spring.  Sort of. 

Some edgy dude carved this above one of the urinals in the men's room. So hardcore.

Some of the guys met up earlier in the evening at Decker's (a nearby bar downtown), but that was about the same time I was getting out of work so I just had Kris drop me off at the arena (or whatever it's called) around 6pm. After meeting up with everyone, we grabbed some beers and made our way to our reserved seats.

Those empty seats there between Morgan and Tom is where we ended up staying for, like, 20 minutes or so.

Some sun would have been cool this evening, but it was in the high-40s/low-50s with little wind, so it was manageable. After sitting for a bit we got up and did a lap around the Diamond.

Morgan, Mitch and Tom

Getting a group selfie for Opening Night (Morgan, Lonnie, Erik, Yours Truly, Tom and Mitch.)

Coming back into the Concourse for another round of beers, we bumped into the legendary Captain of Z93 fame. I managed this pic of him talking to Erik about something-or-other Loons related (he does PR for them and the surveying company Erik works for is doing some work with the organization.) I got to pose for a pic with this dude last year (I grew up listening to him on a daily basis while in high school.)

After a few beers (and very little baseball-watching) we decided to leave and head downtown to meet up with the wives. 

On our way out Erik wanted to stop and check out the Midland County Sports Hall of Fame (which is just as impressive as it sounds. . .)

(Most of these people were local coaches, or else state champions or record-setters - not like pro-ballers or anything.)

When we arrived at super-shitty Three Bridges, it fortunately wasn't as packed the last time we had all been in there (after our St. Patrick's Day outing to Clare), and we were able to find an empty table. The wives were seated at the table behind us, so it kinda defeated the purpose of us even being there. But whatever.

Tom gets another group selfie. The other guys ordered a round here but I wasn't about to give this place one cent of my money - this place sucks.

Tom gets a group pic of the moms doing a round of shots (you can spot Kris there right to the right of Mitch's head.)

Susan, Courtney, Kris, Danielle, and Stephanie.

After one round of drinks there - maybe because I was boycotting it, who knows, but I'd like to think the other guys had come to their senses - we decided to peace out and head down a block or two and hit up my favorite downtown watering hole, Whichcraft.

Passed by the ol' Larkin Building on our walk down (our Masonic lodge meets on the top floor a few times per month.)

Whichcraft. We had sat at a much smaller table at first, as the wives were still finishing up the drinks at the last place, but when one of the larger, bench-styled tables opened up that could accommodate our whole group opened up we moved. For whatever reason, Tom - which you can see in the center, there - refused to move for a bit (he was a bit tipsy at this point.)

A few folks ordered some appetizers and snacks while we polished off a couple, last rounds for the evening.

We ended up staying there for about an hour and a half, before folks decided to call it a night around 11pm or so.

The whole group (sans Yours Truly, who - of course - was the one taking the pic.)

Everyone dispersed towards their respective cars at the end of the night, with the Johnsons and Griffins sticking together because they had parked on the same side street. When they were stepping onto the street, Stephanie tripped off the curb and totally ate shit on the pavement. . . directly in front of a parked cop car (which you can see right behind Lonnie.) Fortunately the guy didn't tail any of their vehicles home. . .

This is what Kris and I came home to. Alayna and the dogs asleep in bed, with Abby passed out on the living room couch with a movie blaring. Gotta love Fridays. . .

- Brian

The Colonel's 25th

Hey kids.

A Black Bean Brownie Cake Mom dropped off in the morning.

Yours Truly turned 25 today. A monumental milestone, really, watered down slightly by the fact it fell on, you know, a weekday this year.  Not a whole heck of a lot you can do on a weekday as far as birthdays are concerned, but I count myself fortunate that I'm one of those lucky assholes that never has to go to work on my birthday.

One of the perks about being a teacher and having a birthday in July. Kinda rules.

Kris asked what I wanted to do on my birthday this year - if I had anything special in mind, if I wanted to go out to dinner, etc. - but I'm low-maintenance anymore, and honestly my 'dream day' is pretty basic: all I wanted to do was head to Radio Wasteland later on in the morning and shop for some vinyl, then spend the afternoon cleaning, resleeving, and cataloging my ever-expanding collection. You know, total nerd shit. 

I've spent far crappier days, I can tell you that much.

A couple days later - when it was the weekend and we didn't have any huge plans in the calendar (for once) - some of my friends took me around downtown Midland on a bar crawl for a belated celebration of my 25 years on this planet. Good times as always.

So here you go, folks - my 25th Birthday in a nutshell.  Enjoy.

My favorite thing to do on any birthday is hit up Midland's local record store, Radio Wasteland (where I'm considered a regular, and am additionally a 'Top Fan' of theirs on Facebook.)

My shelving situation is definitely getting dicey at home - I'm running out of space for additional records, so I don't buy in bulk as much as I used to, and my 'want' list is probably around 15-20 records. Still, I do enjoy the treasure hunting aspect of walking into a record store and stumbling across LPs I didn't realize I wanted. I probably spent 90 minutes in Jim's store today, thoroughly canvassing the entirety of his wares.

Walked out with seven boxed sets of classical music and operas, a 2-LP compilation, double-LPs from Brubeck and Chicago, Pablo Cruise, Loggins and Messina, and - the jewel of my finds today - the second compilation from Fat Wreck Chords, Survival of the Fattest (one of my first punk CDs I ever bought, back in my sophomore year of high school.) All for $44.

An awesome birthday haul, if I do say so myself.

Once I got home, I broke out the ol' Spin Clean machine and set to work cleaning, cataloging, and sleeving my new albums. I had ordered some new inner and outer sleeves in preparation for this undertaking days before, and made sure they were shipped to my house in time for my birthday. Once the new additions were all taken care of, I began resleeving a bunch of my existing albums that needed an upgrade. Took about five or six hours, but it was an awesome five or six hours, I'll tell ya what.

And some jalapeno honey whiskey accompanied the undertaking quite nicely.

A couple days later, me and some of the dads from our Midland friend group headed over to the Larkin Beer Garden to kick off an evening of bar-hopping downtown.

The beer selection on hand was minimal, but decent. Morgan, Mitch and Erik were on hand this evening (Collier was unfortunately out of town this weekend), and while we were at the beer truck we bumped into my old realtor, Rick, who helped us in buying our home back in 2017. Coincidentally, Rick - an avid record collector himself - was wearing a Radio Wasteland t-shirt.

We stayed for a single beer, then decided we'd head somewhere else to mix it up (there weren't a ton of people there, and there was zero shad to speak of since, you know, it's in the middle of an empty parking lot and everything.)

What are you, a cop?

Not gonna lie, this sign is pretty accurate.

Murals are starting to spread throughout the city, which grows more and more hipsterly with every passing year.

Heading downtown towards The Commons, where you're allowed to drink outside downtown (within the marked barricades, obviously.)

After picking up some beers from Molasses - a barbecue joint on the main drag - we set up shop at a table outside me and Erik's Lodge (the third story of the Larkin Building, in the background there.)

There was a quartet of saxophonists doing covers this evening. I forget what they're called, but I like to think their name is Sax on the Beach. That'd be the name of my sax quartet if I had one.

After a couple beers on Main Street, we decided to grab some food at nearby Whichcraft - probably my favorite bar downtown.

This place has the best beer selection in Midland, bar none.

Kicking things off with an imperial sour from Transient (never heard of 'em.)

Snackables.

Once we had eaten some food and had a few drinks at Whichcraft, the guys were really jonesing for some Old Fashioneds, so we headed over to Three Bridges, back on Main St.

This place distills their own liquor, so Erik and I checked out their vats for a hot minute.

Morgan, Mitch, and a weird-looking plant at our table that sorta looked like hops.

This bozo was providing live music to the bar patrons throughout the duration of our stay there. He was not good.

En route to the next stop. . .

Obligatory group pic under these lights.

We stopped off at Decker's for a nightcap (a few pitchers of cheap, domestic beer that went down like water.) When I got there I realized it was filled with my brother Chris' old high school buddies: the dude bartending was his friend, Jess, who used to be the singer in Chris' high school and college bands.

A regular at Decker's is one of Chris' oldest friends (from like elementary school), Sverchek.

Sverchek belts out some classic '90s alternative for the night's karaoke session. . .

Erik picked up the tab at Decker's and, on our way out, noticed how Jess the bartender kept track of our ordering.

Morgan gifted me this for a birthday present - one of my all-time favorite Irish whiskeys. Perfect way to end a stellar birthday - hoping next year pans out just as awesome.

- Brian