Out Here Counting Airplanes

I meant to write this blog a few days ago... but as I keep repeating on here... my life has gotten so busy. I just woke up an hour early, forgetting that marching band is an hour later today so I decided to write. However I should probably take advantage of the extra sleeping time... oh well.

On Saturday night I went to the Mets game at Shea. At first I really wasn't looking foward to going and would have rather been somewhere else. I had plans for that night that I had to give up for that game. When we first got there I was in a terrible mood. We pretty much parked in Guam and crowds of people tend to get in the way and be really annoying. Our seats were in the third tier but they were actually decent seats right behind home plate where you can see everything. Well... you can see everything if you aren't near-sighted =P. Anyway, I ended up having a nice time. Going to a Mets game, or any MLB game, is so much better than seeing the Long Island Ducks. When I saw the Ducks last week I was so bored, but being in Shea Stadium is so much different. It is exhilarating to be part of that massive multitude of people packing the stadium. When everyone cheers its like one big voice made up of thousands. You can feel the excitement, or the anticipation, or the shock, or the disappointment ripple through the crowd.

A few interesting... umm... events took place. First of course there was the green-eyed guy leering at me while he sat to my right. It was harmless but I just wasn't in the mood and found it a bit annoying instead of flattering. Under the circumstances you can't really expect anything else. Then there was the green-eyed guys obnoxious Marlin-fan buddy who would not shut up. To our left were the group of loud white guys who announced that our section "just got a hell of a lot better" when they arrived. Oh! and my personal favorite: the group of spanish guys who arrived already drunk. One of the spanish guys sat next to me dad and kept putting his arm around his shoulders, offering him fries, and talking to him.... oblivious to the fact that he was wasted. At least he was a happy drunk though. The funniest part of the night: The guys who announced that our section got better spilled beer all over himself becoming completely soaked. Shirt, pants, and all. He stands up yelling that he's completely soaked and that it was so embarrasing... and then *BAM* He drops his pants down to his ankles, revealing the eye-burning sight of him in tighty-whities. We'll just say that for a moment... our entire section went into shock and then roared with laughter. You can always see something interesting at a Mets game.

Ever since I was little I would count airplanes when I went to a baseball game at Shea Stadium. This time I counted 21. Then I remembered the lyrics to a song by Train so I thought I'd put them here:

"And there seems to be a price for everything
You get what you pay for then you pay for
What you already thought you bought before

When you're up between the new sky line
The city lights and the warm sunshine
It's a long way down
When you can count on one hand what you love
And can count on who you love to help you
On your long way down

You end up counting airplanes
Trying to keep up with these changes
I don't wanna be with anybody else"