I was driving along Interstate 295 today, when I came across one of those portable digital display signs that warns you about things up ahead–you know, one of those signs made of lightbulbs that can change its message every few seconds.  This one started with this:

 DAYLIGHT
SAVINGS TIME
HAS ENDED

Fair enough.  However, it then changed to:

PLEASE
DRIVE
CAREFUL

Okay, leaving aside the use of the adjective where there should be an adverb, I found this message rather … odd.  So odd, in fact, that I slowed down to watch the message flash by again–I was not sure I had seen it correctly the first time.  As it turned out, I had.

This raises all kinds of questions.  Do people really drive around at 4:30 as it’s getting dark and fail to turn on their headlights because they forgot the clocks were set back?  That does appear to be the implication:  our driving is based not on weather or traffic conditions or how dark it is but what time we think it is.  Being reminded that the clocks were set back, therefore, will cause us to change our driving behavior.  Is that it?

And is this really why this sign was towed to this location?  I’ve driven by that spot quite a bit, and there has not been a portable light sign there before.  It seems the state highway commissioner or the department of transportation or the state police or whoever is in charge of these signs decided it was very important to remind people to drive like it was an hour later–whatever that means–so important in fact that it was worth programming one of these signs and towing it to that spot on the Interstate.

Naturally, these people must be right, and I’m simply overlooking some obvious point of safety.  Accordingly, I implore anyone reading this to remember that we moved our clocks last weekend and that you all, therefore, should drive careful.

The Boston Red Sox’s World Series victory last night was very different from the win four years ago. In 2004, they were the Wild Card team, the underdog. They had managed to get into the World Series only after coming back from a 3-0 deficit against that team from New York that shall not be named. And the National League’s representative in 2004–the St. Louis Cardinals–was a very good team. Somehow, it was hard to believe it actually could happen. They had not done this in 86 years. They could not possibly be doing it now.

Not until that final out, not until Keith Foulke jogged the ball half way to first base and threw his excessively cautious underhand toss–and not until Doug Mientkiewicz actually caught it for out number three of game number four in the bottom of inning number nine–did you really believe they were going to win. Until that moment, something could go wrong. It had gone wrong in the past–very, very wrong. There was, after all, The Curse, which still could show up to stop the Red Sox when they needed only a simple out. It had happened before. Why should this year be any different?

The win in 2004 was magical, something many Red Sox fans had waited full lifetimes to witness. Headlines all over New England had a single, emphatically printed word: Finally!

This year, we knew the Red Sox were going to win the World Series even before the last game started. The Curse was dead, and nothing was going to stop this team. They simply were the better team by far, and it was just a matter of time. Certainly, the Rockies could win a game or two, but not four. Not against these Red Sox.

The 2007 Red Sox were the best team in baseball all year. Yes, they had intervals of mediocrity, and there were other teams that played amazing ball in the final weeks, including the Colorado Rockies. But the Red Sox’s 96 wins at the end of the regular season was tied only by Cleveland (the true runner up this year). They won their division for the first time in a great while, then earned the American League pennant by taking three straight against the Indians after trailing in the series 3-1. When it came time to play the World Series, they were expected to win. And when they did win, it was great. We stood there in the living room beaming at the TV as the players jumped all over each other. But if it was not magical like in 2004, that’s okay. That team had defied History to win the title. This team simply was the best.

And now, of course, we expect them to win every year. But all I want at the moment is to get some sleep.

Although I do plan to prioritize writing to a level that allows me to do it daily, my day job and late-night baseball have kept me extremely busy recently.  (Pretty exciting about them Red Sox, eh?)

However, I would like to mention one thing I found humorous. A while back I wrote a middling review of a blog traffic-building product called Blogrush, commenting that the president of that company had written some pretty odd, very lengthy, rambling emails to his product users. My conclusion was that the jury was still out on the product.

Well, guess what. They kicked me out of their network. They did not cite my review as a reason, of course, but I suppose they didn’t have to–we’re grown-ups here; we both knew why they were doing it.

Road construction is on-going, by the way. The road in front of our house has been flattened dirt for a couple of weeks now, as the major work has moved to the other end of the street. Our driveway has been inaccessible since they started. Also, although the plan is for the road to get no wider and, if anything, narrower in places, they’ve removed quite a bit of yard from the front of our house. The plan is for about two more weeks of this, and then we’ll be done.

Road construction outside our house started in earnest today, and they did not mess around. The backhoe had not been there fifteen minutes before half the road in front of our house was rubble. It took them longer to get it off the truck than it did to destroy a large portion of road that had laid there for more than 50 years.

By the time I returned home from work this evening, it was too dark to photograph, but it appeared the blacktop was entirely gone. I parked around the corner and walked to the driveway, not noticing that that the first five feet of our drive way also had been removed. Nearly fell on my face.

Next step is to lower the street in front of our house by 11 inches. Once they do that, I think I’ll stop trying to get up the driveway in the dark.

There are games–losses, even–that you recall later with your head or your heart.  And then there are the games you remember with your stomach.  The Red Sox’s loss last night to the Cleveland Indians in game two of the American League Championship Series was one of those games.  It’s not that they lost, but how they lost.

The Red Sox had the lead twice, but their pitching was not able to hang onto it.  They also had their chances to win.  Kevin Youkilis fouled off 9 pitches before lining out to center field in the bottom of the ninth with the speedy Jacoby Ellsbury standing on second, waiting to score the winning run on a single.  In the bottom of the 10th, the Red Sox’s three best batters faced Cleveland’s worst reliever and went down in 15 pitches.

When Eric Gagne entered the game to pitch for Boston in the top of the 11th, I knew the Red Sox would not win.  I could feel it.  Gagne (to whom I maturely have started referring as Gag-me) once was a great closer but has been nothing short of disastrous for Boston.  Once again, he could not keep runners off the bases, and the first two runs of the 11th indeed were charged to Gagne, who picked up the loss.  Javier Lopez, however, gave up three runs, and Jon Lester surrendered two more.  By the time Gutierrez hit his three-run blast to put the Indians up by 7, I had retreated to a part of the house from which I still could hear the game but no longer could see it.

The series is tied 1-1 as it heads to Cleveland.  But if they want to move on, the Red Sox will have to get over a very tough loss pretty quickly.  And, with the entire bullpen spent from last night’s game, Daisuke Matsuzaka will need to show he is worth the $103 million the Red Sox paid for him when he takes the mound Monday.

At least it wasn’t the Yankees.

A simple snowflake
        appeared before my eyes.
I watched
        as it fell
        gently
        toward the Earth.

“How clean,”
        I thought.
“How pure.”
This little snowflake warmed my heart,
        and as I witnessed its delicate descent,
I smiled unconsciously.

When suddenly
        my heart felt a chill
        colder than the shredding winter wind.
“It’s like no other flake!”
        I screamed within my mind.
“It is entirely unique in its beauty,
        and there shall never again be one like it!
It is Nature’s Artwork,
        and it must be saved!”

I watched
        as the snowflake
        plunged faster and faster toward the ground,
        seemingly unaware of its pernicious fate.
To preserve this snowflake
        became my instant obsession.

Without thinking,
        I lunged for the precious,
        suicidal gem,
        reaching out with my gloved hand.
Inches above the cold Earth,
        I grasped the snowflake,
        closing it securely
        within my protective palm.

Slowly I opened my hand,
        revealing only a pathetic spot
        of moisture.

– Tim Brooks

The road in front of our house is being entirely rebuilt.  It’s only one block long, but it’s not a small task.  First, there’s a bend in the middle of the road.  Second, they need to repitch the road so that the center of the road (the center being the spot between the two ends) is higher and the ends are lower.  We live at one end of the road, so the road in front of our house is dropping by 11 inches.  In order to accommodate this, the city actually has to provide us with a new, more steeply sloped driveway.

I’ve put some “before” photos below.  You can click on them to see a larger image.

In order to preserve the character of the street, no sidewalks are going in.  To do so would require taking down fences, many trees, and at least one stone wall.  However, we are getting curbs and drainage and a small number of trees apparently will be coming down.

We’re told construction will take roughly six weeks, which would have them cutting the ribbon some time around Thanksgiving.  Our driveway is likely to be dirt for four weeks, and we’ll have a day or so that we cannot use it.  We’re just looking forward to no longer having a large lake at the bottom of our driveway after each rainfall.

I’ll provide scintillating updates as we go along.

Web site designers work hard on the graphical designs and user interfaces they produce for their clients. In turn, clients pay those designers good money for their work. Accordingly, it is problematic to everyone when a company discovers that its Web design has been copied and used for someone else’s Web site.

Compare these two sites. The first is a page from my client, Soyatech, a publishing, research, and consulting firm devoted to sustainable development in the soybean, oilseed, agribusiness, food, and biofuels industries.

Now compare this page, from Commodity Life.net, an organization that produces a Palm Oil directory.

See anything that looks familiar? Let’s take a closer look at one section.

In short, the creators of CommodityLife.net have stolen the design of the Soyatech site, violating United States (and possibly International, although I don’t know) copyright laws. The carefully cut graphics, the choice of fonts and colors, the stylesheets that took many hours to create, and every other aspect of the site’s design and layout have simply been copied.

The domain name commoditylife.net is registered to someone named Joseph Kuruvilla, whose company is listed as Sunrise Business Solutions in India. The organization itself appears to be from Malaysia (making legal action very difficult), and I have no reason to know whether Mr. Kuruvilla is aware of the design theft. My suspicion, however, is that RegNow (a division of Digital River) and Google are not aware that their companies’ names appear on a pirated site.

Imitation, of course, is reputed to be the sincerest form of flattery. Nevertheless, blatant site design piracy is stealing. For more information on copyright laws, look here.

When 17-year-old Danny Vinik arrived at the Red Sox play-off game Friday night, I doubt he was expecting that within a few hours every member of Red Sox Nation would know his name. Comparing Danny Vinik with Steve Bartman, however, is a contrast between the words famous and infamous.

In case you don’t recall, Steve Bartman was the Chicago Cubs fan who reached for a foul ball in game 6 of the 2003 National League Championship Series and succeeded only in knocking the ball away from Cubs outfielder Moises Alou, with Chicago just five outs away from the World Series. It is highly likely that Alou would have caught the ball for the second out of the inning had Bartman not interfered. Instead, the Florida Marlins went on to score 8 runs that inning, and the Cubs could not recover emotionally in Game 7. Although Steve Bartman–a life-time Cubs fan–did not cause Alex Gonzales’s highly costly error a few moments later on a ground ball that should have resulted in an inning-ending double-play, and Bartman himself did not permit 8 runs to score that inning, and Bartman certainly did not cause the Cubs to fall apart in Game 7 the next night, and never mind the fact that many other fans around him also were reaching for that foul ball, his interference did play into the outcome of the game.

The foul ball off Manny Ramirez’s bat that Danny Vinik caught on Friday night also prevented a second out. Anaheim catcher Jeff Mathis not only would have had the ball, but the images and replay suggest that Vinik practically took the ball out of Mathis glove. Ramirez ended up walking to load the bases, and the Red Sox tied the game moments later on Mike Lowell’s sacrifice fly–a hit that would have been the third out but for Vinik.

Bartman was given a police escort from Wrigley field that night in 2003, with boos, threats, drink cups, and food items showering down on him from his fellow Cub fans. Vinik, by contrast, was congratulated by all the fans around him, including Stephen King, who sat two rows behind him, and has received a tremendous amount of positive attention from the press. Bartman left the game broken-hearted. Vinik will get a heart-swelling thrill each time he looks at that baseball, which I’m sure he will keep forever.

Although Mathis was visibly angry after Vinik caught the ball just over his waiting glove, he knew there was not much he could say about it. The rule is pretty simple: if a fan reaches into the field of play and catches or touches the ball, it is fan interference; if the ball goes into the stands, however, the fans have as much right to the ball as the players.

Compare either of these plays to the catch made by Jeff Maier that helped the New York Yankees beat the Baltimore Orioles in the 1996 American League Championship Series. Maier actually reached into the field of play and caught a ball that was incorrectly ruled a home run. In that case, fan interference should have been called.

It would appear, however, the rule on fan interference is not universally accepted. A relative of mine (who happens to be a hopeless Cub fan) called the Vinik play an “immense shame” and a “travesty,” adding: “If the Boston fans are exulting, they should be ashamed of themselves. It’s consistent with our ‘win at any cost’ philosophy as a society.”

Frankly, I doubt even the Angels would agree with this. Their catcher Mathis called it a “good play.” “Those guys,” he said, “they’re good fans, and they’re always paying attention.” And Angels manager Mike Scioscia said, “when you’re reaching in there, all bets are off.”

Win at any cost? A bit of an overstatement, methinks. It’s not like the Red Sox unleashed a billion bugs, as the Cleveland Indians apparently did to thwart the New York Yankees.

It’s impossible to know what would have happened had Vinik not caught that ball. Lowell may have swung the bat differently had there been two outs, and anything could have happened over the next four innings. But it’s clear that Vinik did cause that moment of the game to change. Still, in 2003, we did not complain about the rules–we blamed Bartman for not thinking. And I must say, this Red Sox fan is certainly not ashamed of himself for being thrilled with Vinik’s catch. The fans are part of the game–any player will tell you that.

In four years, I’ll buy Vinik a drink.

As we both drifted
        aimlessly through life,
Our lives drifted
        together,
        touching,
For a short while.

We drifted on.
And without strategy or reason,
        the currents carried us
        in different directions.

Still,
        on occasion,
        we come together.
To remember yesterday.
To cherish today.
To sing of friendship.

You were my friend then,
        as you are my friend now.
Our lives have drifted
        apart.
But, oh,
        how I look forward
        to seeing you again.

– Tim Brooks