The archived ramblings of my time as a world traveler up to my current life in Washington, D.C.Seattle photos
Space Needle
Our Seattle show - the band was an eight-piece, growing to as many as 10 when they brought up guests from the audience.
Sci-Fi Hall of Fame
EMP guitar sculpture
EMP lobby
Showing posts with label seattle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seattle. Show all posts
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Space Needle
Our Seattle show - the band was an eight-piece, growing to as many as 10 when they brought up guests from the audience.
Sci-Fi Hall of Fame
EMP guitar sculpture
EMP lobby
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Seattle
So after the better part of a week in Vancouver, we headed to Seattle. Seattle might not quite match up to Vancouver for scenery - the mountains and the beaches are both further away - but it's still one of my favorite cities in the country.
It doesn't hurt that every time I've been in Seattle the weather has been at its best (not really a true test of the city, of course). And Priceline gave us a deal on a high-rise downtown hotel, putting us right in the center of the tourist stops.
Of course, the first day you have to hit the Pike Place Market. Then a ferry ride over to West Seattle, where we walked along the ocean-front road, checking out a few shops and enjoying the sun shining over the water. Time nearly ran out on us before we got back across the water for a half-price baseball game in one of the best stadiums I've been to (more on that in another post).
Another day took us to the very oddly designed Experience Music Project at the foot of the Space Needle. The EMP is something of a museum for music (although mostly guitar-heavy rock music, with an emphasis on Jimi Hendrix). The EMP has a especially cool feature on the top floor: a series of booths equipped with guitars, drums, keyboards and the like along with interactive demonstrations of how to play. The guitar station felt a little like a much more realistic version of "Guitar Hero" (this one actually has strings). Kirsten threw down the rhythm guitar part of "Smells Like Teen Spirit."
Guitars played into our evening outing as well - in Seattle, you've got to hit a show, right? At least that's what I learned a decade ago from watching "Singles." The locals said there was one show with local bands that stood above the rest, so we pulled out a bus map and headed North to the Ballard neighborhood and the Tractor Tavern.
Ballard is an area I wouldn't have otherwise ventured out to, but it was a good destination - a strip with coffeeshops, restaurants and clubs, along with the required quota of hipsters. The show was good, the beer was good - what more could you ask for?
Unfortunately, our West Coast swing ended with red-eye flights the next evening, which for me lead directly into a day of work on minimal sleep and then a big July 4 weekend. Jumping back into the East Coast humidity mostly makes me long to head back West.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
kingdome
When I started my posts on baseball stadiums I'd intended to eventually get around to writing about every park I've attended a game in. As so many other things, I keep putting these off. Not sure if they'll be of much interest to anyone else, but I like the excuse to dredge up my memories.
The first game I ever saw was in 1991 at Seattle's Kingdome, in Seattle. The stadium left much to be desired. It was a bleak concrete building with artificial turf on the field and artificial lighting flooding down from the ceiling. But for a 13-year-old baseball fan who had started to fanatically follow the game on TV and had been immersed in books on the history of the game, it was more than good enough.
It would be several more years before I'd have the experience of walking out the tunnel to my seats and seeing the sun gleam off an emerald grass field. But my first game impressions are still shining and glorious in my memory.
If I saw the same game today, the atmosphere would mostly inspire apathy. It was a Wednesday afternoon game (I didn't actually remember the day of the week - certain details have been supplied by the wonders of internet box scores). The official attendance was about 19,000, which seems high. Even then, I knew the crowd was sparse; in my mind I think 12,000 would be a better estimate. We arrived well early and took seats behind third base (I wonder what those seats cost at the time?). I'm not sure if we actually were there for batting practice, but I remember having a lot of time to take in the details: the expanse of seats, the crisp colors of the uniforms, the size of the scoreboard. We picked up souvenir miniature bats. I ended up with a scorecard which I still have. I can go back and look over my attempt at keeping score (I was lost on how to denote a first-inning pinch runner). I don't remember the details of what happened on the field. Before I found the scorecard I knew the game was against the Red Sox, I knew Ken Griffey, Jr. hit a home run and I was pretty sure the Mariners won.
I remember even at the time not having a great grasp on the play-by-play; leaving the stadium, I was a bit disappointed in my brain for not remembering everything exactly, and instead having more general impressions. A few moments, however, were vivid then and still easily accessed. The crowd noise going from indifferent to what (at the time) seemed insanely loud after Griffey's home run. We were right in front of the Red Sox bullpen, and crowded with other kids along the front rail to try and get autographs. I had no idea who Tony Pena was, but I knew that was the name of the Red Sox' backup catcher who was signing autographs, and who stopped just before he worked his way to us.
(I also learned a lesson that day, one my parents probably would prefer hadn't been as long-lasting.
My father parked our minivan in a two-hour spot during the game. When we returned to the vehicle, there was a ticket on the windshield. Us four kids (aged 13-7) who simply understood tickets were bad, were concerned. Our parents deflated our anxiety by remarking, "No one pays parking tickets in a city they're not from." Or at least one you're not going to soon return to. It's a lesson I've adhered to.
My parents got notices of the ticket for many years after. Seattle would send them a notice every year or two a year saying the ticket was delinquent and adding penalties to the total. Until one year the notices just stopped coming. There's no chance of them taking that van back to Seattle, so I'd say they're safe.)
The next day my father, brother and I went back to the Kingdome, this time for a night game against the Tigers. The tickets this time were free, thanks to collecting a quantity of Raisin Bran box tops. The Tigers that year were known for free-swinging power hitters: Cecil Fielder, Rob Deer (I didn't have to look up those two. I did have to look up to find out Mickey Tettleton was also on his way to hitting 31 home runs). I remember we got to the park a bit late; we probably didn't see Fielder hit a first-inning home run. I don't know if we saw Rob Deer hit a second-inning homer.
I do remember watching a late home run win the game for the Mariners. In my mind, it was Harold Reynolds hitting the winning home run in the ninth inning. According to the box score, it was Alvin Davis putting the Mariners ahead in the eighth. Either way, I remember watching the ball from the upper deck, seeing it fly on a low arc along the right-field line and just fair into in the stands. I've seen a lot of home runs since, but few are seared into my memory like that one.
(Looking here, I see the Mariners' average ticket price in 1991 was $7(!). Hot dogs were $1.50; beer $2.50. The Kingdome might not have been great, but at least it wasn't also unaffordable.)
The first game I ever saw was in 1991 at Seattle's Kingdome, in Seattle. The stadium left much to be desired. It was a bleak concrete building with artificial turf on the field and artificial lighting flooding down from the ceiling. But for a 13-year-old baseball fan who had started to fanatically follow the game on TV and had been immersed in books on the history of the game, it was more than good enough.
It would be several more years before I'd have the experience of walking out the tunnel to my seats and seeing the sun gleam off an emerald grass field. But my first game impressions are still shining and glorious in my memory.
If I saw the same game today, the atmosphere would mostly inspire apathy. It was a Wednesday afternoon game (I didn't actually remember the day of the week - certain details have been supplied by the wonders of internet box scores). The official attendance was about 19,000, which seems high. Even then, I knew the crowd was sparse; in my mind I think 12,000 would be a better estimate. We arrived well early and took seats behind third base (I wonder what those seats cost at the time?). I'm not sure if we actually were there for batting practice, but I remember having a lot of time to take in the details: the expanse of seats, the crisp colors of the uniforms, the size of the scoreboard. We picked up souvenir miniature bats. I ended up with a scorecard which I still have. I can go back and look over my attempt at keeping score (I was lost on how to denote a first-inning pinch runner). I don't remember the details of what happened on the field. Before I found the scorecard I knew the game was against the Red Sox, I knew Ken Griffey, Jr. hit a home run and I was pretty sure the Mariners won.
I remember even at the time not having a great grasp on the play-by-play; leaving the stadium, I was a bit disappointed in my brain for not remembering everything exactly, and instead having more general impressions. A few moments, however, were vivid then and still easily accessed. The crowd noise going from indifferent to what (at the time) seemed insanely loud after Griffey's home run. We were right in front of the Red Sox bullpen, and crowded with other kids along the front rail to try and get autographs. I had no idea who Tony Pena was, but I knew that was the name of the Red Sox' backup catcher who was signing autographs, and who stopped just before he worked his way to us.
(I also learned a lesson that day, one my parents probably would prefer hadn't been as long-lasting.
My father parked our minivan in a two-hour spot during the game. When we returned to the vehicle, there was a ticket on the windshield. Us four kids (aged 13-7) who simply understood tickets were bad, were concerned. Our parents deflated our anxiety by remarking, "No one pays parking tickets in a city they're not from." Or at least one you're not going to soon return to. It's a lesson I've adhered to.
My parents got notices of the ticket for many years after. Seattle would send them a notice every year or two a year saying the ticket was delinquent and adding penalties to the total. Until one year the notices just stopped coming. There's no chance of them taking that van back to Seattle, so I'd say they're safe.)
The next day my father, brother and I went back to the Kingdome, this time for a night game against the Tigers. The tickets this time were free, thanks to collecting a quantity of Raisin Bran box tops. The Tigers that year were known for free-swinging power hitters: Cecil Fielder, Rob Deer (I didn't have to look up those two. I did have to look up to find out Mickey Tettleton was also on his way to hitting 31 home runs). I remember we got to the park a bit late; we probably didn't see Fielder hit a first-inning home run. I don't know if we saw Rob Deer hit a second-inning homer.
I do remember watching a late home run win the game for the Mariners. In my mind, it was Harold Reynolds hitting the winning home run in the ninth inning. According to the box score, it was Alvin Davis putting the Mariners ahead in the eighth. Either way, I remember watching the ball from the upper deck, seeing it fly on a low arc along the right-field line and just fair into in the stands. I've seen a lot of home runs since, but few are seared into my memory like that one.
(Looking here, I see the Mariners' average ticket price in 1991 was $7(!). Hot dogs were $1.50; beer $2.50. The Kingdome might not have been great, but at least it wasn't also unaffordable.)
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