Thursday, November 18, 2004

Mob Town and the Riot Act

In yesteryear, Baltimore had a reputation for a populace given to riots. Major riots ocurred in 1812 and again in 1871. In fact some of the first blood shed in the War of Northern Agression was spilled in Baltimore on April 19, 1861. In the 1970s, admissions to mental wards in Maryland even grew as a result of the 1968 riots.

Alas, this heritage appears to have gone to the wayside, with other cities overtaking us in this area. We did not riot even when the Ravens won the Superbowl. The closest were some fracases in College Park after the Terps one the NCAA basketball championship.

I bring this up only because I came across an interesting post on the "Riot Act." Yes, there was a Riot Act in England, and a superb police officer in the UK reminds us that his professional ambition is to read the "Riot Act" some Saturday night.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

My Inner Viking

Sunday night was my annual trip to the stadium to see the Ravens kick some. I get to a game or two a year, usually when the weather gets cold, or it's a late night game. Tickets magically appear.

I love going to the game! To me, it brings out the Innner Viking. Usually, some buds will get together beforehand to tailgate or hit a bar or two. We put on the team colors, our hats, and drink as much beer as possible before entering the stadium. The crowds grow as you approach, the energy builds, the chants begin. Funnelling toward the gates, we stop at the Johnny U statue to rub his foot for good luck. All we need now are axes, a long boat, and good wind, and we will be pillaging the villages tonight.

Inside, we move through the crowd of our gathered tribesmen, on the lookout for anyone foolish enough to wear a Browns jersey. When we see the enemy, we coil for the attack ...
And say, "good luck. Enjoy the game. "

Later, as the Ravens (lack of) offense bogs down, we scan the crowds looking for the fights. Almost every game, some jackass is hauled out by the "powe leece" for... I can actually never tell what for.

And then you wait for the Ravens to pull off some amazing defensive play, run back a kick for the TD, or see the opposing team punt for seven yards out of the endzone. And we win with our highschool quarterback.

Ah, it's good to Sven "the tall" in Baltimore.

Oh how tiresome the Sun...

Every morning, I shuffle out to the front walk to pick up my bird cage paper, the Baltimore Sun. Each day, even though I have signed up for "home delivery," the "papermen" dump the yellow bagged rag down the steps, under the shrubs, over the wall. But that's not nearly as irritating as the crap in the paper itself.

Like last Saturday, I read the following in a letter to the editor:

"If you are a Democrat, you have been fully disenfranchised from the national scene. The Bushites have absolutely no reason to even pretend to tolerate our opinions anymore. Republicans have proved they have a core group that will support a ruined economy, a dim future for our children, a botched war effort, dirtier air and water, corporate corruption and government secrecy, all in the name of their Christian values."

Speaking as a registered Republican voter in Baltimore City, I can say Amen Brother! I feel your pain. I have been disenfranchised on the local scene in Baltimore for ever. But you know, people actually tolerate my opinion, my kids have a bright future, and the rats are still running free and large. The Mayor still talks happy, plays in his band. I can register my car; nobody has come to take me away in the night.

And you will survive too. I have not seen any tanks in the neighborhood yet. The death squads are not coming. Your freedom to write such drivel to the Sun will remain unhindered.

Now if I can just get the papermen to get the Sun up onto my porch, then things will be good.