I changed up my usual routine and I’m starting this at the time I’m usually finishing writing. I had my breakfast and most importantly my coffee. One of the best things about iced coffee is that I don’t have to brew it every day. I just pour it. I pronounce the d in iced coffee. I have since I discovered that it was there. Do you? My therapist says that nobody does but that she’s not surprised that I do. She knows I’m a pedant. Hell, I cringe at anglicized plurals, more than one stadium are stadia and the plural of concerto is concerti.
I performed a double experiment, medical and culinary, at dinner last night. The medical was eating corn on the cob. I had to give it up as it caused intestinal obstructions. I gave it a shot as the hernia surgery might changed that. Before the surgery my intestines were squeezed through holes in my abdomen. They could have been the cause of the problem. The other possibility was scar tissue from the Crohn’s disease. The result? No more corn for me. I don’t have a full obstruction but it’s having trouble making its way through my small intestine. I was able to eat breakfast but now I’m uncomfortable. I feel things moving in me but it’s stop and go traffic.
The culinary experiment involved the corn and was a success. When I ate corn regularly I steamed it. It’s been so long that I forgot how long to stream it for so I googled “steamed corn on the cob.” While doing so I found several recipes for steaming via microwave. It makes a lot of sense. You leave the husk on and nuke it. The husk holds in the moisture so the kernels are encased in steam. I did it for three minutes and it came out perfectly, just as good as using a steamer. Too bad I won’t be taking advantage of this great time and labor saver. You should try it. I will have to enjoy my corn on the cob vicariously through you. That’s sad as it is one of my favorite foods. I’ll be at the New Bedford Folk Festival this weekend and there is always someone there selling the grilled corn on the cob dipped in butter. That’s the best way of preparing it. I must resist.
Sometimes the way the world works fits your expectations. You have to be extra cautious when concluding that, selection bias makes it very easy to avoid fitting the world into your preferred narrative. The facts should influence your opinions, not the other way around. But sometimes I’m right and it always feels good when evidence backs me up.
I’m a member of several baseball groups on Facebook. There is a vocal element in them that rejects all modern analysis and new strategies that are influenced by them. People will say things in direct contradiction of the facts and when it’s pointed out to them don’t back down. If you mention WAR (Wins Above Replacement) which has become the dominant way of judging players because it works, these people want to go to war. Their feelings about WAR, the use of relief pitchers, and batting power hitters second, are akin to how the Christian right feels about same-sex marriage. That it’s somehow against the natural order of things.
That observation made me hypothesize that their politics would reflect that mind set. As they resent all changes from when they were young they would be conservatives and Trump supporters. Talking to Kevin, who is in one of the groups with me, I discovered that he felt the same way. As I’m a pedant and empiricist I decided to test the hypothesis. I looked at the profiles of the baseball reactionaries. Every single one that tipped off their political leanings was a conservative and or Trump supporter. One defended Trump in general but was upset that he raised the national debt. He is part of that crowd. One made no political statements so I can’t judge.
In many ways I’m a baseball conservative. I agree with Crash Davis that there should be a constitutional amendment against the DH and artificial turf. I used to resist the increased use of relief pitchers until I saw the data. Pitchers really do dramatically worse the third time through the order. Pitchers throwing at full intensity for one inning are more effective than ones that have to pace themselves. I wasn’t going to deny the facts; I changed my mind. That’s the difference between me and them.
It makes so much sense that it would be this way. They live in the glow of nostalgia for a past they see as idyllic. The good of one’s youth lives after it; the evil is oft forgotten in middle age.
Now I will be good and walk to Motor Vehicles to renew my driver’s license. Perhaps the walking will make my intestines run better. My intestines just told me that’s a bad idea. I’ll put that off till tomorrow. I hope I’m OK by tonight. For the first time since I’ve lived within walking distance of Yankee stadium, I’m going to a Yankee game. Of course it’s against the Mets and at Citi Field. I hope I’m good luck for the boys by the bay.
Wise Madness 