I went to the Yankees-Mets game last night with Liz, James, and Jess. One of the doctors Liz works for gave her the tickets, which were excellent seats in the loge area, near the foul pole in right field. We had a few rowdy Yankees fans up there with us, who spent the game getting drunk and heckling Mets fans. It was much more entertaining than the game, an 8-0 rout by the Yankees. One guy sat directly behind us and had plenty of obnoxious chants and barbs for the Mets and their fans. He was particularly fond of shouting "In ... the ... closet!" at Mike Piazza, and "Beat ... the ... traffic!" at all the fans leaving early. Another guy behind us was attending the game with his girlfriend, a Mets fan. By the fourth inning, as her boyfriend joined with the first drunk guy to belittle the Mets, she looked like he wasn't getting any that night. By the seventh inning, I remarked that not only was he probably sleeping alone tonight, he might just get dumped on the way home. At one point, near the end of the game, Joe McEwing was at the plate for the Mets, and a few women several rows in front of us shouted "We love you, Super Joe!" To which the boyfriend responded with a sexual slur that none of us, not even James, connoisseur of profanity, had ever heard before. Even though this is a "family-friendly" blog, I have to print it here. He shouted back at these ladies, "Shut your cockwashers!" There was a ten-year-old boy in front of us; I shudder to think of his poor virgin ears. I guess the girlfriend was used to this behavior, because by the ninth inning she was curled up in his lap, half asleep. Unbelievable. That relationship can never last, though. Around here, a Yankees-Mets coupling is worse than a mixed-religion one. Much worse.

In other news, I've started my massive summer book for 2002: The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky. First, a quick bit of history. I love reading, and there's something wrong if I'm without a book to read for any time longer than a few days. In the summer of 2000, I read what might be my all-time favorite book: Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson. It had everything: sex, violence, math, codebreaking, intrigue, and technology. I started it in mid-June and finished sometime in early August, so when I think of that summer, I think of that book. Last year, among other things, I read Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It was by far my favorite book of the series, though I was able to finish it in just a few weeks. But it was a large, heavy book to carry around, so I was especially motivated to read it quickly. This summer, I've been reading William Gibson novels and Mario Puzo's The Godfather, but I'm ready for something deeper. Liz has always wanted me to read The Brothers K, but I've been reluctant for years. I read Crime and Punishment over five months in 1996 and 1997, and while I enjoyed it, it was a difficult and tedious read. Karamazov is 250 pages longer and much "weightier" than C&P. I only hope that I like it enough that I can get through it in a few months. I always finish reading books that I start, so I'm stuck with it even if I get sick of it. And there's nothing worse than taking six months to read a book you don't like much. After this book, I have Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita and Thomas Mann's Doctor Faustus on my list. So Dostoevsky is something of a warm-up. Of course, I also have plenty of sci-fi novels lined up to give my brain a rest if I get sick of the college reading list.