As I peruse the weekly e-mail, I continue to be astonished by this little global village we've created. I can post electronically generated moldy bread, meatballs, sponge cake, or cabbage on a Friday, and receive input from the UK, Germany, Spain, and Iowa (the official Rand-McNally "four corners of the Earth") by Saturday night. I firmly believe the distribution and global discussion of food-based presets was a major dream of the military and university minds who created the World Wide Web. "What if, someday, we could cause the mass streaming of electronic impulses so that a scientist in London linked to a researcher at Harvard could instantaneously receive volumes of data and the ability to make letters look like bratwurst?" - Albert Einstein, Paris Herald-Review, 1947.
My point today, however, is that many of the phenomena I discuss here in my Midwestern Bladesmithing shop have a distinctly U.S. flavor. Baseball, for example, is well-known and enjoyed from Japan to the Caribbean, but the nuances of Chicago or Boston baseball may be unfamiliar to many across the planet. Please permit me to explain a few finer points of the game as we play it:
1. The basic objective of the game is to evenly distribute a combination of nachos, beef franks, Coke, hot pretzels, and beer over nine innings of a game that is played during the roughly 2- to 3-hour feeding. The specific composition of this series of foodstuffs varies depending on ballpark and locale. The U.S. Baseball Commission in the late '80s permitted the use of pizza in this rotation, but ruled that no direct sources of fiber or fresh fruit or vegetables (other than sauerkraut, onions, or relish) may be consumed during the course of play.
2. No commodity purveyed at the ballpark concession stand shall be priced at less than 300 percent of supermarket retail price. The rule of thumb for purchasing a family's chow at the park is the same as that promoted by the jewelry industry for the purchase of a wedding ring: One month's salary.
3. There are two basic styles of negotiating food-related passage past a full row of overweight sports lovers during the inning break: a.) Timid movement, body compressed, eyes forward, murmuring "Sorry, excuse me, thank you..." b.) An offensive rush, crushing kneecaps, grunting, and marinating the feet of the multitudes with their own beer.
4. Have all food and drink decisions and cash in hand a full five patrons back in the concessions line. Failure to promptly execute the brew-and-dog transaction can result in a withering look from the cashier and a sigh of disgust from the obese guy in the golf shirt and Cubs cap behind you.
5. All expended nacho trays, hot dog wrappers, and unwanted commemorative soda cups must be stowed under your seat or that of your spouse or children for the duration of the game. Peanut shells may be discarded within a six-foot radius of your position.
6. During regulation play, all patrons are exempted from conventional nutritional requirements, recommended food intake levels, blood alcohol concerns, and spousal ostracization. Baseball is the national pastime, and piling guilt on an avid fan is tantamount to spitting on Mom (for reasons other than piling on food-related guilt).
Okay, that's the game. Play ball and don't step on my toes as you're downloading my baseball presets:
Oh, take me out to your hard drive! Download ballpark.zip. NOTE: Because of the unusual nature of the main .bmps used to create Brewski and Nachips, you may need to shift the slider under the top .bmp to adjust the depth of the suds or cheese. Thanks, ball fans, and have a safe drive home.