Take me out to the ballgame...

One of my favorite activities of spring is going to ballgames.

Don't really care whose game or where it is.

Growing up, we used to traipse to my dad's softball games. As a little kid, going to the playground was the best part. Nothing like 574 turns on a rickety old merry-go-round to make you lose your concession stand dinner.

As I got older, I remember trolling the ballfields with my cousin Jennifer, looking for hot men. We learned quickly that rec ballfields are not the place to look for hot men... well, at least not hot men we could take home to meet Ken and Jimmy (our dads).

I've always had a fascination with baseball players, I guess. My first major teenage crush (sigh) was a guy named Matt. He was a pitcher, and he was H.O.T.

Too bad he was so H.O.T. that he was seeing, like, 6 other girls that summer.

Once I got to college, I didn't date any baseball players at Clemson -- although I did have a one-time disastrous formal date with a rookie second baseman who fell asleep on my couch and refused to leave.

In addition to being a squatter, he was also a mouth breather. Had to let him go.

Instead of dating sketchy ball players, I spent my spring afternoons stretched out on the metal bleachers at Tiger Field next to Toad, my all-time favorite date, watching ballgames, eating ice cream, and getting sunburned.

I did, however, meet an extremely H.O.T. guy post-college (well, my senior year), and as it turns out, he played baseball in college.

When we started dating, he was playing in a rec softball league. I was excited to find, upon attending my first game, that he was pretty good AND that he looked really good in his uniform. (Always a plus!)

Turns out, I wasn't the only one that noticed. A 40+ year-old woman (one of his co-workers) also had the hots for him and was ready to duke it out with me in the parking lot if I didn't give up my seat on the bleachers.

Fortunately for me, her friends (also his co-workers) were able to convince her that she wasn't really his girlfriend (since he'd not even shown the slightest interest in her), and I didn't have to show her my fabulous ninja skills.

After sitting on the bleachers for a season of games, rooting him on, he finally asked me to marry him.

I, of course, said yes.

It's not every day a man who looks that good in baseball pants proposes... :-)

Anyway, K. has continued to play ball here and there, and now Ethan is following in his steps with t-ball. Granted, E resembles my dad (a little short and squatty) more than my hubby, but still, he's pretty good on the field.

Spring for us now includes rec softball for K. and t-ball for E.

We spend a lot of family time at the ball field. From the above pictures, you can tell that a lot of our friends and their families spend quality time at the ball fields, too.

The top picture is of Laney and Reece. Don't mind that scary belly in teal behind them. That's just me and Swimmer.

In Picture #2, Laney and Reece are partaking of one of the variety of snacks in my ballfield cooler. Reece, being a good boy, only had two suckers (unbeknownst to his mother... Sorry, Jenn.). Laney had 4. You'll be seeing her as a candidate for what not to eat on the pedia-dentist's waiting room wall.

The bottom pictures shows the brood of Townville kids; E is the 1/2 kid in a navy shirt on the right side of the picture.

Now, this is what's fun. All of those kids in that bottom picture are on (or related to) someone on E's tball team, and I grew up with all of their parents. I know it probably sounds a little like in-breeding, but it's not... It's just a part of living in a small town.

Now, I'm not saying we aren't a little 'neck.... we yell at the referees -- even in church league, they have to be fair!... we bring our own lawn chairs... our kids eat from the concession stand and/or our never-ending bags o' stuff... but these are the things I loved, loved, loved when I was a kid, and I'm so grateful that my kids have an opportunity to grow up with that same small town atmosphere.

There's nothing like a good ballgame (with a pit stop at Dairy Queen afterward) to announce the arrival of spring...

American Idol

I've never really understood the whole fascination with reality TV.

Now, I did love the first season of MTV's "Real World" back in the day... I wanted to be Julie, the Southern belle dancer who went to New York looking for a dance career but sort of found Eric Nies (hot guy turned MTV veejay). I wanted to be a dancer, and I would have been ecstatic to find someone as hot as Eric Nies when I was in college.

The whole idea of reality TV had just taken off and I thought I might be a good candidate because -- for whatever reason -- the whole "girl from the South" thing seemed to fascinate Hollywood, but like many risque things I've considered, I stopped short of auditioning for the show out of fear of what my dad would say or do.

Those of you who know my dad know that I am not kidding. He wouldn't think twice of showing up on the set and dragging me off into the sunset, spouting off words of wisdom like, "This is assanine, Amy!" No one would dare challenge him because he turns all red and looks a little scary when he gets miffed -- like a poisonous frog ready to shoot venom at anyone who gets in his path.

Anyway, I met K, my hot hunk-o-husband, and I didn't need Eric Nies anymore.... and I stopped dancing, so I didn't want to move to New York anymore (although I am considering auditioning for "So You Think You Can Dance" as incentive for losing the baby weight...).

I really just lost interest in reality TV after that... "Survivor" didn't strike a chord, nor did "The Bachelor." K and I did get kind of hooked into "Joe Millionaire," but we totally blame that on the fact that I was pregnant (with Ethan), sick at night, and didn't want to do much other than lay on the couch.

HOWEVER....

I am sort of an Idol junkie.

Not to the point of checking the website or voting or anything like that (yet)... but I am a faithful watcher, and this year -- for the first time -- I started getting a little antsy waiting for the next season.

It all started in the spring of 2005. K was living/working in A-town with my parents while Ethan and I finished up the school year in Knox-Vegas before making the big move that summer. My friend Amy N. and I started ordering Italian delivery from this little place in West Knoxville and watching the scary audition shows. It was all fun and games (and good food) until I saw one of my kids on there!

I don't know why, but I got so excited -- and I was hooked.

A lot of people say they hate watching those first shows, but really, it's kind of like my train wreck. I'm don't break my neck to look at wrecks and whatnot, but I will camp out on the couch to laugh at the freaks who audition for Idol.

K and I don't like the same kinds of music, so we have a great time intelligently debating the merits of those who make each rounds of cuts...

Me: "She looks like a terodactyl, so I don't think she's going very far."

K: "What does that have to do with her talent?!?"

Me: "Nothing. But how many terodactyls have you ever seen with successful singing careers? There's my point."

All of this brings me to my next revelation.

This season, I have been a big fan of Brooke, but I knew her time was coming to an end. What I don't understand is the fascination with David Archuleta. He's precious and whatnot, but I am not enamored with him or his talent.

Now, David Cook -- he rocks! He's talented, both vocally and instrumentally. I think he deserves to be in the top 4.

David Archuleta, while talented, isn't in the same league... and he looks like Max off of PBS's "Dragon Tales."

Disturbing resemblance, isn't it?

If Brooke and the other Austrailian rocker guy have to go, cute little David needs to go, too. I have a hard time taking him seriously because I keep expecting him to flit off to Dragon Land to visit Weezie and the other dragons.