2001-11-01 - 4:10 p.m.

One strange thing, though. No security. And I mean almost NONE. The cops made us show our stadium club passes before they'd let us around the side of the stadium, but what does that mean, really? There's not even a name on them. Then we walked right on in to the stadium club, no metal detectors, no ID showing, nada. Which supports my theory that most of these security measures are not, in fact, in case of terrorism. They are purely to make us feel better. No offense, but a barely legal National Guard soldier standing around Penn Station with a walkie-talkie is not going to prevent shit. Although I suppose they'd be good to have around if there actually WAS an attack of some sort. But I digress. Back to the game. The opening ceremonies actually choked me up. That tattered flag salvaged from the rubble of the Trade Center, the bald eagle (I don't care how cynical you are, that is some cool shit) and really, the whole vibe of a NY team carrying on. And quite spectacularly, as it turns out. The front row of our field section was lined with NYPD and FDNY, off duty. There were also sooo many kids, which I love to see. And after Tino hit that home run, the fans went absolutely nuts. The stadium felt, literally, like it was rocking. And the NY fans are always good for a few laughs - apparently, unbeknowst to me, there is a rule that if you catch a foul or home run ball that was hit by the opposite team, you're supposed to throw it back on the field. Rejecting, if you will, that it matters unless you're the Yankees. Someone violated this rule last night, and half the stadium was screaming themselves hoarse at the guy that caught it. "Throw it back, ya fuckin idiot!! Whatsamatta with you??" Heh. It was an amazing experience, all the way around. A big wet one to the boyfriend for refusing his hardcore NY fan friends to take me.

On the way home, on the D train, we ran into my crazy neighbor Matt, and rode home with him. When we got out at West 4th, (which is right on the Parade route) we came up to about 40 cops standing on the corner, and NO people. It was the quietest Halloween I have ever seen in the Village, EVER. Heading back to my apartment, we crossed Christopher Street, and I looked west, expecting to see the annual throng of crazy costumes and gawkers crowding Sheridan Square. Nope. Even when we went to bed, it was quiet, except for the sound of the police picking up the barricades. Kind of sad,that. I saw some footage this morning on our local cable news station, and it looked like a very subdued affair altogether.

In other news, this morning I stopped for coffee on my walk to work, at a new place. And the guy behind the counter put his own twist on the usual joke about my coffee. I think they must post it in the deli-man handbook.

Me: Hi. Large light, milk, no sugar.

Him: No sugar?

Me: No thanks

Him: Ah. You sweet enough, right?

Me:(handing over my dollar) that's right.

Him: Yeah, you already sweet.

So I smile, and hold out my hand, palm up, for the change. And he touches the center of my palm with his index finger, and then pretends to taste it. "Yes, you sweet without sugar." I hope he didn't give me the anthrax.

Oh, and one more thing. The other night I watched Willy Wonka on TV, while I was writing in my paper journal. And I actually wrote that I think Willy Wonka is an awesome feel-good movie. Eloi, my soul brotha, agrees, but apparently Weetabix has a different diagnosis.

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