Cal Ripken and the Orioles of my youth

I feel that not enough has been said lately in congratulations of my boy Cal who was voted into the Baseball hall of fame. It makes me nostalgic for my teenage years when going to a baseball game meant seeing him playing shortstop, revered almost as deity in my hometown.

So I thought in honor of Cal, I would show you two of my prized possessions. First is a set of nesting dolls that I bought in Prague in 2001. I love these guys. You can't see but on the backs, their names are spelled wrong, "Orioles" is spelled wrong on the next-to-smallest, and truthfully, some of them that seem to be painted like African Americans actually aren't in person. Its hilarious. Cal is the biggest one, if you couldn't recognize his more distinctive features. I personally have always gotten a kick of the tiniest one being Brady Anderson, because Brady always struck me as being a little big-headed. But maybe that's just me.

Then, I have a collection of newspaper and magazine clippings from the Streak days. Mom sent them to me in Israel because that's where I was when the Streak was broken. I have faithfully put them up in every apartment I've ever lived in--makes me feel more at home, I suppose.

I made a collage here with various postcards and snapshots that are sentimental to me. Its on the closet door in my office, where I can see cool places I've visited, but also, a little slice of my Baltimore home. (Some of the clippings were getting a little too worn from being hung on closet doors all over creation, so I settled for this one, although its not my favorite.)