Today is the day all baseball fans have been waiting for. Rather, All American League baseball fans.

Maybe that’s too strong. Let me whittle it down to it’s most basic component. It is the day that She has been waiting for. She didn’t watch much baseball last year. The Mariners just plain sucked. They didn’t suck hard enough to come in last though. (It’s a problem. I won’t go into the draft rules here.)

However, as this day dawns (cloudy, rainy, and a bit chilly), the Mariners find themselves in first place as they head to their home opener.

I’m not a big baseball fan. However, since She is, and I don’t want to be a baseball widow I follow along. (I am a little excited.)

Now, the Mariners have been in first place many times over the last couple of decades only to crash and burn by the third month of the season. However, last year they sucked out of the gate, so we have more hope.

So as we prep to go to the game, I hear birds chirping, and my chest swells.

With laughter as the cat bashes her head against the window stalking them.

Friday night, I had three pieces of beef. The Kansas, corn-fed, 28 day dry-aged, USDA Prime, filet mignon was the worst piece of meat on the plate.

Don’t get me wrong. It was a great piece of beef. In any other situation, it would have been a top-notch. It was a very good steak. It was shoe leather compared to the other two pieces of meat.

She and I went to the Metropolitan Grill in downtown Seattle for our 11th aniversary. We ordered their three steak combo. It had the aforementioned Kansas steak. It also had an American Wagyu steak and a true Japanese Kobe steak.

A good steak melts in your mouth. The Kansas steak did. With both the American Wagyu the Kobe, my mouth became the meat. Or something. They were tender beyond belief, and yet had a bit of tooth to them. They had flavor beyond that of mortal steaks. It was a little like they had been covered in garlic butter, but they hadn’t been covered in garlic butter.

Then we had a chocolate lava cake for desert.

We didn’t need to go home and have sex.

I’ve had Beatles tunes running through my head the last few days. Or I should say songs written by the Beatles. Sadly the performances are from a film.

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band is not a good film. It’s a bad film. It’s a very bad film. It’s a very, very bad film. I don’t blame the Bee Gees. They do some good singing. I don’t blame any of the actors. They may not turn out good performances, but top quality acting could not have saved this film.

I’ve been told that this film killed disco. I can see why. It was an expensive movie for the time, so I’m surprised it didn’t kill Hollywood. It is the epitome of the Hollywood system gone wrong. “The kids like these Beatle fellows, and they like those new Bee Gee kids. Make a film like that! Oh yeah, and add George Burns for the parents.”

George Burns turns in the best acting job in the film. His little soft-shoe in the town square shows that he has a better sense of rhythm than most other people in the film.

There a many good musicians and some of the covers are pretty good. As long as you aren’t watching the screen or paying attention to how horribly they shoe-horned the song in as a plot element.

It’s all stuck in my head now.

In can hold the horror of Sgt. Peppers at bay with another horror.

“Time’s up, time’s here, for the Watchmen — watch out!”

Because She is a big fan of Kitty Pryde, we are going to see the Watchmen a second time.

Seriously. We went to our Local Friendly Comic store, and the owner was bagging up some comics she’d just purchased. Yes. Our LFCB store is owned by a woman. The comics included the first appearances of Kitty Pryde. We purchased high quality issues of X-Men #129 and #143 (143 is the first issue she read). The bill came to over one hundred dollars.

As we made the purchase, the conversation drifted to the movie, and she gave us tickets.

However, I had to rush home and take care of my new baby. I gots me a netbook. It needed software and updating. She took care of most of the heavy lifting. Tonight we see it in IMAX. Watchmen, not my netbook.

As I get older, the more concerned I become with battery life. As I shop for a netbook, I’m not looking at processing speed or mememory as my primary deciding stats.

Lord help me! This is the first time in 20+ years where I don’t give a rats ass about the speed and memory of a machine. I’m always asking, “how long does the battery last?”

Part of it has nothing to do with age. My life has become incredibly technology dependent. Sony PRS eReader, iPod, iPhone, and Macbook Pro are all part of my “combat load.” I could be screwed if any of those items do not work. The number one reason they might not work is because the batteries are dead.

Any why might the batteries be dead? Because I don’t plug things in to recharge them every night. She might say it is because I’m blonde. I think it is because I’m getting old. Remembering to plug in my tech is just not something that comes naturally. I have to be reminded. For instance I have no Idea when I last plugged in my Macbo