So long, Harry.

Little girls dream of their wedding day their entire lives, or so I am told by Meg Ryan movies. I am not—nor have I ever been—a little girl, so I gave as much thought to my eventual wedding as a young boy as I did to the legislative bureaucracy of Manitoba.

Yet something took place on my wedding day that would have sent my boyhood self into hysterics, and it nearly did to my adult self. My then fiancée had contacted the Phillies and asked if Harry Kalas, The Voice of The Phillies, could record the introduction of our wedding party prior to our first dance. Harry, ever the gentleman, obliged. He nailed the pronunciations and inflections like a true pro, and even added his signature “Outta Here!” call as he wished us well on our honeymoon. In a related story, my wife is awesome. Take a listen.

Click to hear Harry at my wedding

Most of the people at the wedding had no idea it was coming, and many friends and relatives—mostly guys who had consumed their body weight in gin—came up to me afterward with big, child-like grins on their faces, talking about how cool was to hear Harry Freaking Kalas like that.

It probably took Harry about two minutes to record that message for my wedding; I’ve retold the story at least a thousand times in the two-plus years since.

Such was the power of Harry Kalas.

Harry’s rich baritone could do a lot of things—set a mood, ratchet up the drama of a moment, or lighten up one with his slow laugh. But most of all, he could transport you to a better, simpler time. Back to when you were a kid, listening to Harry and Whitey Ashburn spin yarns for nine innings like two old codgers. He’d transport you to the hopeful moments after the sun had set and the humidity had eased up just enough to enjoy a Phils game on Prism—the long-departed premium channel that everyone got for free because of the snafus of the nascent cable television industry. It could remind you of barreling down the AC Expressway to the shore, when the radio’s reception was just good enough to hear Harry’s Marlboro-primed pipes call those middle innings. That voice could take you to your childhood backyard, when you’d pick up a bat and swing it with no one around, an imaginary stadium full of fans surrounding you and a phantom pitcher delivering a fastball down the middle in the bottom of the ninth. There was only one thing that could follow it:

“Swing and a long drive, deep left field, that ball is outta here!”

As we all know, Harry passed away this week. Fittingly, his last game in the booth was a great one, topped off with a clutch home run by Matt Stairs, a man whose unkempt facial hair, slight paunch, excessive chewing tobacco usage, and (roughly) 45-pound bat recall Harry’s beloved ragtag 1993 Phillies team. As always, Harry absolutely nailed the call.

Several months prior, he got to call the final out of the World Series when the Phils shocked us all and erased the pain of the thousands of awful losses that Harry and Whitey managed to make enjoyable. Most of us watched the game on TV or in crowded bars, so we didn’t hear Harry’s call when it happened, and as such, the whole surreal experience didn’t seem official until we heard Harry’s call. And of course, it was pure magic once we did.

The video cuts it off, but Harry continued by saying, “Let this city celebrate!” Now that same city mourns. We lost the friendly old chap we spent our summers with. We lost our greatest storyteller. We lost a bit of ourselves. We lost Harry.

Standing Out = Do Not Use Strathmore for your Business Cards

94,914 plays since October ’05

I love music more than most things. I also have an insatiable thirst for information and statistics. A few years back I was referred to a service called last.fm, which basically keeps track of your listening habits (at a computer or ipod) and makes sense of these, as well as serves a role as a social network and resource for concerts and artist information. In December of 06, Lee Byron put together his Listening History project, collecting his personal last.fm listening data and using Processing to create a visualization of his habits. A few months back, I started to see ads across the top of the last.fm page from HP, making these visualizations available to any user. LastGraph now offers a these visualizations in several varieties.

The “Poster” iteration is pretty, and perhaps shows a great deal of info in a timeline sort of way. Above is my past year in music. [Go ahead, click it and take a look at the whole huge thing in detail!] To point out a couple interesting spots, in the middle of August I was on the open road driving to Seattle, so as I probably still listened to plenty of music, the plays were not recorded by Alison’s car. [Yes, that first image way up top^^^]

Also, in my transition to Philadelphia, not having internet for a week or so made a significant dent in my listening stats.

In a strange way, these visualizations serve as a bit of a diary — spikes and drops often correlate to shows I attended, acquisitions/releases of albums, and even making new friends.

I eat this stuff up. Last.fm provides charts showing frequency of artists/songs at varying intervals of time too, for a more number-driven information. I’m at 94,914 plays since October 2005.
(and counting!)

Good News to all the World

This past weekend my family and I all gathered in Washington, DC to experience some Cherry Blossom Festival excitement. I didn’t quite make it to the acutal festival though, as I opted for the life altering event of visiting the Newseum in Washington, D.C. MORE

Dance Cookie Contest

It’s fun buying delicious food items to entice colleagues into performing ridiculous dance routines.

from Grocery at 13th & Chestnut

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Chestnut Hill College

35mm film, Fall 2008,
Some shots I took during the Trevor Dixon shoot, last fall, at Chestnut Hill College. Goodness gracious that place is beautiful…(via shepelavy.com)