D. I. Y. tomfoolery

It’s a sign either 1) that I’m settling in and getting a little relaxed after the move, or 2) that I’m finally losing it. It’s no secret that baseball comes in somewhere not too far behind liberty on the scale of my obsessions: watching and listening to games accounts for much of the minimal downtime that my attention gets from things like French grammar, the fine points of Proudhon, the economics of infoshops, etc. I inherited the love of baseball and, specifically, of the Boston Red Sox, from my grandmother, who was an avid fan. I catch a couple of games a day, mostly on the radio or web radio, mostly of collegiate summer league or professional minor league teams.

It’s also probably not much of a secret that my mind frequently works in half-mad leaps between subjects, at least some of which can eventually be turned into good sense of one sort or another. It was the product of two or three of those mental leaps that produced my own personalized version of the ALL logo, more or less as a joke. Curiously, the post containing the first version of the joke got about twice as many hits as posts usually get. (Put it up there with the notice of my small Lucifer archive, the Stephen Pearl Andrews article about Kant, and the post with the Distributive Passions “FedEx” collage as unlikely hits, for whatever reasons.)

In any event, having blown an hour or two on designing an entirely personal logo, why wouldn’t I spend a night stitching it on a baseball cap. My embroidery skills are admittedly rusty, and tidy work on a ball-cap is not the easiest thing in the world, but, hey, I did it, and I have my DIY conversation piece that also keeps the sun off.

It’s fun to do this kind of stuff, just to prove to yourself that you can.

No nations but the Red Sox Nation! It ain’t plumb-line, but I’ll stick with it.