So Long, and Thanks for all the Comments

You may have been wondering why “The Traveling Newlyweds” is still alive and well, even though Brendan and I aren't technically traveling right now. The short reason is that we love this blog and enjoy taking subtle (and not-so-subtle) digs at each other in front of all you lovely people. It's been a ball, really.

But we aren't really “The Traveling Newlyweds” anymore. We're just a couple folks in an in-between stage of our lives, looking for work and eating a lot of microwave burritos. Unemployment isn't quite as exciting as crossing the Bali Strait during a monsoon, especially from a relationship perspective. So we're hanging up the hat here, at least for now.

I'd love to bust back onto iVillage in another form down the road, and I hope that if and when that happens, you'll come visit us again. Until then, thank you so much for your support, well-wishes, and advice. If want to keep up with us online, I'm still blogging regularly, and if Brendan gets bored enough, he may even start one up too. I wouldn't hold your breath, though. He watches an awful lot of baseball.

Take care, everyone.

Sarah

Go Barry!

Every night it’s the same. Barry Bonds walks to the plate. My mother-in-law hurries into the room and stands waiting, Sarah looks up from her laptop and claps, “Come on Barry!”

I am trapped in Giants fan hell.

See, I don’t like Mr. Bonds. If you follow baseball, you know what I’m talking about. If not, the situation is such that Barry Bonds will soon break the all-time home run record, arguably the most hallowed in American sport. And he’ll have done it with reported help from steroids.

“But you don’t know that,” Sarah says.

“Sure, I never actually saw him jab a needle in his butt, but there’s a lot of evidence that says he did.”

“Well, still you don’t know. I wish you’d just drop it.”

But she’s wrong. I do know, along with everyone else outside the Bay Area. What I don’t know is how the two of them can keep on fooling themselves. But again, maybe they know he’s a juicer, but they just don’t care. Baseball is turning into professional wrestling that way, with designated good guys and bad guys. The problem is that no one seems to care that this game shouldn’t be like professional wrestling. This is real. Barry Bonds really is going to stain the game. And yet, I keep watching and buying tickets, so I guess I’m to blame too.

I know this may seem trivial to non-baseball fans, but for reasons I can’t really explain, this whole thing means a lot to me. I fell like something good is being lost.

“You’re obsessed with Barry Bonds. That’s all you ever talk about.”

I just want someone to see my point. Another Cubs fan around the house would be nice.

“You love Barry. Admit it.”

I try to explain that what’s happening now is going to be remembered for years and years. Someday, there may be grandkids who want to know what it was like watching Bonds chase the record even though everyone knew he was juiced. Although, I’m almost positive this won’t happen. Something tells me kids two generations away won’t be as baseball-obsessed as I am. And maybe that’s a good thing, since it’s one less thing to fight about.

-Brendan