Like MacArthur — the general, not his troubled namesake park — I have returned. After two weeks away, I came back to work Monday rested and refreshed. Being inclined to vacations of only a few days, I have to admit this longer break has left me disoriented.
Many of you look familiar to me, but I am struggling to recall how I know you.
Also, the nature of my line of work is eluding me. It might be retail, or possibly something in the sciences. Well, it will all come back to me soon enough.
I left for vacation July 5 via Ontario International Airport. On the walls of the security screening area, two small electronic billboards cycled through a series of advertisements. One was for the University of Redlands.
In all caps, its message was: “RELENTLESSLY REDLANDS.” Explanation: “100+ Years of Social Impact.”
It’s a university slogan, and a bit startling on first encounter. As a Redlander later confided: “‘Relentlessly Redlands’ sounds almost threatening.” To be fair, the phrase passed muster with airport security, so it must be benign.
(Maybe Azusa Pacific can adopt something similarly alliterative and pushy, like “AGGRESSIVELY AZUSA.”)
My first destination was Houston. This was part of my long-range plan to see a game at every Major League Baseball stadium. But this choice was fraught.
You may recall the 2017 cheating scandal, in which the Astros stole the signs for Dodger pitches before they were thrown, which helped the Astros win the World Series.
(I don’t recall how the Astros were sanctioned, but perhaps being based in high-humidity Houston is punishment enough.)
Going to Houston to see the Astros is problematic for any Dodger fan. However, as loyal readers know, I am not a Dodger fan. Still, many of my friends are, and I am loyal to them and to L.A.
I considered wearing a shirt for my own team, the St. Louis Cardinals, even though they weren’t playing. Instead, I wore subtly pro-L.A. garb, a T-shirt from Pomona’s Mi Cafecito coffeehouse.
With a design that mimics the Dodger logo, it’s white with blue script, the baseball replaced by a flying coffee cup.
At the ballpark, only one person visibly reacted to my sartorial choice. A stadium employee pointed at my shirt and laughed appreciatively. Good for him.
Normally, to be a polite visitor, I root for the home team, unless the home team is playing the Cardinals. In the July 7 game at Daikin Park, the Astros were playing the Cleveland Guardians.
Rather than risk being impolite by rooting for Cleveland, I outwardly stayed neutral, merely clapping for any particularly good play. In my heart, though, the Astros’ 7-5 loss was satisfying.
This was Ballpark No. 18 out of 30 for me. I’m in no hurry to finish. One or two per season is good enough. My quest doubles as a way to see the country.
After four days in The City With No Limits, I left Houston for St. Louis, the city that has, no kidding, lost population every single year since 1950. It’s the closest major city to my Illinois hometown of Olney (pop. 8,500), and a convenient meeting point for my family.
A baseball game is obligatory. On July 11, the Cardinals hosted the Atlanta Braves. I was in the stands with my brother and sister-in-law. Near the game’s end, a cluster of Braves fans in the next section launched into a rote, listless version of the team’s infamous tomahawk chop.
This involves making a chopping motion with one forearm while emitting a modulated moan meant to sound vaguely “Indian.” It’s as offensive and culturally boorish as it sounds.
As they carried on, my brother responded with a similarly modulated bellow: “ray-ay-ay-cism!”
A Cards fan down the row from us instructed Braves fans: “Do a tomahawk chop for every game you are below .500,” chopping the air as he counted out, “one… two… three…”
Sadly, the Braves maintained their lead and won, 6-5. The Cardinals have lost a lot of games lately by one run. Also, by two runs, three runs and, on Sunday, nine runs.
There is related news, unfortunately.
On Sunday, making America groan again, our 79-year-old president declared that baseball’s Cleveland Guardians and football’s Washington Commanders ought to restore their former names, the Indians and Redskins, respectively (but not respectfully).
“Our great Indian people, in massive numbers, want this to happen,” the president insisted on social media.
I imagine his next demand will be that CBS replace Stephen Colbert with “Amos ‘n’ Andy.”
You don’t want to hear much about St. Louis, I’m sure, so I’ll keep it short.
I shared a friendly lunch with Bill McClellan, my counterpart at the Post-Dispatch. (It’s all coming back: I write a newspaper column!) And among other perennial stops for us, my parents and I went to the famous Route 66 stand, Ted Drewes, for cups of frozen custard.
Immediately after this rich dessert, we drove to a museum whose existence I’d learned of online.
“We’re headed to the Miniature Museum,” my father explained to my mother. “Or rather, to the Museum of Miniatures.”
My mother replied: “I was going to say, I don’t think we’d fit!”
Our last meal was breakfast at First Watch. Our friendly waiter asked where we were from. Hearing that I live in California, he asked where. To save time, I said the Los Angeles area.
“I grew up in Riverside,” he said. In fact, he was valedictorian at Cal Baptist. And now when Owen Brown isn’t waiting tables, he heads a Christian theater company, Bread & Wine.
He said he’s found a home in friendly St. Louis.
Small world. And smaller still: Hours later, in the airport terminal, a passenger passing near me wore a Loma Linda University sweatshirt.
It did not include a motto like “LOUDLY LOMA LINDA.”
brIEfly
The Pomona Concert Band’s summer season is underway with free concerts at 7:30 p.m. each Thursday through Aug. 28 at the Ganesha Park bandshell, 1575 N. White Ave. in Pomona. I will emcee twice: this Thursday (July 24) and Aug. 7. Let the puns fall where they may.
David Allen writes Wednesday, Friday and Sunday, punishingly. Email dallen@scng.com, phone 909-483-9339, and follow davidallencolumnist on Facebook, @davidallen909 on X or @davidallen909.bsky.social on Bluesky.
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