Was in Michigan over the weekend for a trash tournament. Team finished second thanks to one of the more impressive individual performances I've seen in a finals match from Craig Barker, who went (I believe) 2-7-0 to lead his team to a 12 point win. The tournament was well enjoyed, nothing to really complain about on my end other than a less than optimal afternoon of personal performance. Too much sitting on answers.

What makes the trip really notable was our Saturday night excursion to Toledo to see minor league hockey. We took in the Toledo Storm-Lexington Men 'o War East Coast Hockey League tilt. It was quite something. We got to the Toledo Sports Arena a little late, and thus parked in the marina behind the arena. Not in its parking lot, but in and among some of the boats brought in for the winter. We could have used an ice boat to get back to the arena, as there was an ice sheet 2 or 3 inches thick where we parked.

The game was 2-1 Toledo when we entered during the first intermission. The ticket-taker gave me a shake of the head as I entered, which I took as chastisement for showing up so late. In retrospect, he could have been shaking his head in disbelief that people would pay good money to attend the game. Either way I was thinking of calling him on it, but Toledo's the sort of place where you do that at your peril, given that you could get a blackjack to the side of the head for your trouble.

Lexington (who, as the Men 'o War, had unis that featured not horses or jellyfish, but an iron mask) evened the score with a softie that dribbled over the goal line. That ended the scoring for that period, the next period, and overtime. Toledo had Lexington on their heels (hooves? tentacles?), but couldn't put one in. Mostly due to their lack of shooting acumen.

This took the game into shootout. Both teams scored on their first shots. Lexington would go on to win the shootout 2 to 1- after each team sent EIGHT SHOOTERS to the net. Ugly.

Also ugly was the crowd, which was clearly the grittiest minor league hockey crowd I'd ever seen. This was not your youth hockey, soccer mom crowd. This was your Jim Anchower look-alike, let's-call-the-African-American-ref-"Buckwheat" crowd. And before you think I stereotype, I personally had both within 10 feet of my seat on Saturday. Maybe we were just in the miscreant section.

After the game we went to Tony Packo's, which should be known to any M*A*S*H fan as Max Klinger's hot dog emporium of choice. There was sufficient show memorabilia, including a life-size cut out of Klinger in his yellow chiffon. Sadly, there was no camera to record the moment. The hot dogs are very good, and I highly endorse a trip there should you find yourself in Toledo. It was also where I was introduced to the ways of the fried pickle, which was tasty (though I'm told they're better at state fairs, probably due to the more complex "bouquet" of the oil).

The other thing about the trip is that I confirmed that I'd be a lousy road tripper. Lack of license aside, I tend to fall asleep in cars when going a long distance. Perhaps it'd be different if I were actually driving. Let's hope so, anyway.

Example of my kind of luck #7266: on the flight home, I moved my seat assignment up a row into a space that was at least one seat from any other human being. As we prepared for takeoff, the closest people to me were a woman across the aisle who, having the row to herself was stretched out and sleeping, and a family of three (two adults plus small child) in front of her. Prior to takeoff, the husband in the group moves into the seat exactly in front of me and reclines noticably. The flight crew passes him at least 3 times before we head skyward, and never ask him to straighten up.

Thankfully, this being American Airlines, the added micron or two between rows left me with sufficient room (to paraphrase Phil Gramm, I had more space than I needed but less space than I wanted) to maneuver. Eventually he moved back to his original seat- but left the seat in front of me reclined. I put it back into its upright position. He then returned to the seat diagonally in front and did his thing, but that wasn't a problem.

I was also not able to use the new Mass Pike connector to get to Logan. It hadn't opened when we went to Logan on Saturday morning. And, on return, we learned that the westbound portion of this won't be ready until this time next year.