Dan Gillmor posted a link to my proposed blogger day at the ballgame, to which a commenter raised the following point:

Wouldn’t that be illegal? Are you allowed to broadcast updates on the game without express written permission of Major League Baseball?

I don’t think posting to a blog with an audience of 127 is exactly broadcasting, and it’s not like anybody’s going to follow a game on a blog when they can just tune into it on TV or radio. In any case, they can’t copyright the experience of being at a baseball game — which is all I’m interested in documenting.

Still, there’s an interesting issue afoot: SBC Park, where the San Francisco Giants play, offers free wireless internet access. What’s to stop somebody from sneaking a digital video recorder into the ballpark and shipping streaming video to the outside world? (I’m guessing they have a way to keep this from happening … or they will after the first time they catch somebody doing it).

As usual, the technology is miles ahead of the law.

The San Francisco Giants play the Oakland Athletics in Oakland in June, and I’m hoping to get as many bloggers as possible to the game and to write about it on their blogs.

The game I’ve chosen is at 1 p.m. Sunday, June 27. I picked an afternoon game because it’ll be sunny and great for taking pictures. I picked Giants-A’s to atttact the most local fan/bloggers.

I’ve already spoken to a couple local bloggers who say they’re game, so if you’re in the Bay Area, what say you come along for the fun?

This will not be a day for people to form into an unruly blob and talk tech. It’ll be a day to go to the ballpark and be a fan. We don’t have to sit together — it’d be better if we scattered ourselves around the park for the widest range of perspectives.

I’ll be in the outfield bleachers in straight-away center. Tickets for this game will go fast and might well be sold out before game day, so buy ’em in advance (a good idea even if you plan to sit in the bleachers — the ticket line for last Sunday’s game took 15-20 minutes, and that was a day when the stadium was half-full).

I’ll post reminders every few weeks to help jog your memory. If you usually work on Sunday (that means you, George), well, you’ve got two months to swap with somebody, so get busy.

Some of the lefty blogs have started calling the “civilian contractors” in Iraq mercenaries. The idea being: they’re mostly ex-military and they’re in Iraq for the big bucks. Guns for hire, mainly.

But my understanding of the term is that a mercenary would fight under any flag in any land if the paycheck is big enough. Does anybody seriously think former Navy Seals are going to hire on for brushfire wars in central Africa or take jobs protecting drug kingpins in Colombia? Could happen, I suppose, but it seems unlikely.

What’s really happening in Iraq is that guys who signed up for enormous risk as U.S. special-ops troops are finally getting some of the monetary rewards denied them by us, the U.S. taxpayers.

Having all these private employees and all their lethal training outside Pentagon control raises any number of worrisome issues, but that doesn’t really mean they’ve become mercenaries in the widest meaning of the term.

So keep an eye out: “mercenary” has a politically charged meaning these days … it’s become a fresh buzzword that we should be keeping out of news copy, except in direct quotes.

It was either blogging or sleeping for that hour. I chose sleep.

More juicy linkage tomorrow.

My Banned for Life blog has been busy for the past week or so. Stop by for fresh evidence of stale usage if you haven’t lately.

The Goodguys Rod & Custom Association’s 22nd All-American Get-together is happening this weekend at the Alameda
County Fairgrounds in Pleasanton, which is just down the road from us. Thousands
of people and cars show up at a massive car show/swap meet/flea market. These
are some highlights.

This wacky yellow inflated guy zig-zags about at the entrance to the show.
I was there Saturday, the first day.

This old Ford has a beautiful paint job — though you can’t tell so much in
this photograph. I love the torpedo grille on this model.

My dad and I rebuilt a 1965 Ford Ranchero like this one. Ours wasn’t quite
as slick but we had the satisfaction of knowing we’d built it ourselves.

In California, people will make a stretch limo out of anything, including a
’57 Chevy.

Some folks are prone to getting carried away with the Stars and Stripes.

The ’55 Chevy Nomad was the coolest car ever manufactured in North America.
I strongly suspect this is not the factory paint job.

The grille makes this big ol’ Buick look like somebody’s crabby uncle.

A chopped-and-channeled ’51 Mercury with exquisite custom paint. This body
style was immortalized in the movie "Rebel Without a Cause," though
James Dean drove a ’49 Merc. My dad owned a snazzy ’50 Merc that he gave to
his brother, who promptly wrecked it.

No word on whether Jack Nicholson posed for this paint job.

I’m pretty sure this is a 1940 Mercury; I just love that robin-egg-blue color.
Seems like it ought to have Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall in the front seat.

There’s something vaguely pornograhic about all these cars having their hoods
open and their engines wagging in the breeze — this classy Jaguar seems a bit
shamed by the experience.

Cadillac’s tailfins got totally out of hand when the ’59s came out. Which makes
this model the second-coolest ever built in North America.

Remember how Bob Seger talked about doing the nasty in the back seat of his
’60 Chevy? Well, this is the back seat of a ’60 Chevy. It looks better without
fumbling teens practicing their Night Moves in it.

These dolls could well be possessed by the devil.

Think of "Time" by Pink Floyd. And ask yourself why the organizers
of these things think we all want to listen to classic rock over the intercom.

At least half the fun was checking out all the spare parts for sale, like these
speedometers.

$250 or best offer buys you this swell Continental kit. You must supply your
own Continental. (NOTE THIS IS NOT FOR SALE TODAY — this event was in 2004).

These are necessary because, you know, the car manufacturers have this strange
defect which causes them to install really sucky steering wheels.

At last, some collector cars that I can afford.

One guy was even selling these really snazzy antique gas pumps.

Evidence is here. I’ve been thinking that sooner or later I should take a chance on those noisy old things, so Melissa and I made a day of it Tuesday. Another good workout for my Canon PowerShot A70 digicam.

Today Melissa and I decided to do something usually reserved for tourists:
ride the cablecars in San Francisco and take pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge.
We had a couple other diversions too, as you’ll notice.

If you want to ride an uncrowded cablecar, take the California Street line.
It starts at the foot of Market Street, stops at Nob Hill and Chinatown, and
continues uphill to Van Ness Avenue, where you grab another car and ride it back
down.

Melissa gets settled in for the ride at the foot of California Street.

The cab drivers have to squeeze in between the cablecars and the curb. This
guy was about 12 inches from my knees when he passed.

Fares are 3 bucks for a one-way ticket, or 9 bucks for an all-day pass. We
opted for the latter. You hop on and the conductor comes along and collects
the fare.

The view out the back, looking down California Street. It’s a lot steeper than
it looks.

Here’s the Powell Street cablecar. It’s almost always packed to the gills because
it picks up a load of passengers down the hill at Fisherman’s Wharf. Good
luck getting on … we tried three times and they all were full.

It was sunny, breezy and cool — perfect sweater/jacket weather.

Here comes another one up the street.

This one does a better job of conveying how steep the street is. It’s no vacation
trying to walk these streets.

That’s the Transamerica Pyramid in the background.

The sun’s a blur at Grace Cathedral, high atop Nob Hill.

It’s an impressive edifice by any measure.

The hazards of getting your camera too close to the window.

After we tired of the cablecars, we stopped by sports bar where somebody in
a silly suit was handing out free baseballs.

Inside, a more sanely clad guy gave us these balls. They’re part of a contest
in which the winner gets to throw out the first pitch at a San Francisco Giants
game.

Toward the end of the afternoon we made our way over to the Golden Gate Bridge. It’s
majestic any time of day.

A ship passes on its way out to sea.

Even a softheaded liberal like yours truly appreciates a nice patriotic image.

Digital cameras take wonderful sunsets.

We traveled to Twin Peaks, high above the city, after sunset. The white line
down the middle is Market Street.

The wireless experience: I’m on the porch, kicking back in my lawn chair. I can see the tops of the trees decorating the apartment complex. The sky is that perfect color of blue you see only with 50 miles of the ocean. It’s breezy and warm, low 80s.

I’m listening to tunes streaming from my CPU in the other room. Bob Dylan growling something about love gone bad.

The beer is made by Gordon Biersch, a San Jose microbrewery. BG makes life worth living — in moderation of course. Surest way to ruin your appreciation for a good beer is to drink a lot of it. You need that taste you get when you haven’t had one in a week.

Just another reason why people move to California but never move back.

Did I mention I’m on vacation this week? Got three days to get my brain ready for this presentation I’m doing in Houston. Blogging for copy editors.

Maybe it’ll be nice in Houston but it won’t be this nice.

I have a way-cool new toy: an Apple wireless mouse. It uses the Bluetooth module built into my iBook. (Review of wireless devices here).

Note to self: find out who makes all the batteries and start buying up their stock.