It's hot here. And that's pretty unusual. It's never hot here. I grew up in Massachusetts, land of Hazy, Hot, and Humid summers, and I miss the heat sometimes.

But this week San Francisco has delivered. Genuine hot summer weather! I'm loving it. I celebrated today by taking a long walk down the Embarcadero, all the way to AT & T Park. At least, I think that's what it's called now. You know, where the Giants play. I walked all around the park, and spent some time looking into the field from the back of the stadium, where there is a free viewing area. With no game today, there wasn't much to see, but it was still fun.

Being at the ball park reminded me of how much I love baseball. It's weird. I don't exactly follow baseball. I never know which players on on which team. I never know who won last night's game. I never know how many games out of the lead my beloved Red Sox are. I don't care about baseball in that way. But I love baseball. I love going to games. I'm lucky. My hometown park was Fenway, and that's as good as it gets. I sat in the stands with my family, and ate hot dogs and Sport Bars. My uncle Alan explained the finer points of the game to me. I tried to pay attention. Mostly, I just absorbed the atmosphere.

In July, the Sox are coming to Oakland. You know I'll be there. It's not Fenway, but I'm sure there will be hot dogs, and uncles explaining the game to nieces.