Maybe a college friend, or any of my siblings– so we can commiserate, check in, share feelings in the wake of our brother’s death not quite a week ago. We’re all still walking around in a fog, going through the motions, hoping to awaken from this bad dream.
Author: tallthinman72
Short List
Pictures of family and friends and places we’ve been, certain mementos and souvenirs, maybe a few hats/caps. Pretty much everything else is just replaceble stuff.
Sentimental Value
Nothing of great signficance or monetary value, except maybe for a basketball signed by Bob Cousy, long after his playing days were over. Other than that, I have a box of memorabilia that I open every now and then, usually when we’re trying to put a dent in getting rid of stuff hanging around in the basement.
Just bits and pieces of my life– a popcorn holder from the first Red Sox game I attended at Fenway Park back in the early 60s, a moth-eaten pennant from a game we went to at Comiskey Park, between the Yankees and White Sox– a game Whitey Ford pitched, and in which Mantle and Maris were playing; an old magazine or front pages from the time of JFK’s assassination, and the Soxs’ first World Series win since Babe Ruth played for them– along with an empty Wheaties box with a picture of David Ortiz, and a glossy team photo from 2004. There are mementos from my trip to Philmont Scout Ranch, small rocks and other souvenirs from various places I’ve been over the years, ticket stubs from sporting events and concerts, along with several volumes of journaling I’ve attempted along the way.
There might be a small treasure trove in the top drawer of my bureau, just bits and pieces of stuff tucked in corners, under the socks and t-shirts.
Not just taking up space
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t give it much thought, but I figure at this point, any consideration of a legacy might have something to do with my time in the church. People might see and remember me through that lens, even though I myself view those years as mostly struggle.
I haven’t and probably won’t start any hospitals or foundations, haven’t set any records, written any books or music, or invented anything. I’ve led a non-descript life, by and large, trying but sometimes not succeeding in being an attentive husband and father, being unmoved by or lacking any motivation to nurture and refine certain proclivities, or to be remembered at all, and yet very much hoping that at least a few close family members will miss me when I’m gone.
I guess, in the end, if people remember me as a serious thinker who tried to have a sense of humor, that’ll be all I can ask, or expect.
Icy
Don’t like it. I used to, back in grade school days, when most winters would offer up at least a few weeks of cold enough weather and proper conditions to assure a decent place to skate.
If cold weather lingers too long into the spring, it starts to wear on me. I have a tendency to go into a sort of dormancy. There’s a temptation to push the thermostat up a bit, and settle into the comfy chair. I start craving warmth.
A Happy Diversion
I can see where amusement parks might make a good business this summer, being such welcome distractions from other stuff going on.
We went to a local park recently and had a great time watching the grandkids try some new rides for the first time. Their expressions were worth the price of admission, even though there was no price for admission—parking is free and tickets are purchased in the park for whatever rides folks want to try. And there are some good ones—plenty to do for kids of all ages!
Anyway, to see the joy on their faces, hear the exhilaration in their voices, and a sense of accomplishment and discovery, was worth the trip. Their joy is infectious, extends to the adults around them.
It was a happy place, by and large. Kudos to the staff and management at Knoebels, who provide such a gem of a spot.
A Friday Evening
Yes, on April Fool’s day, three years ago. Had fractures in both arms around the elbows. I was running behind my granddaughter on the sidewalk in front of our house, turned away for one second, turned back and realized she had stopped running, did a clumsy avoidance maneuver and landed with a fair amount of force on my hands. She was a bit stunned, but none the worse for wear. Rehab went well, and there are hardly any residual effects.
N.A.
There currently isn’t any work/home life to have to balance. Retirement has taken that off the table, at least for the time being.
Who’s The Boss?
Bruce Springsteen said some pretty damning things about Trump and his… administration, if that’s the right word. Bruce was in Manchester, England recently and took the time at the beginning of a show to lambast what’s been happening at home since, well, Trump took office the first time, but especially since January 20th of this year.
It might make one wonder what things will be like when Springsteen returns to the states. He’s obviously on the shit list now, if he wasn’t already. Trump even hinted as much in his inevitable rant on Truth Social in which he said the usual sophomoric stuff about someone he doesn’t like, ending with “… we’ll see how it goes for him” when he gets back here.
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Probably involves litigation– that’s all Trump has, besides the true heavy-handedness he gets to wield because he’s a vindictive child with masked minions at his disposal.
Nope
Among the occasional annoyances that are part and parcel of being alive, there’s one of late that’s really pissing me off: cats. Feral, stray cats relieving themselves in flower gardens and raised beds, night after night. I’ve tried several “remedies,” but largely to no avail. Looks like fences and netting are the extent to which we must go in order to keep our yard from being turned into a cat lavatory.
Makes me, at a minimum, want to use bad words.
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