Game Seven

 There will be a game seven tonight and I am here for it. After 5 weeks of post-season baseball, it will come down to one game for all the marbles. Neither of my teams will be playing but it doesn’t matter. I’ve never been particularly fond of either the Dodgers or the Blue Jays. It doesn’t matter. I am 100% invested in this game because it is the ultimate example of the beauty and romance that is baseball. 

As far as a rooting interest goes I will be pulling hard for the Blue Jays for a variety of reasons. First of all, I kinda despise the Dodgers, not the actual players—many of whom are really good guys who are easy to like—but rather I dislike how they are run as a franchise. They buy up stars all over the place then rest them half the year so they will be ready for the post season. They are perfectly willing to pay a guy 30 million a year and let him rest half the season. Very few other teams could afford to do that. Plus there’s the whole celebrity-sightings at the game which make me want to vomit.

Then there are the Blue Jays who in ordinary times I would completely ignore. They have a handful of very good players, but mostly it’s a roster filled with unknowns. The fact that they have taken the mighty Dodgers to a game seven is quite remarkable. But the real reason I will be pulling for them is because…well, they’re Canadian. In normal times, this would be an insurmountable obstacle for me, Canadian teams always having seemed vaguely inappropriate. But this year, I figure we owe our friends north of the border something for the shitty way we have treated them lately, from punitive tariffs to bellicose nonsense about making them our 51st state. I mean what have these people ever done to us to deserve such disrespect? All they have ever been are great and peaceful neighbors, not to mention being a constant example to Americans of what proper manners looks like. So there’s that.

So, tonight I will be watching. I will be texting back and forth with my son, my sister and amazingly—my wife—who has shown an interest all the way from Columbia. I will have the privilege of watching the best baseball player I have ever seen—Shohei Ohtani, pitching against my personal favorite baseball player of all time—Max Scherzer. Ohtani is at the peak of his immense powers, Max is running on fumes at the end of his Hall of Fame career. Ohtani might be the nicest, most agreeable super star in the history of sport. Max is a bit crazy, with a mixture of talent and tenacity that feels combustible, volatile to the point of madness—which makes him imminently watchable.

There will be many potential heroes besides the two pitchers. Vladdy Guerrero is the Blue Jays best player and so much fun to watch. George Springer is playing on pure guts, every swing of his bat sending him grimacing in pain either around the bases or back to the dugout. But with the Blue Jays it might be one of their nobodies—Lukes, Varsho, Barger, Clement—all guys I had never even heard of before this post season. For the Dodgers and their 350 million dollar payroll of All-Stars, it could be any one of them. But as a lifelong baseball fan I would bet on the hero being someone off the bench, an afterthought member of the roster…because that’s the romance of baseball.

No matter the outcome of the game one thing is for sure…melancholy will follow.

Every year it’s the same thing. After the euphoria of the World Series dies down I am reminded that there will be no more baseball for four long months. I will be denied the daily box score, the way the slow pace of the season helps me calibrate my life to its rhythm. I will lose the special connection that baseball gives me with my son. No matter how far away he is, baseball brings us together.

So after tonight I will begin counting the days until spring training. But tonight? Tonight is the most wonderful night of the year.

Game Seven of the World Series.

What I Have Learned in Retirement….so far.

 I’m ten months in to my retirement which is long enough to have learned some things about my new life. Since I know many people who will be joining me in retirement over the next few years I thought I might list a few of the most interesting things I’ve learned since January 1st…in no particular order.

* I now for the first time fully understand the famous quip from Violet Crawley in Downton Abbey—What is a weekend?? Weekends no longer carry the cache they used to, and this is a very good thing because it has had the effect of rendering every day equally capable of enchantment, wonder and discovery. Of course, this has always been so, it’s just that now I finally recognize this truth. When I was working, days like Tuesday and Thursday got pigeonholed by the calendar as days to endure rather than celebrate. Now, Tuesday might wind up being as delightful as any other. What a gift.

* I now no longer feel compelled to shave every day. When you run an investment business it won’t do to show up to a meeting with a client with a five day growth. The thing is I have always hated shaving. It was something that I resented being forced to do. But now shaving is always a game time decision. I shave when the mood strikes me, which feels like an unexpected bonus.

* I had no idea how much I crave routine until I retired. When I worked each day, each week and each month was at least partially scripted. There were things that I needed to check off my list, things that had to be done by a certain time. To suddenly be released from this script was a bit troubling. So…I improvised. I quickly established new daily habits—exercises, a walking regimen, and morning visits to Hope Cafe (my new unofficial office). This structure has helped form new routines, a new rhythm.

* I must confess that I’ve never been a big prayer guy. I know this might sound odd coming from a Christian but it’s the truth. Yes, I pray, but it’s never been a huge priority and I’ve never gotten in to any sort of specific “prayer closet” thing. Most of my prayers come in one or two sentences as I’m out walking when someone or something comes to mind. But now, with my new freedom I feel more inclined to pray for people. Maybe it’s because I feel so incredibly blessed and lucky at this stage of my life that praying for others, especially those who are struggling seems like a necessity rather than some guilt-ridden obligation.

That’s all I’ve got so far, but I’m sure I will learn more as time goes by. After all, when you stop learning you might as well stop living.

The Greatest Gift

 I freely admit that I have lost all objectivity where my grandson is concerned. It has gotten to the point where I am unable to think dispassionately about him, having completely lost perspective and the ability to think critically. This is no doubt a result of him being my first grandchild, and just having spent an entire week with him, observing him at every point in his day and watching him dominate every room he enters.

But this little boy is the greatest gift I’ve ever received. Although his parents still think they have no idea what they’re doing, what I see is a boy who is healthy, happy, safe, and loved…and so stinkin’ adorable I can hardly stand it…

The Violence in Columbia, SC is off the Charts

 As many of you know, I’m what some people would call manically committed to my workout routines. I have to get my five mile walks in at least 4 days a week, no matter where I happen to be. So while I’m in Columbia, this means heading out each morning through some mildly sketchy neighborhoods. I must say, I have been taken aback at the level of crime that is running rampant through this city.

Just a couple of days ago I was out for a walk when out of nowhere I was set upon with a violin, a clarinet, and a French Horn—in what was clearly an orchestrated attack!

But that’s not the half of it. Yesterday came news that thieves had broken in to the police station in Earlwood—just up the road from us, and stolen both of their toilets! On the news tonight I heard that they are searching for clues but right now they have…nothing to go on.

If that’s not enough, there was a breaking news report just a few minutes ago that the police headquarters of all of Columbia was hit by thieves overnight who jacked up all the police cruisers in the parking lot, stole all the wheels and left the cruisers on cinderblocks. The police are working…tirelessly…to catch whoever was responsible but are distracted by the Vick’s Vapor Rub truck which overturned on Interstate 20 between Columbia and Darlington. Although the Police first announced that there would be…no congestion… for at least eight hours, that time has passed.

Alright, its getting crazy now—-literally as I was typing that last paragraph, we heard another report of a man over in Five Points who was shot with a starter’s pistol, then beaten half to death with a relay baton. Police think it may have been…race related.

So, the lesson for all of you—stay away from Columbia!!

Team Silas

 We are back in Columbia for the second half of our October grand parenting assignment—to take care of Silas while Kaitlin is back at work. So far, so good.

Yesterday I was tasked with getting him to take a one and a half to two hour nap. It started off great when he fell asleep after one book and a couple of songs I sang while he nodded off. An hour and forty-five minutes later he woke up abruptly, took a brief look around and immediately began to communicate his grave disappointment in this new reality. Either he had a bad dream or was upset that I wasn’t Lolli. Either way, he cried and cried—real tears and everything! But soon all was well after I took him outside for a walk around his neighborhood. He loved the flowers and the feel of the wind and the sun on his face. Then he destroyed his bottle like a champ and was good as gold for the rest of the day. While he was asleep for his nap I was able to take a couple of pictures…

It is quite remarkable how much my life has changed since I retired and this little boy was born. Spending two hours nap-trapped was not exactly how I pictured what retirement would be like but here we are. 

When Kaitlin told us she was on her way home Pam had us all gather out on the front porch to greet her. When she pulled up in the driveway she looked so happy. She whipped out her cell phone and snapped this picture…

That’s right. Behold TEAM SILAS!

The Purpose of the Internet

 I have come to the conclusion that the highest and most useful purpose of the internet is the curation and distribution of dad jokes. All other uses of the internet are a net negative and do nothing to promote human flourishing…

I saw an old man in the Publix parking lot collecting shopping carts.

He must have been pushing 70.

I recently got fired from the gym because I couldn’t bench press thirty pounds.

I had to put in my too weak notice.

My wife saw me buy two handguns from a T-Rex and said, “What the hell was that??”

I said, “He’s my small arms dealer.”

I paid $300 to rent a limo only to discover that it didn’t include the driver.

All that money and nothing to chauffeur it.

English Man: Are you two ladies from England?

Ladies: Wales!

English Man: Are you two whales from England?

Two windmills standing next to each other on a wind farm strike up a conversation. One of them asks the other, “So, what’s your favorite kind of music?”

The other says, “I’m a big metal fan.”

Morning Rain

 I love rainy mornings. There’s something soothing about waking up to the sound of rain on the roof. It slows you down. You see that it’s a rainy day and you think, what’s the rush? You walk downstairs and stand at the back door watching it fall on the deck. The grass is greener. The trees are darker, their leaves slick and glossy. You make your coffee then stand at the window drinking it. It tastes better this morning. You think of that old Bible verse about how the rain falls on the just and unjust alike and you’re glad it works that way. Even Lucy notices. She pauses at the top of the deck steps, lifts her nose high in the air and breathes deeply, in no particular hurry, just like me.

It occurs to me that I had nothing to do with the rainfall’s arrival and I will have no say on when it stops. This is out of my hands. More powerful forces are at play here. Human beings might take credit for a great many things, but we don’t conjure rain from the skies. And yet, if it suddenly stopped falling every single great civilizational advance made in the last 4000 years would turn to dust.

So when I wake up to the sound of raindrops on my roof I am thankful for the life-giving provision it brings. I’m grateful that it falls on me whether I’ve been good or bad.

I let Lucy back in. She knows the drill. She walks around in circles on the towel I have placed on the floor at the back door to dry her feet. There is a brightness in her eyes. She knows that rain is a good thing somehow. For her it means that Mom and Dad will be calmer today, less hurried. It will be a good day.