We’ve been living in absolute dreariness for weeks here in Boston, but suddenly the clouds broke and it became almost uncomfortably hot yesterday. I must say, the sunny and hot weather seemed most unfamiliar. I wouldn’t mind getting reacquainted with sunshine, though. On the other hand, the rain gives me a good excuse not to mow, and my grass is actually growing with all the water it’s getting.
Today is the first day of summer for the kids, who got out of school quite late since we had so many snow days. It was nice to awaken without the alarm clock for once, even if I didn’t actually sleep in.
Last week, I had multiple versions of my post Promises, Promises, in part about some of the upsetting things that have gone on with my son and baseball. When I wrote it, I didn’t give it another thought. But as the day wore on, it started to dawn on me that if the wrong person read it (not that I had any one person in mind), some of the people I was talking about might be identifiable and it could get repeated. While I still think that’s highly unlikely, as I don’t think anyone from town who reads my blog would know the people or the situation I was writing about, I did eventually revise it and managed to figure out how to purge the earlier version, all before the e-mail version went out which would make it permanent and irrevocable. In any case, if you did read the first version, just fergit it. I was being uncharacteristically thick. I mean, I can surely be thick, but I’m usually pretty careful about what I put in writing for public consumption.
In any case, I really am almost done with talking about baseball. Realize that dealing with what I’ve had to deal with in the past several months was both unusual to begin with (some of it) but also totally foreign to me. My older boys didn’t have activities that involved any politics at all. The only area where politics arise that I’ve encountered is in play tryouts, but I understand that all too well. The type of stuff my older boys were into was not competitive, not in fifth grade, at least. My middle son played clarinet, and any kid who wanted to play an instrument could play in the band; any kid who was interested and willing got a solo or small group piece.
My oldest plays piano and there was a competition in that…but only among advanced students. The only politics involved in that concerned who played last in the concert performed by the winners. And while it could have been argued that my son should have played last, we could see how it could be argued that the person who did play last should have. In any case, it’s an honor that only a few people know or care about (and we knew, but didn’t especially care)—nothing to get worked up about.
This is why I’ve not dealt well with the baseball situation. I feel adrift and a bit moronic. The only thing I am learnng is to keep my mouth shut, and it should be obvious that that is quite difficult for me, especially when I feel something. I am working on it, is all I can say. And that I regret getting too tied up with it last week and being careless.
In any case, Monday will feature the last bit about obsession with baseball for a while. It’s true: I have Monday’s post nearly written, and it’s called Love and Baseball. After that, I’m done. Until the next crisis.
I know we had two big deaths yesterday (everyone says these things come in threes, but…really? Ed MacMahon? You think he’s in the same league with Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson?), but I don’t have much to add to the discussion except the Michael Jackson thing is both shocking and enormously sad—not that he died, not that we’ve lost an artist (I don’t think he had much left to add), but that his life had become so strange and negative after a brilliant career. The thing that brought a tear to my eye was watching a clip from Thriller and seeing how normal he looked, how much pleasure he brought to the audience, and realizing this man died as an outcast, a punchline, and a bit of a freak. Sad end to a troubled life.
I guess it’s time to get my day started, which will involve making pancakes for my son and his friend who slept over. Here’s hoping for some clear skies in the northeast this weekend.
Enjoy whatever bits of sunshine you can grab, and thanks for reading.