I’m done. Had it. Enough already with all the political drama, with all the unrest, with all the nastiness and rage. It’s everywhere and I can’t stand it for another second. It feels like I’m caught in an abyss from which I’ll never escape.
For the last three days I tried to come up with an idea for today’s blog post. Nada. Nothing. Zip. Zero. Blank. Empty. And you know why? Because I’ve been so caught up in all the bullshit of the U.S. election for the past 20+ months, I can think of little else.
Sick is what it is. Sick and sad. And I’m tired of it.
So in an effort to drag myself out of this pit of despair the whole world seems to be in 24/7 I am concentrating only on things that make me smile. Make me happy. Are pleasing and pleasant. Come with wonderful memories.
For inspiration, I’m turning to the 8,500+ photographs in my digital files.
Like, for example, this pic — of the baseball. It’s no ordinary baseball. It was given to me by Roberto Clemente, the right fielder who is, and always will be, one of the sport’s all time greats.
It happened back when I was still living in Montreal, when the Expos still existed, before the Olympic Stadium — way back, when they played at Jarry Park. Won’t bore you with all the details, suffice to say, I was there on a bright and sunny September Sunday with my friend, Marilyn, sitting a few rows up from the visiting team’s dugout. Yeah, we had great seats!
The guy beside me nudged me in the ribs and handed me a note. It was from the great one himself, asking for my name. I thought it was a joke, but Marilyn handed me a pen. Next thing I knew this baseball was being passed to me.
To make a long story short, we sort of became friends. Short-lived unfortunately because later that year, on his way to a mercy mission in Nicaragua, he was killed in a plane crash.
But this was still September and there were a couple of games left in the season; and, believe it or not, the next time the Pittsburgh Pirates were in town, yours truly picked him up at the airport. Him and a couple of his team mates — Manny Sanguillen and Dock Ellis. No word of a lie.
Yes, I still have the baseball.