Posted tagged ‘Detroit’

“(Baseball) is a game with a lot of waiting in it; it is a game with increasingly heightened anticipation of increasingly limited action”

October 12, 2013

The day is cloudy and fall cool. Later, I am going to put the storm door on the front. I hate to admit it, but the time has come. The days are only in the 60’s at best and the nights are even cooler. I put the comforter on my bed last night because I’ve been leaving the window open. The night air is sweet and still has a few summer sounds so I’ll enjoy it as long as I can.

The ALCS begins tonight. Our heroes play the kitties from Detroit. I get a chuckle out of some of the players on that team. Having an infielder named Fielder seems a bit much, especially a fielder of such girth. I always want to tell him to tuck in his shirt; slovenly is not fashionable even on the baseball field. What amazes me is that these two teams have never faced each other in a playoff but have played almost 2000 games against each other since the beginning of time. Fenway Park, voted the best park in baseball, was opened the same day and year as the Tiger’s park, now torn down. No sense of history in Detroit I suppose. I checked all the predictions and many favor the Kitties in a long series; the Sox are favored for a short series. That’s just the incentive the Sox need. Those bearded wonders love to beat the odds. After all, they came from last to first. Okay, I’ll admit Mr. V is the best pitcher, but the Sox got to him once and maybe are set to do it again. I wouldn’t bet against them. I suggest the Kitties adopt It’s Crying Time Again as their theme song. Go Red Sox!

My sister and I went to an Indian restaurant yesterday in Stoneham, where she still lives and where I grew up. The restaurant is at the site of what was The Children’s Corner. My sister’s memory of that is a bit hazy. She thought the store was in a different part of the square. Our table faced the street so I gave her a run-down of what used to be in the square. She was a bit amazed about the small restaurant, longer than it was wide, and the Spa with its lime rickeys, neither of which exist any more. She remembered Finnegan’s, a men’s store. Members of the same family were also morticians but out of the square, near all the churches. Later she went hunting on-line for a picture of the square and found one with the Children’s Corner and the old police booth. That was my up-town a long, long time ago.

“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear.”

April 12, 2012

Today is one of those days when I wish I lived in Victorian England and could languish on the chaise with a case of the vapors. I’d press the back of my hand against my forehead and sigh. It’s not that I feel bad today but I’m tired of neither days: neither sun nor rain. Today is such a day: cloudy yet again without the possibility of rain.

Yesterday was chore day, no wonder I want to languish. It was a trip to Boston for a doctor’s appointment, a change the bed, do the wash and hit the dump day. The dump was last, a half hour before it closed. I thought it would be empty, but there were so many cars I was thinking there must be prizes being given away but, alas, there were none. I even had to sit and wait for a place to park just to dump my trash.

I seem to have nothing on my mind today. No memories pop to the surface, and my life is quiet, almost routine. Even the birds are fewer at the feeders. A flicker, a goldfinch and a chipmunk have been my only visitors. The spawns of Satan have been missing of late so I haven’t even had the opportunity to rant. The chipmunk gave me a chuckle because it was dining on the squirrel buster but weighs too little to close the seed ports. I did shoo it away, and when I did, I noticed it had cheeks filled with seeds as if it had the mumps.

I watched an odd movie the other day, Vanishing on 7th Street. Almost the entire population of Detroit had disappeared and only their clothing, glasses and shoes were left, lying about where the people had been standing. The movie plays on fear of the darkness on what used to make us afraid to look under the bed. The darkness flows and surrounds the people who are left then they disappear and their clothes fall to the ground. Only light keeps the darkness at bay.

I like the feeling of being afraid but not for real. I want my fear manufactured by a scary movie or book. I never want to worry about what’s hiding in the closet or under the bed.


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