Spider Tack

 Major league baseball has had its share of controversies these last few decades. It seems now that the hitter's cheating with performance enhancing additives has now switched to the pitcher's mound. If you've never heard of 'spider tack', welcome to baseball today.

It was years ago (okay, showing my age) that pitchers used slick or oily substances to add to their grip. They hid it on their belts, caps, inside the glove, anywhere they thought it couldn't be found. The difference is what happens to the ball. With a slick side the ball comes off the hand differently and causes the ball to have a different flight pattern of curving, etc. Advantage, pitcher.

In today's game the opposite is the case. The 'stuff' of choice is called Spider Tack. It is a super sticky substance that allows a better grip on the baseball. It used to be few if any were able to throw a pitch 100+ miles per hour. So rare you could count the pitchers on a single hand over decades. Now, nearly every pitcher is in the high 90s or low 100s. Breaking balls that used to travel in the upper 80s to low 90s now come close to 100 mph. Randy Johnson and Nolan Ryan used to be special in their abilities. No longer, at least for the moment.

So what's the issue Robert? 

I'll tell you. 

This week a pitcher in the majors complained about how he wouldn't be able to throw the way he wanted to now. He would have to put the ball back deeper into his hand and that would affect his pitches. My response to him is, well, obviously you really never learned how to pitch. Pitching isn't only about throwing a ball past a hitter as hard as you can. He never learned to control the ball, never learned to paint the corners, never learned to change speeds, never developed an array of pitches. Some of the best pitchers I followed were masters of the art of pitching. In their youth they had strong arms with significant fast balls but knew how to 'pitch'. Among my favorites were Tom Seaver and Greg Maddux.

Sure, this pitcher is an athlete that can do something I could only covet, but my physical abilities do not compare to his. But the state of baseball is at stake currently. Hitting is at an all-time low and all that seems to happen in a game is either the ball goes out of the park or the hitter strikes out. That isn't much of a game to watch. Few steal bases these days and the strategy of baseball has all but vanished.

I'm fine with MLB policing the game to make it even for both pitcher and hitter but it's time to enforce the rules so baseball remains baseball and not a circus act.

Memorial Day

 For those who don't understand what this day means to this country, I hope this helps for it is the remembrance I hold.

I look above at the gray skies that have not yet fully seen the light of day. It is filled with death to our enemy as the shells from the fleet continue its bombardment of the shore. It is hours old yet still they rain down from the skies. I can only pray it has the effect we all hope for as our small craft chugs toward the shoreline.

I look around at the faces that stand beside me. There is no expression. Are we all the same, are we all resolute yet fearful as to what is about to happen to us? These boats that carry us forward seem nothing more than giant tubs that flail against the tides. The seas are heavy and we do whatever we can to stand. The closer we get the more they rise and fall to the power of the ocean. My stomach long ago relieved itself of what little breakfast I had. And I am not the only one. The sea that lurches above us and drenches us with its cold hand adds to the slickness of the deck. We are nearly piled on top of each other.

We have been given the order and I feel the grip of fear rise within me. I am shaking like never before. I have never been so afraid in my life yet for some reason fierce in my determination to fulfill my duty. It is what I must do; it is what we all must do. That is why we are here. There has been no attempt to hide from us what we will face yet it seems so more real now that I ever could have imagined.

The horn sounds and the door drops as our lander slams to a halt into the sands. The sea rushes in as we hear the stinging pelts of bullets pepper the metal around us. We rush forward with the screams of warriors, the rifles of the first rows of my brothers attempting to answer the enemy but they are little more than the sting of a bee against the onslaught.

I push forward behind the backs of my brethren and I am aghast at what has befallen them. Our first wave lays dead or screaming in agony in the sea, now stained red by the blood of hundreds. I charge forward now silent as I struggle to survive. My weapon is nothing more than a crutch to help me get to the next barricade. These few seconds off the boat are a lifetime as time stands still, a new reality that is a soldier’s fate; my fate. As I surge forward I am dropped into the muddy surf as something slams into my legs. I roll to push it away and am wide-eyed as I realize it is what is left of my bunkmate from our quarters. My voice screams into the heavens only to be lost to the sounds of the rockets still streaming overhead. They have done little to soften the blow.

My rage begins to build and I will not let the fate that has come to my brothers come to me. Now free, I turn and lay on my stomach and fire blindly onto the shore as the returning surf blows back across my face stinging my eyes. I feel the salt enter a bloody wound on my arm, a gash torn into my flesh I did not know was there. My anger builds and it is the first time I have returned fire in anger. I push forward and fall again as another from behind falls on top of me. Another casualty that has come from my boat, another call to me to push forward.

At last I am able to rise to my feet and run; run to survive; run to live and face another day. As I dive forward my back comes to rest against a barricade of wood and steel spikes that have been driven into the shifting sands. It is my refuge this moment as I look out to where I have come from. Before me the world is filled with ships and hosts of men rallying to me. I look down and see now a bloody rip in my trousers as the salt and sand continue to pour across my body. But it is not time for me to rest. It is not time to fall. I look around and the sands are strewn with death, the lifeless bodies of those now torn beyond recognition at the barbarity of this day.

I breathe deeply and take measure of myself for this is my fate, for I have chosen it. I surge forward with those that now overtake me. It is a day I hope to remember if I live through it, yet still forget.

 

Now, what seems a lifetime ago for it is in years and also memories, I stand here in remembrance, looking out across the shore where my life nearly ended all those decades ago. This ground is nearly sacred to me and I remember those I stood beside and those I lost on that day. I may never again see this sight as my world slowly comes to an end and I will likely not see this day again in my lifetime, for there are few of us left. My only prayer is there will remain someone to remember me, to remember them and all that we fought for.

This day is a remembrance for the fallen that we may live in peace.

The way it was

 There has been a continual argument for much of the past several years about how many who reside in this country would like to to return to a simpler time. Some use the mantra, make American great again, or MAGA. The fighting that has become of this has torn this country apart.

Here's my take on this and what it means to me, and I think many others.

There are plenty of sins hidden in the past of every country that was ever on the face of the earth. The US is no exception. Some of it is the fault of everyday people and some of the issues are the direct result of the government. Those are the things that we should all look back on with utter disdain. There is no reason to treat someone poorly because of the color of their skin. These things should never be gone back to.

What I would like to return to is simple. Gone are the days when little boys had paper routes. They were up in the morning or waiting in the paper shack after school waiting for the truck to come so they could do their work. You opened the door and gave them a couple bucks for payment. Now, it is an adult hired out.

Those same kids earned money in the neighborhood because they cut grass, or they shoveled snow, or they raked the leaves of the neighbors. That doesn't happen any longer.

We used to ride our bikes miles away from home without adult supervision. My friends and I were out all day and we went home when we knew dinner was nearly on the table. You can't do that now either.

It seems too that the days of kids playing on the court or football in the grassy lot a few blocks over without adult supervision is a thing of the past. We would play ball and my brother and I would end our part of the game when my mother walked out onto the back porch and literally rang a bell. Every kid in the neighborhood knew what that meant for us.

Perhaps it is just the fancy of a man who is aging and remembers what it was like in the days of his youth when the future didn't involve a world outside his neighborhood, or the next neighborhood over. These are the times many of us want to return to; feel the pull that we as adults could leave our children and our grandchildren. With all its flaws and imperfections, that is the world we long for.

One of my best friends was a black boy who to this day I call a friend. Though miles and almost two states apart, I could sit down with him today and have a conversation with him like we saw each other last week. I last saw him over twenty years ago and I remember his smile. It was a smile that captivated a room. He didn't care I was white and I didn't care he was black. 

I'll bet he still has that smile.

Renewal

 Spring has sprung, the grass has riz

Does anybody know where the birdies is.

This is a little ditty My Beloved always says. Yes, the corner has been turned and the seasons change. Spring is not just upon us but it is officially here.

I have been away from this blog for a time and as life has settled down, I hope to be writing more on here, not that I get many readers, but that was never the point of this page.

Life has indeed changed for many of us over the last year. It has for me as well but likely not as many would believe. My work has changed which has been the biggest veer in my life. It is still retail but it is like a coming home. Running a hardware store is probably the job I was meant to do in life in this profession. It is something that lets me help others on a daily basis. Often it is the little things that create a barrier to moving forward. It's the sink that doesn't work, the door that won't close. These may seem trivial but they are stumbling blocks for many.

I took last year away from writing. I did not work on a book for the first time in over twenty years. It was time to step away. It wasn't so much that I didn't have a story to write, it was that it was becoming a chore and not a desire. No matter what one loves, it can become more of a burden at times. That is not why I write. I didn't start out to sell a ton of books, not that there's anything wrong with that, but along the way the aspect of becoming a thriving writer becomes a chore. (I've used that word before here). There is more to the process than writing. It is a business, and if you want to do it full time, you have to treat it as such. Stepping away has let me put many of those burdens behind and pick up the pen with a sense of renewal. (See what I did there?)

This past year has also let me take a closer look at the world around me both from a personal and national perspective. To be honest, I don't like a lot of what I see. The country has become so partisan and judgemental. People are hyper-critical and seem to have no qualms about tearing others down whether it is in person or on social media. This year has let me learn to listen more to other's view and take it into consideration, however that doesn't mean I will always agree. What it does mean is I will let you have your opinion. Just don't force it on me. I have no problem standing up for myself.

I hope this first full Sunday of spring brings you warmth and sunshine, and gives you  time to look forward to a brighter year and put all the pandemic strife behind.

Twilight before Tomorrow

 A little something I penned a couple years ago for the Christmas season. I hope you enjoy it.

Twilight before tomorrow

 

I watch as the sun sets, its rays slipping below the horizon. My abode, silently lingers on the threshold of tomorrow. I feel the heat lapping from the hearth, tickling the stockings hanging by a cut nail in the mortar.

Above, I hear the slumber of young ones, tucked tightly beneath a winter's blanket to fend off the cold. I long for the call of a pillow, soft as new-fallen snow and I slide between linens cool to the touch. I snuggle close and inhale the breath of My Beloved as she nestles deep within her comforter.

Before I am able to surrender to night's lament, an unnatural call beckons from beyond my wall of solitude and my curiosity is bent upon exploration. My eyes behold the solitude of a pristine world caressed by the kiss of a winter's moon. The crescent light reveals a tiny traveler whose cherub face sings to his herd in the silent world.

His flight of fancy screams skyward, rocketing above the fold in which I am now embraced. My eyes, once tired and dreary widen to embrace the magic of his world. I fall back onto my bed as the sounds above me tap their way across my rooftop. I am aghast.

As quick as a dart, I dash from my room toward the halls below. My thoughts outpace me as I scamper down the stair, the rails aglow, polished by the light dancing from the chimney. I stop and stare in amazement as my visitor steps cleanly across the hearth, its bricks laden with fresh-cut wood, his cloak awash in pillows of soot.

His thick hand straightens his cap as he turns, his eye inspecting the table for his work this night. His cheeks are alight with a thousand years of joy as he slings his pack to the floor, its contents now a torrent of treasure awash across the worn, broad planks. The sparkle of wrapping and bows, enlivens my soul.

My chuckle slips to his ear as he turns and winks, his nod an acknowledgement of the secret we shall both keep this night, a night that lifts my heart to the heavens. He is gone in the blink of an eye and I am left with only the crackling flames dancing upon the logs on this winter's night.

 

"Twas the Night Before Christmas"

 

Merry Christmas to one and all.

Yes Virginia...

 Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

This could be one of the most famous lines ever printed in a US newspaper dating back to 1897 and the New York Sun newspaper. It is also suggested this editorial is the most widely read piece in newspaper history.

It might be, but here's my take.

Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

Even in this year of civil unrest and upheaval, when those who do not know each other except on social media challenge each other's versions of right and wrong, I believe there is still an underlying truth that mankind in all its wisdom is but a child looking for its own truth.

Men are frail and insecure. We tease, fight and love with the same individuals we call sister and brother, mother and father from our birth to our deaths. Within that lifetime we strive to find ourselves as we reach out into the world around us and for some, into the cosmos. We are but a speck in a universe we do not understand, living on a blue, reflecting point of light in an immense expanse.

So what is this Santa Claus, this legend of the north blanketed in a world of cold and white? To me it is simple. He is light, and more than anything else he is hope; hope in the goodness of mankind that even through all the trials and faults we have we will always strive to see the goodness in ourselves as a people. The man on the street who gives his shoes to someone without; the woman who gives her heart to a child who knows only sadness; the unemployed father who hands the last five dollars in his wallet to someone standing on a corner; these are what that hope becomes as manifested in the hearts of those who believe, who believe in the spirit of hope and love.

For you see Virginia, each of us in some way is Santa Claus. We may not be able to show it each day of our lives but at some point, each of us will become a Santa Claus to another and give the gift of hope to someone who is on the brink, for Santa Claus lives deep within us all, even you, and you will find him when you need him most.

What's America about

 It has been some time since I've rambled on this blog, mid-summer actually, and I apologize for my absence. 

With all this election stuff pervading every nook and cranny of our lives, the thought crossed my mind today about what this country is all about and who understands it. Now, this is my belief in what we are or what we should be. Your view may be different to some extent but I'll wager they are similar enough, no matter if you call yourself a Republican, Democrat, Libertarian or something else...here goes.

This country was founded on the principles of self determination. A group molds together to form a government to rule for the common good. The government is to represent and protect the interest of the people.

Self-Determination is a process that is built upon these 5 principles:

• FREEDOM. To decide how one wants to live their life.
• AUTHORITY. Over a targeted amount of dollars.
• SUPPORT. To organize resources in ways that are life enhancing and meaningful to the individual.
• RESPONSIBILITY. ...
• CONFIRMATION.

What this government is not required to do is be the answer to everyone's personal problems in life. As you read down this list of five items, as taken from the internet, the fourth is responsibility. What is severely lacking in these times is personal responsibility. The role of the government is to provide a level playing field as best as it is able for all of its citizens. It is not to be the hand-out king to provide for every want and need of every citizen. 

 I have no issue with those who want our government to have a safety net for those who are unable to provide for themselves; the elderly, children and those who have special needs due to circumstances beyond their control such as those born with mental disabilities. The world isn't fair; life isn't fair. I face different challenges as a white male born into a lower-middle class family in the Midwest than say a Black man who was born into poverty in Detroit. He most certainly faces different challenges to get though life than I do, but I face challenges he does not. 

What I do not accept are those who point only to their circumstances as a reason for their lot in life; it's not my fault mentality. That's a cop-out. Too many people have climbed out of their holes in life to become doctors, lawyers, bankers, elected officials, scientists, et al. Being successful doesn't mean you have to become a millionaire. In my mind who is successful is someone, man or woman who has provided for their family to the best of their ability, has strived to do it the right way and can hold their head up and be proud.

Unfortunately we have fallen prey to our own elected officials who have put their self-preservation above the national interests. This election year of 2020 is proof of that to the nth degree. Now politics has always seemed to be a dirty business when you peel back the carpet and let the light of day shine. It was in the beginning of this country, and it is now. 

There is little to no bipartisan work done between parties that genuinely benefits the people of this nation. It is simply one news-tweet squabble after another plastered across whatever screen you choose to use to view it. If the 'D' party says one thing the 'R' party says the exact opposite and the fighting begins. Gone is a spirit of cooperation to resolve anything that is important. As a country, we should not be at each other's throats but at the throats of our elected officials who have put us on the back burner.

Go to the polls this coming month and vote. Vote not only for the candidate(s) you think will benefit the country as a whole but may also begin to work for us and not for themselves. At some point I was about to give up hope that I would want to vote for any of these people. But then, I looked at my grandson and knew in my heart I couldn't do that to him. He knows nothing of this but it affects his world for my world is coming to a close. 

I know who I will be voting for. I hope you do too.