Click images for desktop size: "Pirates" I guess I'm getting old.
My memory of the distant past is growing sharper and more distinct. Good memories and bad. Like when I was four and my mother said I could buy a toy. (even today a reason to celebrate)
Suddenly a fellow was shouting that the store was closing in 5 minutes. Instead of being able to weigh and consider all that Woolworths had to offer I had to grab something quickly . . .
I'm getting old.
Wondering what coloration my mind has made to the past. I'm giving the past as much consideration as I usually give to the present.
I guess that's what it means to get old.

It looks like my search for a housemate is over. This fellow seems eager enough. I'm not thrilled about it. Not his fault at all. Its all to do with me.
My puppy and I like being to our own devices. We like getting things and putting them where we like them. Problem is can't afford the rent on our own and there is a room and a bathroom we never even think of entering. . . so, he's supposed to come by and give me money on Friday and then the rest of the money for the month on the Weds following.
Money.
Yeah, that's why I'm doing it.

Practice this morning was good. There were some lost eyes on the field but the focus stayed true. The goals are still there. Things were up tempo.
We talked about the World Series. I haven't had much interest in this series. I think the Cardinals are boring. I liked the Tigers but I have a hard time with American League teams as a rule. The DH rule. I like the Tigers young fireballers, and “Pudge” Rodriguez is one of the best catchers of all time. But last night got my interest rekindled. I loved the dirt ball fiasco.
While I don't think major league umpires can be fooled by an old fashioned mudball the mere concept of it has a poetry. Add to it the age of the pitcher and his incredible streak of 24 scoreless innings in the playoffs and series; it softens my heart and makes me yearn for beauty.

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