I get knocked down

Good morning! It's a cold one here as we got out of bed early to bring Diva to the groomers. Let me say that she was not pleased. It was so cold in the house (61 degrees) that I finally caved in and turned the heat on without changing the filter. And so, before picking up the dog, I have to run to Home Depot and look like I know what I am doing. I wrote the name of the heating units on a paper so that I can memorize it on the way. Then I will look the sales person in the eye and give him the wrong information and naturally, buy the wrong filters. This is a first for me, so I am a bit nervous. Why? Well, my heating guys retired in April and I admit that I am helpless without them. I also feel like I would be cheating on them by hiring someone else. Also, and this is really demented, I am mourning their retirement. I could count on these guys day and night to fix our issues. In fact, one late Saturday night, one of the brothers came to the house because he wanted us to have heat. Such a nice guy...I hope that they are sitting on the beach with a margarita and looking back on how much money I put into their pockets. Perhaps they are smiling...maybe not, 'cause one of the bros was nipped by Diva....yeah, I know...a 7 pound menace....



On to Big M....he's amazing. Less than one week out of the hospital, he is out running errands and working on the big homecoming celebration. Yesterday, I had the honor of being his chauffeur. As we chatted over coffee in the car, he had a list of places to go. Nothing on the list was for him. It was all for the homecoming ceremony and reception. This is why he has to battle this cancer...Big Sis and family needs him...I need him....his alma maters need him....the world needs him. Always giving and caring about others.....

How is the big leftie? Hmmm....he aced the finance test and did well in his Spanish test. Yahoo! My boy could actually be a college graduate come the spring. That's right....a BA in something that will get him somewhere....right?



As far as baseball is concerned, he is happy today...He has found his rhythm by singing a Chumba Wumba song in his head as he throws. The beat is perfect for his delivery and so, he sings the song and throws. As the coach stood by him, he asked what he was muttering as he threw....as he told him about the song, the coach exclaimed: "You are one weird $%#((*#!"

Weird?! I will tell you how weird he is....in my tennis days (sorry....fade to BPM history book, chapter 11.....), I would play singles and hit the ball back and forth for hours....until my opponent would drop. What would I be thinking in my head? Uh, nothing....that's right, 'cause I was singing a song that I would hear on the radio right before the match. It could be anything from a Beatles song "Help!" to Hermit Hermits "Something tells me I'm into something good...." I never had the right words, but I had the melody and wrong words and would sing, hit, sing, hit, sing....sip water....sing....hit....I had a great singles record because I could go all day. I had a friend with whom I would hit with to practice. During one practice session, we hit the ball back and forth 500 times (I counted) without missing.


It was a good exercise and taught me that I had to outlast my opponent since I really did not have the talent to defeat the person in less than an hour. And so, I would hit the ball until she would drop over from exhaustion and head home.

    

Now that my kid is using this tactic, I find nothing wrong with it. Rather, I applaud him....Chubba Wubba....the words are appropriate for him too...."I get knocked down, but I get up again...." That's him...knocked down by life and baseball....but he is like a weebil....he gets up and up and up. Now that is what I call a winnnnerrrr! Not a weird @#%#^^.....

One last note....no one can call my kid weird ever....only me...and he's not....crazy coach...watch your language...didn't your momma teach you not to cus?



Dang....got to go and figure out this filter thingamajing.....

Shalom!