Reboot The Day

Had one of those moments today, where while at work and tired of listening to all the complaining from different sides and different viewpoints, I just retreated to a quiet spot for ten minutes of solitude. Sometimes you just have to step back, reboot and start over. And remind yourself that if the headaches persist, there's still a bunch of vacation time to use.

Yankee Notes

I'm tentatively excited for the moment about this year's Yankee's!! They're showing something that I havn't seen in awhile ..... An ability to hit with runners on base. They are not solely home run reliant.

A name (Yankees) seems to go a long way. Of their nineteen games to date, approximately fifteen have been televised into my living room.

The relief pitching looks to be pretty much lockdown. The starters have been a little shaky but have mixed in a few dominating performances. Girardi always worries me with how he uses the bullpen. But he and his coaches know more about pitching than I do. I just worry that he goes to the bullpen too soon in games and ends up using the entire pen too often.

There's only a couple of guys that will steal a base (Gardner and Ellsbury) but if they continue to hit in clutch situations maybe the lack of speed won't be a huge issue.

The roster is loaded with 30-somethings. Hopefully injuries won't be like an epidemic. So far, so good.

The Cold

This must be one of those colds that just hangs on awhile.

Joe from work, who I suspect that I caught it from, said that it stayed with him for three weeks. I'm currently in the middle of week two. It's not a full blown cold (I'm past that I hope) but it's where you can just "feel" beyond the nagging cough, that things aren't completely back to normal. Something I can hear when I inhale. And a feeling that my temperature has been at 98.7 and holding for the last few days. And though not sore, an odd taste in my throat. There's a sense that I could go back the other way tomorrow. Like it's playing with me, telling me not to get too comfortable.

I feel the need to get out and about and participate in life but after a half hour or so, I'm ready to go back home. I'm walking around slowly, slower than normal, which means that I'm at 105-year-old-man pace. Maybe I need an attitude adjustment and to just suck it up, get manic and sweat it out?

Return Of The Taxman

It was a pleasant feeling. That of the no evening, waning moments, deadline beating rush to the post office ..... Taxes completed yesterday, a day ahead of time. Might be a first for me. I've said this before but it's funny how if you called me up and told me that you had a pile of cash waiting for me, the amount equal to my tax refund, I'd be there in ten minutes to pick it up. But with my taxes, I'm apparently willing to wait four and a half months to claim and grab that money. That's how much I despise sitting down with paperwork or answering questions online.

And in a drastic change of attitude, I decided this year to opt for direct deposit. The thing that I feared, giving my personal information out to someone else, well they (the taxman) already have it anyway. So I was kind of expecting to see my bank account balance go up ten minutes later but I guess that it doesn't work quite that quickly.

I can't imagine what the process is like for the normal person with the normal type of lifestyle ..... Houses, deductions, stocks, kids, etcetera.

What If The Baseball Schedule Makers Mapped Out a Season With NO Yankees - Red Sox Games?

Yankees and Red Sox, the second series of the season just doesn't seem right. The usual angst is absent. There's too many new players on each team. Time is needed to let things simmer, bubble and build up. Maybe they shouldn't cross paths until June? Though going extra innings on a Friday (beginning the 13th inning as I type) and using up both bullpens, could make for a little more hitting over the rest of the weekend.

Of course this opinion is formed from my leather chair viewing position, 3000 miles away.

It's been my experience in life (or at least the last ten years) that these close games in Yankee Stadium  usually end with the Red Sox winning and me wondering why I sat through that hell for four or more hours? Especially true after the Yankees tie the game with a two-out homer in the bottom of the ninth like is the case tonight.

15th inning now. At least I'm getting my moneys worth on the FREE "MLB Extra Innings" Network preview weekend.

You know it's getting bad when the 15th inning ends as you have your head turned away from the television screen and you suddenly hear a crack of the bat that sounds like solid contact and it's just a weak pop-up to center field.

So it went 19 innings and to add to my frustration. The Red Sox twice took the lead and the Yankees tied it each time during the extra frames but couldn't end it. I was at the point where I just wanted the game to be over, not caring who won. There was also a twenty minute delay when some stadium lights went out. And of course, the Yankees ended up losing.

Attempts At Poetry

I make attempts at poetry. But I'm not what you would call prolific. I struggle with completing each attempt .... with words and lines, do they make sense? Is it finished yet? Do I have more to say? Did I say too much? Is it crap? If I try to do too much at once, I begin thinking that it's all self absorbed shit. Or that I'm just repeating myself. I worry that my vocabulary is too limited. I worry that my voice, my thoughts, wouldn't stand up well compared to those of a 8th grader. I wonder if my words are a boatload of gibberish? If they hint at insanity or a cluttered mind ..... or just really bad, or at the best, mediocre combinations of words? But I go on. Once in a great while I think that three or four of my words used together are brilliant and that I don't care what anyone else thinks. I don't think that lines have to rhyme. (Mine rarely do.) They only have to pour out of a conciousness. I remind myself that it only has to make sense to me. I eventually decide that an attempt is finished ..... though I've been known to change a word or two a year later. Or add a couple lines. I've written about people who have no idea that they were the subject. It's most often someone that I know or had some sort of encounter with but could be a stranger or even a work of fiction. I want to share with others but I'm afraid to share with others. I occasionally think: "What if I'm one of those poets whose body of work gets discovered fifty years after I die? What if they say I was great ..... a brooding, sensitive genius?" (I highly doubt that last question but just what if .......) What if they laugh and say that I sucked? I'd probably roll over in my grave.

Evening Stroll

Not dark yet. An evening stroll in a rose garden to be. A few buds beginning to take their place among the thorns. Everything damp from a passing Spring shower a few minutes earlier. I'm fine with all early evenings being a little cool and damp. It's an exhilarating feeling when it's passed. A feel of life on hold, reappearing and resuming!!

How did all the various flowers decide on their time and place to bloom? Cherry blossoms, tulips, roses, etc., They all have their chosen or assigned moments. Careful not to overlap.