'Tis the Season...for Baseball

While I'm not particularly a baseball fan, it was a part of my life when I was young.  How many of us can there be who don't recall the crack of a bat hitting a ball?  Or the feel of the hard, flat surface of a bleacher in the hot, afternoon or early evening sun?

One of my earliest memories is of my mother, sitting in the old (and I mean old) recliner, with a clipboard in her lap as she watched the World Series on the black & white TV, while she kept a detailed running score of the game.  I don't know what teams played in those games, but I know for most of my growing up years, I was a Roger Maris fan.  Mickey Mantle was a close second.  I also remember Sandy Koufax, Willie Mays, Johnny Bench, George Brett, Hank Aaron, Joe DiMaggio, and Don Drysdale.  Those were the days of baseball.  Of course there were hundreds more, but those were the ones I remember best.

My mom wasn't the only one who watched baseball.  We lived not far from Lawrence Stadium, now Lawrence-Dumont Stadium, which was built in 1934 and has been the home of the National Baseball Congress World Series since 1935.  On summer nights, my dad would attend games there.  My mom would take me, usually in my pajamas and very sleepy, to pick him up when the game was over.  Across the street from the ballpark was a Dairy Queen.  Not the fancy brazier kind there are not, but one where you walked up to the window and ordered.  My mom was a banana split person, and my dad usually ordered a sundae of some kind.  My favorite was a chocolate malt...that I rarely finished and was put in the freezer for the next day.  Frozen DQ chocolate malts are great!  The DQ has been gone for years, but I'm always reminded of it when we go watch my oldest granddaughter perform in the annual ice show or we go skating at the Ice Center (upper left of the stadium in photo), built in 1996.  I've had the pleasure of attending a few games at L-D Stadium over the past 20 years and enjoyed every minute, including the beer that was accidentally dumped down my back by a zealous fan. ;)

Childhood became teen years, and we'd moved to a small town.  I became a Dodger fan.  In fact, like former manager Tommy Lasorda, I've been known to bleed Dodger Blue.  Third baseman Ron Cey was my favorite during those years, but was closely followed by Steve Garvey, Don Sutton, and others.  If I still watched baseball, that would be my team, in spite of KC Royals being only 3 1/2 hours away.  I'll root for the Texas Rangers, too, just because.

When I finally grew up and became a real adult, I went to slow pitch softball games, usually two to three games a week and several weekend tournaments, for most of 20+ years.  I learned to keep score and swore that my backside had to have been as flat as the bleachers I sat on, game after game after game.  There were lots of bleacher tans: shoulders and arms, upper chest and back, and tops of thighs and feet, not to mention my scalp if there was a part in my hair.  I made friends with the wives and girlfriends of players and enjoyed spending time with them on the bleachers.  I learned the rules of baseball and softball, not by playing, but by watching, listening and cheering on the team.  And, oh, the stories I have of those crazy times.  If I had to choose between watching softball or baseball, I'd choose softball in a heartbeat, even in spite of Maris, Koufax and Cey. ;)

So here's my salute to baseball and the boys of summer, complete with a super, upbeat tune and old-time photos that bring back those childhood memories.  Thank you, John Fogarty!

Baseball is the only place in life where a sacrifice is really appreciated.  ~ Author Unknown

PLAY BALL!!! 

Who'll Stop the Rain?

Yes, I'm a Credence Fan.  No, this is not about CCR.  This is about the rain that has been coming down since late Sunday.

Oscar Wilde once said, "Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative."  My response to that?  Oscar had his own set of problems. ;)

Normally, rain doesn't bother me.  I rarely see the need for an umbrella or raincoat or slicker of any kind.  Getting a little damp from raindrops doesn't spoil my day.

We need rain now and then to settle the Kansas dust.  And I'm sure that sometime mid-July or August, we'll be wishing it would rain.  But 4+ days of it?  Isn't that a bit of overkill?

And just why did this sudden drenching of our area have to happen during Spring Break?  It's too cold and icky to send kids out to play.  Mud brown would be the color of the day...all week.  Then there's the risk of them getting totally drenched and coming down with this season's worst bug, just in time for break to be over.  That would be punishing me, because guess whose house they'd be sent to when they're too sick to go to school?  Yeah, that's right.  If truth be told, five kids under the age of 10, cooped up in a small house for 4 days, is an invitation to bloodshed.  I'm just not sure whose blood will be shed first.

Let's face it, I wouldn't have survived the 40 days and 40 nights of the "Great Flood" of Bible lore.  After the first week, I'd have offed myself.  I probably wouldn't do well in Seattle, either, although it's on my Top 5 list of places where I'd consider living.  Still, I like a little rain, and after last summer's drought, it really would be nice to see the river at higher levels.  The wide expanse of sandbars is disturbing.  The benefits of rain, in addition to dust-settling, is nice, too.  Daffodils are in abundance, while the plethora of flowering Bradford Pear trees are breathtaking and something that usually don't happen for a few weeks farther into the year.  At least those things can be enjoyed.  This incessant rain can't.  I should be happy that it isn't snowing, because it's been known to do that...as much as 12 inches.  Ahhhhh, Spring!

Summer will soon be here--the temps did hit 80 before the sky decided to open up and drench us--and there's no doubt I'll complain about the hot weather then, just as much as I'm complaining about the rain now. Honestly, if I'd had the pleasure of just returning from a long vacation in Tahiti (does that still exist with that name?), I'd be jabbering on about the beach and the sun and the weather.  With my luck, it would be raining there, too.

Back to CCR and Who'll Stop the Rain...

Stay dry!  Stay warm!  And wait out whatever weather has befallen you.  It'll change.  On that we can count. :)

Bad weather always looks worse through a window. ~ Tom Lehrer

Just So No One Forgets...

MARCH 8

CELEBRATE WOMEN!

A woman cannot be herself in the society of the present day, which is an exclusively masculine society, with laws framed by men and with a judicial system that judges feminine conduct from a masculine point of view.

HENRIK IBSEN, From Ibsen's Workshop

Keepsakes and Memories

In Memory of Davy Jones and those whose music became a major part of our lives in the 1960s.

Okay, I admit it.  I miss the '60s.  Anybody who paid attention or grew up in that decade of mind-blowing changes has to miss at least something about it.  Me?  I miss it all, even though admitting it makes me old.

Music, politics, the entire culture of the country was changed by those under 30.  Fathers complained about long-haired musicians in bands, and mothers feared what their daughters were doing when not under their watchful eyes.

I was ripe for the influence of those who were changing history.  From mid-grade school to high school graduation, I was a child of the '60s and experienced those changes, firsthand.  In fifth grade and barely into the decade, I remember spending time on the playground at school, listening to music on a transistor radio that broadcast AM radio stations.  Everyone was amazed that a radio could fit in a shirt pocket.  Now, our phones do.  As for music, we can download it to those phones, computers (which used to fill several rooms), and players made especially for listening.

My parents bought our first color TV in 1964.  Even my grown kids still have trouble imagining a world of B&W TV.  In '64, TV shows were just beginning to switch to color.  Bonanza was one of the first, and oh, the color of the green, green grass against the bright blue sky were amazing to see in our living rooms.  It was almost like being at the movies.

It wasn't only technology that had begun to change, but our way of life was changing in huge ways.

• The Berlin Wall was built to keep East Berliners from traveling West
• Martin Luther King began his work to bring segregation to an end
• The Space Race took off like a rocket (pardon the pun) and gave us not only the first humans in space, but the first man on the moon.
• We watched in horror as our President was gunned down before our eyes on TV.
• James Bond aka 007 brought us into the world of spies via movies and a hunk of a hero. ;)
• The Beatles took over music and brought about the British Invasion.
• Woodstock created a gathering place for half a million people to enjoy life and music.
• The Kansas City Chiefs and the Greenbay Packers played what was to become the first SuperBowl.
• Sesame Street was born to entertain and teach our children via TV.

Music changed in big ways.  Rock & Roll, which has roots in the late 1940s and early 1950s, exploded in the 1960s.  From Chuck Berry to the Beach Boys to the Beatles, Rolling Stones and thousands of others, music was our voice.  We identified ourselves by the music we listened to.  If not for the early pioneers of rock & roll and those who followed, music would not be the voice of youth and conscience that it is today.  

As the decade of the '60s began to come to a close, PEACE was on the lips and minds of every American.  From sit-ins and protests against war and segregation to the music that said it all, the end of the '60s ushered in a new beginning for many.

Those of us who lived during those years have memories that will never be forgotten, whether it was the music, the movies, the TV shows, technology, sports or how we spent our after-school time.  If, like me, you have special things that will live forever in your hearts, feel free to share them.  I'm sure they'll spark memories for others.

While doing a little research on my favorite decade, I discovered The 60s Official Site, a (new for me) website that has it all.  But before taking a stroll through memories of the decade, watch Vibration of a Nation, a terrific video on the same site that's more than worth the 25 minutes to watch.

Music is forever; music should grow and mature with you, following you right on up until you die. ~ Paul Simon

Give Me Liberty...or a Vacation

va·ca·tion   [vey-key-shuhn, vuh-]


noun
1.
a period of suspension of work, study, or other activity, usually used for rest, recreation, or travel; recess or holiday: Schoolchildren are on vacation now.


2.
something I haven't had for years and years.



Is there anyone that doesn't agree that we all need a little time off?  Certainly not me.  And make that a chunk of time off for me, because at this point in time, a "little" just isn't going to cut it.

You see, I haven't had a vacation---of any kind---since the summer of 2007, and even that wasn't a real vacation.  It was a working vacation.  I attended RWA's National Conference in Dallas.  Fun, yes, because I got to spend time with my friends.  But believe me, a lot has changed in five years.  I'd just sold and finished my first book for Harlequin American, and I've just contract to write books eight and nine.  No, working vacations, even when spent in the company of the best of friends, are not real vacations.

Even when I was married and especially AK (after kids), there weren't a lot of vacations.  For a few years, before the youngest of the four girls was born, we drove to Missouri and spent long weekends at my aunt and uncle's home on Table Rock Lake.  Two to three days of Silver Dollar City was fun, and the girls enjoyed it.  But staying with relatives and trying to keep 1-3 boisterous girls contained proved to be stressful and very UNvacation-like.


Then there were the then-hubby's softball tournaments that I --and sometimes the girls-- attended.  Vacations are not meant to be spent on hard, butt-numbing bleachers or being tied to a tight schedule of games-to-be-played.  In Savannah, Georgia, I put my foot down and insisted the girls and I visited the birthplace of Juliette Gordon Low, founder of the Girl Scouts in the U.S..  In Battle Creek, Michigan, we'd hoped to visit Kellogg's and watch cereal being made, but visitors were no longer allowed.  (Makes one wonder just what they put in those cereal boxes...)  And those were the only two national tournaments the whole family attended.  He said they were vacations.  Uh, no.

My last eight "vacations" haven't been.  Vacations, that is.  Something is wrong with this picture.  My oldest daughter works for Royal Caribbean.  Her working vacations are spent on cruises and in places like the Galapagos.  I've rarely managed to get out of the hotels, except to attend dinners with editors (somewhat stressful) and the always fun Harlequin parties.  But there have been times when I've tried to turn some of those working vacations into more fun than work.  In 2000, I took the Washington, DC metro---alone---to the Washington Mall to see the Vietnam Wall.  In 2003, a writer friend and I traipsed through NYC and I mastered the subway enough to get myself and even others to Ground Zero, the Harlequin offices, and yes, all the usual tourist-y spots, then back to my hotel...more than once.

So here I sit, with no chance of a vacation in sight.  Not this year, at least.  Whether it's time or money, it seems there's always something keeping me grounded.  If I could sprout wings...  Sadly, I can't. But I can DREAM, and if that's all I can do right now, then so be it.  I'll take that vacation...that dream vacation...in my mind.

Islands as yet unnamed in the Caribbean, here I come!  Greece, here I come!  Historical places, here I come!

What and where is your dream vacation?  If you could go anywhere and do anything, what would it be?

A vacation is having nothing to do and all day to do it in. - Robert Orben

I Wish I Had More Time To...Read

Let's face it.  I miss reading.

Ever since I was a small child, reading has been one of my favorite things to do.  Like breathing, I can't do without it.  But for the past few years, I haven't had as much time to read as I've had in the past.

Oh, I still read.  And my Kindle is loaded with books, just waiting for me to find some spare time.  I finally took the time to create categories for all my ebooks.  There are 16 of them.  Romance has the most, and Classics comes in at a close second.  That's just my Kindle and doesn't count the multiple bookcases I have or the boxes of book that are stored at my ex's farm. I even have a large box of books I've been carting around in the back of the trunk of my car for well over a year.  My plan was to take them to the Art Museum for the book fair at the annual river festival.  They still haven't made it there.

I'm a sucker for used book sales, no matter where.  I use the library, especially during the summer, when I take the grandkids each week.  I can spend hour upon hour in a bookstore, and would spend a fortune, if I had one.

But reading time is limited, what with my own writing, website design, family and friends.  I've tried to build in some reading time by leaving early to pick up my grandkids at school each weekday.  It gains me about twenty minutes, but that's really only enough to whet my appetite.  Sometimes, if I haven't had to stay up late working, I'll read in bed.  But too often, that leads to that drowsy feeling, and after reading the same paragraph more than three times, I know it's time to put book away.

Not only do I love to read, but I've tried to instill that same love of books in my children and grandchildren.  Not everyone is a reader, but I believe everyone can become one, if the right books are found to read.  And if reading is problem, there are always books on tape, so anyone can enjoy the world of words.

Maybe someday, when life slows down and there's time for the best things in life, I'll have the chance to read more.  Until then, I'll simply have to find a way to carve out another hour or two...or three or four...a day to enjoy my favorite pastime.  One can dream, right?

Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.  ~ Charles W. Eliot

Love is All You Need

All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt. - Charles M. Schulz

I'm cheating a little today.  I used the photo on the left on Bits & Bytes, my writers' group's blog, last week.  Why not?  I like it.  And since today is Valentine's Day and this is my blog, I get to choose. ;)

If honesty is the best policy, then I may be in trouble before the day is over.  You see, I don't put a lot of stock in the holiday being celebrated today.  Why do people need a specified day to say I love you?  Why must there be a holiday to give gifts of love?  Why should expressions of love--whether a whisper, candy, a kiss, dozens of roses, or precious jewels--be given on one day a year?  Shouldn't those be things that happen every day?  Okay, maybe not the dozens of roses, but the rest, for sure.

And another thing.  Why don't we have an I Love Me Day?  After all, one should learn to love oneself before setting out to shower it on others, right?  Or have I just become jaded over the years?

Maybe it's because I have a problem with expecting a gift on a day when not giving one is almost sinful that sours me on the holiday.  Thanks to the flower/candy/negligee/jewelry/greeting card and you-name-it industries that make a bundle on a day drenched in red hearts and mushy sentiments, women have come to expect gifts from the men--and others--in their lives.  (Not trying to be sexist, here.  The same holds true for same-sex couples.)  And men, bless their forgetful hearts, sometimes feel the obligation of going out and finding the gift to buy their way into the good graces of the women who truly love them anyway.

Now, someone out there will probably feel the need to point out that I'm probably this way because I've been soured by divorce and all the angst that accompanies it.  Uh, no.  I was soured before that happened.  Gifts given freely and from the heart are a treasure.  Gifts given because it's expected on Valentine's Day are nothing more than commercialism.

If you've managed to read this far without shouting expletives loud enough that the neighbors have alerted the police, calling me all sorts of names and sticking pins in a doll that mysteriously looks like me, or generally swearing never to read another word I've written, you'll realize that much of what's above is not about love, but about one day a year that's been set aside to make sure it's given the honor it deserves.  One day is not enough, folks.  Love isn't heart-shaped boxes full of calorie-ridden chocolate, flowers that the cat may eat, or a piece of jewelry given because it's expected.  Love is about caring enough about someone else to let them be who they are and loving them for it.  Love is being happy because someone else is happy.

I hope this Valentine's Day leaves you with, not only chocolate, flowers, or other glittering gifts, but a reminder that love really is all you need.

“When I say, "I love you," it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman.” Spike to Buffy (Joss Whedon)