Drooling on the Pillow

Sunday, November 21, 2004


When I was a kid in Tarentum, PA there was a yard we'd cut through just to get yelled at. We'd get half-way to the back yard and the old guy would come out with whatever was near him -- a baseball bat, a curtain rod, a colander -- and start sputtering and swearing at us. He was very old and only marginally mobile so we were in no danger. It was the swearing that was the point, of course. He had almost certainly been in the service (I'm talking WWI) and I'm guessing the navy. Blankety-blank blank for five or ten minutes and then he would go inside to call the cops and we would move on.

Then we'd go to our fort and discuss the possible meanings of some of the words we'd heard. Some of our misapprehensions probably persist to this day.

My point is, some days I feel thisclose to turning into that guy. Before I had my knee replaced last year I had the realization that most of the nasty old geezers I ran into as a kid were probably just in pain all the time. The Hospital for Special Surgery wasn't an option. I'm not a veteran, but I am getting older and more and more days I wake up feeling a little tetchy.

Which may explain something that I noticed yesterday. In just about every game that I was following I was rooting for someone to lose.

I have no interest in Ohio State, but I was hoping they would win because I always like to see Michigan lose. Same with USC, Florida State and several others. I really would trade a loss by one of these teams for a win by Pitt. This isn't an underdog thing, obviously, because I'm a Yankee fan but there are certain teams I just don't like and I can't tell you why.

Somebody send me a Care Bear. I'm turning into the Old Guy on the Porch.
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