Category Archives: Miscellaneous

Disappointment on Father’s Day

Al Bundy’s greatest moment was scoring four touchdowns in a high school football game. I didn’t join the reunion for the Cape May Tornadoes. Living on past laurels isn’t my thing . . . so I say.

But here we were watching The Irishman. Great Father’s Day movie. When they flashed that Angelo Bruno was killed in Philadelphia in 1980, I mentioned that I remembered the photograph from the newspaper of that.

Then I did my Al Bundy. In 2000, I think, the Franklin Institute took me to dinner at an Italian restaurant in South Philly. Parking was a pain there. I had a spot right outside, however. As I got out, a vehicle arrived. Out came Joey Merlino and a couple young, hot women. I went into the restaurant and sat at our table. A little bit later, Merlino and the ladies came into the restaurant and were escorted to a back dining room.

Yeah, I told this story to my son to impress him, I suppose. Yup, I’m connected somehow. Pathetic!

Reasons for Decisions

Angels vs. Phillies Scorecard

On Friday, the children and I attended a Phillies game. As I prepared for the outing, I considered scoring the game. I like scoring baseball games. But scoring games requires stuff. I am loathe to carry stuff.

Beetle gave me a scorebook. She had mentioned we could all score the game on the books (she and Joey have them too). I pulled out the book. Very small type . . . in blue ink. I can barely see what I am to fill in. It’s a new scorebook for me, so I am not familiar with it.

I like using my own scorecards. In the old days, I had a folder taped to my clipboard for extra inning cards. When I attempted to re-create that when I moved to the apartment, it didn’t work. 🙁 I used a plastic insert to it instead. While that worked, it was larger than the clipboard. I didn’t like that. I dismantled it. Now that I was going to a game, I wouldn’t be prepared.

I decided not to score the game.

As we headed in Beetle mentioned we should get a scorecard. Really? I bought two. That’s $6. I scored the game. As expected, Beetle abandoned scoring the game.

Things would have been better if I had brought my clipboard.

Why did I go the route I did?

Everything Requires a Screen

Admittedly, I am bored.

Everything I do requires a screen. Whether I watch television, blog, research recipes, etc., I am beholden to a screen. Even if I were to go out geocaching, there’s a screen involved.

Reading? There’s a screen.

The house is clean, the laundry is done, and the bathroom is scrubbed. Those are my non-screen activities.

Time to pull out a game . . .


Being public employee is less than satisfying. As a colleague once stated, “We enter the building wondering what we will be blamed for today.” I understand the sentiment.

Knowing that administration has no problems using children as spies in the classroom, I noted that a student who is usually either absent or late was actually on time yesterday. As soon as I came to that realization, she was summoned to the office. Interestingly, at the end of the day she was also summoned. Nothing has been said to me (yet), but I am wary.

Whether or not I will be chastised for some perceived sleight is yet to be determined. The effect is the same either way. I am on edge whether this involves me or not. Not having done anything doesn’t relieve the stress as a recent lecture of 25 minutes for something that the vice principal said did not happen and how children make up stuff all the time showed.

So, I left work disgruntled. Went to the doctor. She sent me on my way noting I should pick up an over-the-counter item. I went to get that at Acme. I could not find it. I went to customer service for help. Yeah, no help. The lady said it should be a certain aisle. I mentioned I had looked there but didn’t see it. She wasn’t about to walk with me to find the item. I looked again and again could not find it. I left.

Now I was frustrated. I decided that despite my intention to have a Delmonico this evening, I would just pick up Burger King since it was right there. I sat at the speaker for three minutes before I drove off.

At each stage of my afternoon, I felt more and more knotted.

I decided to hit the Rite Aid near my home so to keep from picking up pizza to soothe me. Yup, the Rite Aid at Corson Park is now closed Splendid!

Drove into town to the other Rite Aid. Got what I needed . . . plus two candy bars. Somehow I felt entitled to sweets to ease my discomfort.

I did eat that Delmonico. I did calm down and went to sleep. I did wake up very early today. I suspect underlying all this is trepidation on going to work and being hauled into the administrator’s office and being told about my tone, or something I have said, etc.

Not enjoying work these days.

But the real question: why do I get worked up over things I have no control over? And why do I give in to the candy to ease my stress?

Look At Me, Look At Me

The 1970s was dubbed as the Me decade. That is the decade I grew up in. There were things we did as children that were designed to draw attention to ourselves.

I hang with children daily. The Look At Me syndrome is on steroids these days.

Children are no longer humble in the presence of adults. Students constantly tell me how awesome they are. While cute, it is disturbing as well.

I watched one of my students’ baseball games last week. Another player on his team caught a line drive. Given how the team was playing, that it was caught was indeed approaching miraculous. The celebration that occurred after the catch rivaled winning the Super Bowl. I was reminded of Joe Paterno’s mantra, “Act like you done this before.” He did not.

I attended another game last evening of a different student. He had told me he was #9. There was no #9, so I thought he was riding the bench. As I got acclimated, I watched #1 bat. He struck out. Afterward, #1 pounded the plate, stomped off, cried, and otherwise showed up the ump. He should have been ejected right then. #1 then took the field. He was still pouting. Turns out #1 was my student.

Later, when he saw me he was all smiles and was showboating in the field. Despite that, he missed a ball and thre wildly home on a play. But he showed his swagger after each inning.

Children are no longer seen and not heard. That may be good in some respects, but in the respect department, it is sad.


“For after all, the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, The Poet’s Tale

For much of my adult life I believe I searched for ways in which to control my world. I have been demanding in the classroom, strict as a parent, and uber-logical as a spouse.

None of those approaches have worked well for me. At no point, I suspect, was I ever in control.

Dumped, rejected, and otherwise isolated, I realize that I cannot control much. The more I explore that notion and relnquish to my powerlessness, the more at peace I am.

I’ve let go of so much, there’s not much remaining to even attempt to control even if I wanted to.

When it’s raining, let it rain.

Haters gonna hate.

Nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile.

And I am smiling so much these days. There’s no reason not to. It is something I can actually control. Doesn’t that pair with the advice of we can’t control what happens, but we can control our reaction to it?

I got to hold Coby the other day. I still have that loving moment with me.

Hell, I don’t even need a brolly . . . bask in the rain. Permagrin planted.

A Work in Progress

No matter how old I become, I am a work in progress.

Some lessons I need to relearn. Some are constant struggles.

I recognize I’ve been here before. I still need to change. Perhaps it will stick this time. I am ready to embrace it. I need to exude my happy.

Everyone seems to perceive me as a dour, moody chap who is always down. Perhaps some of that is my own projection. Yet, I do not perceive myself as such.

Why can’t I walk around with a permasmile on my face? Why am I routinely interjecting a wry, negative sleight in an attempt to be witty?

Release my happy!

I am getting better. I think it is that mantra of living an intentional life. Being aware of one’s surroundings. I am finding moments when things are turning and I can find the happy, release the negative, and just wipe away whatever is happening. I am quite aware that little that I encounter matters a hoot. I am able, it seems, to tap into that feeling and release the care that might take me negativity.

I need to build this habit so it is routine and ever-present.

This Makes No Sense

4 Pieces of Fruit Limit

A quick stop on the way home at the Acme that is convenient. Appaently, we are rationing food these days. But riddle me this, Batman. If I can only purchase four pieces of fruit, what has Acme bundled the bananas with six bananas?

It would seem that one is forbidden from purchasing them.