Chapter 90.5: Turning on the Hot Stove

Ok, I have about three minutes to squeeze in a blog post (which is often the case, and a big reason why there are few posts here lately.) Anyway, I was just chatting with a work friend, who like me is a baseball fanatic.

He asked where I thought Luis Pujols would end up. I told him I expected that he'd remain in St. Louis, but I could also see him heading out to Anaheim, despite their young first baseman Mark Trumbo. "What St. Louis needs to ask itself," I said, "is whether signing a 31-year-old Pujols, who may be on the downward side of his career, or Jose Reyes, who is 28 but prone to injury." I don't think they have the capacity to sign both to the contracts they will command on the open market. Basically, do you sign a top-notch shortstop, a position very hard to fill with quality, or a Hall of Fame first baseman, a position that is easier to fill.

My friend talked about how Pujols might be willing to offer a "home-town discount." Of course, for a guy who's already earning upward of $20 million a year, a hometown discount is still more than $20 million a year! And I don't think Reyes could command that.

For the record, I don't think my Mets will resign Reyes. I also don't know that he's definitely staying in the National League. But his market will not be as large as some people seem to think. The teams that might be able to sign him mostly have a solid shortstop in place or are unlikely to be attractive to Reyes, who I woudl expect wants to go to a perennial contender.

What do you think?

Chapter 90.2: Volunteer Spirit

In a couple weeks, our nation will recognize the tenth anniversary of one of the most horrifying attacks on its soil. I live not too far from New York City. These days, I work in Manhattan, a quick subway ride away from the area now known as Ground Zero. Ten years ago, it was just "the trade center" and it describes a larger area than most non-New Yorkers realize.

Those who know me well are aware that I'm an emergency medical technician (EMT) and have been for more than half my life. So, 9/11 hit me differently than it did for a lot of other Americans. I lost a friend that day and remain very thankful I didn't lose more. But this year will be a little different. Not only is it the tenth anniversary of that fateful day, but I'm also assigned to my squad duty that day. I don't expect anything tragic to happen to mark the day. But if it does, I have my training and experience to fall back on as well as the assistance of many able fellow volunteers.

You don't have to be an EMT to serve your community; it's my way, I don't expect it to be everyone's. But I hope that if you're able you'll find a way to volunteer your time, either on that day or on other days. Regardless of what your political positions might be, volunteering is mostly about helping to better your community or society. We're still months off from New Year's Resolutions, but maybe you can resolve to squeeze in a bit of volunteering into your life. You may find it's a wonderful way to improve not only your community but your perspective. Good luck. Stay safe.

Chapter 90: Hot Stuff

While I was jogging this morning, I passed an attractive young woman who was chatting with a neighbor of hers. She saw me and flashed me a thumbs up sign. I smiled, waved, and said good morning.

I don't think she was flirting with me. I think she was acknowledging that we both suffer from the same sickness. You see, she had exercise clothing on, too. For all I know, she might have just come back from a workout at the gym. Mind you, this is before 7 a.m. As Met first baseman Lucas Duda said about playing yesterday in 90-plus degree heat, "It's freaking hot out there!"

Of course, that's why I was out jogging before the rest of my household (other than the cats) was awake. It's freaking hot out there and getting hotter!

Why is it that joggers feel the need to get those miles in, mile after mile? Is it a madness derived from wanting to know how far we've gone? I mean, most joggers I know keep logs of either time run, miles run, or both. Or is it possibly because we have some undisclosed need to torment our bodies? No, I don't think so. If I did, I'd be like I was in high school and run in the middle of the day during days like this, running sans t-shirt in the hope that I might impress someone. To my knowledge, the only remarks I ever heard were about how stupid it is to run in such deadly weather.

I don't run as far or as long as I did just a few years ago. Kids'll do that to a guy. Probably to a woman, too. But I still long to put those miles down, to mark the steps taken. To know that, for at least a half hour or so, I pushed myself on this day, despite the obstacles.

Crazy. It's just too freaking hot out there.

Stay cool, everyone!

Chapter 89.8: Songs, Suicides, and Sitting Around

When I get the chance, I like to listen to music. For many years, I wrote music and lyrics, and I always feel like I can pretty much jump back into it at any moment even though I know my guitar muscles need to get back in shape. These days, most of the music I hear is sung by, to, or with a muppet, so I'm not sure I should attempt to write any music at the moment unless I'm ready to get heckled by two-year-olds.

But a song that still catches my attention is one that Dave Matthews came out with a couple years ago: Funny the Way It Is. In essence, it's about perspective. He describes children playing in the park on a beautiful sunny day; their cries of joy become mixed with the sound of a fire engine's siren and he reflects on how someone's home is burning down "on a day like this."

I especially love the lyric: Funny the way it is, not right or wrong/
Somebody's heart is broken, it becomes your favorite song.

I've written songs like that. The lyrics just ring so true.

Although I didn't hear the song this morning, it's one of the things that crossed my mind after hearing about my train being delayed this morning. Apparently in the early morning hours of the day soon ending, a person "trespassed" onto the tracks and was struck by a train. Hours later, trains were still delayed. I got into my office at least a half hour later than usual.

I suspect things were worse for the person who was killed by the train — worse still for that person's family. I wondered if it was drunken stupidity that led the person to the tracks before dawn or the prospect of yet another day of sadness that brought about that fatal decision. I don't know and never will.

On the train, a few people complained about the delay, the crowded conditions that resulted. But not many. Personally, I think folks in New Jersey understand that terrible things could happen to anyone and it's best not to dwell on them. Respect the moment, thank God you and your loved ones are ok, and move on to whatever is next.

Tonight, I'm thinking about that person whose life ended not twenty-four hours ago. I'm hoping the sun shines in blue skies, but I know that if it doesn't I'll be able to get through the day. And I pray that you're all well.

In the meantime: Sing. Sing a song...