.........FOR

….and that’s fine. Really. If you don’t like strategy and skill in a competitive arena….I get it. It’s all cool. Perhaps video games or collecting seashells and stamps is your thing. You can totally tell me about it. I’ll listen or look and appreciate it’s what you’re into and perhaps be open minded enough to give it more than a second thought. Even though Steven Spielberg or Hans Solo didn’t designate hit their way to an MVP.

Then I’ll drop down a bunt with one out and a runner on first in the top of the seventh and before you know it your mom is calling me before she is you. That’s just how it goes.

Perhaps you’ll recite some movie lines to me and maybe in the next sentence some horrible ‘indie’ band lyrics. I’ll remember them for fifteen years and when the time is right I’ll steal second on a wild pitch and then a sacrifice fly will bring me home….to your dad, grandpa, and sister who all take me to see the first place you pissed your pants without a diaper.

Oh…do you like football? I’m sorry but all the cavemen are doing Geico commercials. All the gorillas are pounding their chests……in zoos.

You don’t like baseball? I fucking get it. Do us all a favor and don’t blog that you couldn’t care less because by doing so you are admitting that you’re not liking it is different….and strange….and so progressive or whatnot.

I played ball for fifteen years through college. I don’t talk about it all the time but it fills my dreams and heightens my awareness of the human condition. True, smart, theorized strategies against the same thing. A pitch, a hit, a throw, a result. All revolved against a ball roughly two and a half inches in diameter against a bat whose sweetspot is about three eighths of an inch. No hitting (usually), no blocking, no first down or fieldgoal. Just. Fucking. Ability.

Tell you what. I won’t blog about how I hate Internet pop culture or tumblrarity or what font goes best with hamburgers if you just accept the fact that baseball is real and ‘some’ people like it, and that by saying how much it doesn’t matter to you is, in fact, admitting there is something really fucked up about that.

Louise P……sorry for all the f-bombs.

By the way, this seasons world series was even more great not only because the Yankees won, but because one game my Chad….best friend who lives in NY…. texted the play by play to me when my cable went out, and two games I texted him the play by play while he was at work. These are special memories… happy pictures of clouds or stupid sayings can never compete with.

Come together. In real life. Whether you like it or not.

Live the feeling of the pictures or text you post. Experience the emotion firsthand before taking something away from another in a glare of misunderstanding and non-appropriate contempt.

People that go through their missed calls and call the numbers they don’t know.

“I got a missed call from this number. Who is this?”

no voicemail = no call back

Yay phone etiquette.