I remember when I was efficient. From the time the alarm clock went off, everything was planned and executed on time. I was a stream-lined efficiency machine. Now in retirement, there are less alarm clock settings. Setting the alarm at 8:30 hardly counts.
This morning was kind of typical, except Carole left early to go to the dentist for a teeth cleaning. That left me with no adult supervision. I let our sheltie, Nikki out in our fenced-in back yard, then ate and looked at the paper. The Washington Capitols changed coaches, but not the inability to make crisp passes, losing to the St. Louis Blues.
Then, I decided to do a little doggie pickup in the back yard. The back yard had had three to six inches of leaves everywhere until Monday. Now it was free of leaves and I would be able to ferret out what shouldn’t be there. I put on a light jacket, even though it was cold, because this was going to be a quick trip. I had moderate success. I know what moderate means, even if Herman Cain doesn’t know what “reassess” means. While I was wandering around favorite back-yard routes, I heard a really loud bird. I didn’t recognize the call, so I stood still and tried to find it. It was a red-bellied woodpecker that feeds often in our yard. Maybe the bird was upset because my sunflower seed feeder was empty. I wandered out to the shed to fill the bird feeders. I thought I could still make this a quick back-yard trip. The shed was locked. I always leave the shed unlocked, but because we traveled over Thanksgiving, I had locked it.
I went into the house, grabbed the keys and headed out. There was one feeder I could reach without the ladder. The shed was now crowded with hose containers. In the winter I put them in the shed because the chipmunks like to hide in them and Nikki goes crazy. Nikki actually knocks the hose containers over, but with no luck. I filled the bird feeder and then tried to get to the ladder. While trying to step over a hose container, I knocked over the bird feeder. I hadn’t secured the top and the bird seed went everywhere. Fortunately or unfortunately, this has happened before, so I was prepared. I had a dust pan and brush right there. My hands were now getting cold. I should have changed jackets when I got the keys.
Ten minutes later, I’m in the house. The feeders are filled, I’m sniffling and trying to remember what I was supposed to do today. I’m sure it wasn’t writing this.
While I have been fumbling around, the red-bellied woodpecker has checked out. Damn fickle bird.
Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com
Monthly Archives: November 2011
Senior Moments
Yesterday caused me to pause and reflect. When you get to be “senior,” everything that goes wrong is attributed to your seniorness. Well, I did something pretty dumb yesterday and it got me thinking. It’s too easy and unfair to blame everything that goes wrong on being “senior.”
This day had been a long one, but enjoyable. I had had a good round of golf, which has been happening less frequently. We turned the TV off at 11 o’clock and were starting the migration upstairs. As I walked into the kitchen, four little blue lights belonging to the dishwasher were glowing at me. We had forgotten to empty the dishwasher.
Carole came into the kitchen and started wiping off the water that gathers on the upside down glasses and cups. Then she started emptying the dishwasher, placing things on the counter. I would grab the dishes and glasses off of the counter and tuck them into their assigned places in the cabinets. Everything has its place.
I started with the glasses and cups. Sitting on the counter next to the clean glasses was Carole’s ice water glass which was over half full. I grabbed it by its handle and turned it over to fit it into its spot. All hell broke loose. Water and ice hit the counter, the floor and me. I suspect I was holding the glass kind of high when I turned it over. The water went everywhere. Some of our corner cabinets come all the way down to the counter. I am told they are called garages. Well, I parked water and ice all over the inside of the garage. I’m glad she wasn’t drinking a Dr. Pepper.
Fifteen minutes later everything was back to normal. While such situations require a grave apologetic mood, I couldn’t help but be amused at such a stupid stunt. I really wanted to laugh, but, of course, you can’t when you are seeking forgiveness.
Later, I started thinking how easy it is to blame such screw ups on being “senior.” “He’s an old fuddy-duddy.” Well, I want you to know that I’ve been pulling stunts like this for years. It is unfair to blame mishaps on seniorities.
In my early twenties, I went to work without a belt on. I guess that’s no big deal if you work for IBM or the telephone company, but I was in the Army. And with no belt, I was out of uniform. God bless the sergeant major who took me aside and told me so I could remedy the problem. The rest of the office was having a good time at my expense.
In law school, at an even earlier age, we lived about two miles south of the school. I would drop Carole off downtown where she worked and then pick her up at the end of the day. This particular day was in the dead of winter and the temperature was in the teens. When I came out of class the wind was blowing 20 to 30 miles per hour from the north. But I had a big parka with a fur hood. I just pointed myself south and let the wind pound on my back and blow me home. When it was time to pick up Carole, I grabbed my keys and started out to the car. No car. I had driven that day to school and the car was in the parking lot next to Tate Hall. The wind had not died down, nor changed direction as I started my two mile trek into the icy blast.
So I think it is unfair to blame screw ups on being “senior.” I had a real good point to close with, but it escapes me right now. I will say that men of all ages, on occasion, forget to zip their fly. So I put no special meaning in the fact that while playing golf with my buddies the other day, it took me 12 holes to realize that my fly was unzipped. I am sure I would have recognized it sooner had it been colder or more windy.
Written by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com
Cardinals, Cardinals, Forever Cardinals
There isn’t much that most people agree on. But, most people agree that St. Louis is a great baseball town. The people of St Louis love the Cardinals. They also are great, knowledgeable fans. They respect the players and don’t boo a botched play. They also applaud for an opposing player who makes a great play. That is the atmosphere I grew up in.
When I was a little kid, I used to go to bed each night listening to Harry Carey and Gabby Street broadcasting the Cardinal games. As soon as the team would get close to 500 ball, Harry would start figuring what we had to do to get into first place. Back then, there was no National League playoff. You either won the pennant or you went home. The Cardinals won their share in the Forties, not in the Fifties.
My dad had been a professional baseball player and in the early 50’s was scouting for the Cardinals. In 1952, we were invited over to Sportsman’s Park to see a new pitching phenom. The young pitcher was Stu Miller and the Cards were playing the Brooklyn Dodgers. We were sitting right behind home plate. Miller had a slow curve that swept from inside the plate to way outside. I still remember Miller striking out Roy Campanella. After the last strike, Campy leaned on one leg and the bat and stared out at Miller. It appeared he was thinking, “Where in the world did that pitch come from?”
In 1954, I was there the day that Stan the Man hit five home runs in a double header against the New York Giants. I guess I have made it quite clear that I grew up with the Cardinals as a main part of my childhood.
Through the years, we Redbird fans have had our ups and downs. After beating the Milwaukee Brewers (then in the American League) in 1982 to win the World Series for the 9th time, we took on Kansas City in 1985 for number 10. We were ahead 3 games to 2 and 1-0 in the 9th inning of game six. The first ball hit in the bottom of the ninth was to the Cardinal first baseman Jack Clark who tossed it to pitcher Todd Worrell. The runner was clearly out, but umpire Don Denkinger called the runner safe. Denkinger later admitted that he had blown the call. Things went down hill after that and we ended up losing 2-1. Game seven was a Cardinal debacle. KC was the world champs.
In 2006, the Cardinals finished the season the same way Boston and Atlanta did this year. With two weeks to play, the Cards had an 8 1/2 game lead over the Houston Astros. The Cards lost seven games in a row, including four to the Astros. Well, the Cards lost the last game of the season, but so did the Astros, causing the Cards to limp into the playoffs. I figured they would lose in the the first round of the playoffs, but at least they weren’t humiliated by missing the playoffs completely.
It turned out we raced through San Diego and squeaked out a seven-game win over the New York Mets. Yadier Molina hit a home run in the top of the ninth to give the Cards a 2-1 lead. In the bottom of the ninth, rookie closer, Adam Wainwright, ended up with the bases loaded, two outs and Carlos Beltran at the plate. Beltran had destroyed the Cardinals for years as an Astro. But with two strikes on Beltran, Wainwright buckled Beltran’s knees with a curve ball that caught the center of the plate.
After the playoff with the Mets, the World Series with Detroit was anti-climatic. We weren’t supposed to beat San Diego or the Mets. We were a prohibitive underdog against the Tigers, but we beat them in five games. I guess that’s why they play the game. We seem to make Las Vegas look bad.
But nothing, I mean nothing, in my life long love affair with the Cardinals prepared me for this years World Series against the Texas Rangers. We weren’t supposed to be there. Duh. We weren’t supposed to even make the playoffs. I guess you and I must have heard the next line regurgitated by announcers and commentators hundreds of times – “12 1/2 games out of the Wild Card on August 25th.” You need help to make up that kind of distance and we got it. We made the playoff on the last day of the season. Of course we were the underdog against the Phillies and the Brewers. Does that sound familiar? We beat them both and guess what? Texas was the prohibitive favorite to win the World Series. Somewhere along the way, it would seem that at least some of these odds makers would scratch their head and wonder what is going on.
At the end of five games, Texas was ahead three games to two. Let me just mention that in most major sports, there is a clock. Working the clock is just another weapon the team that is ahead may use. My wife, Carole, would go crazy when North Carolina would go into their four corner offense. But baseball has no clock. You must get the last out to win the game
In the 9th inning, with two outs, the Cardinals were down by two runs with men on first and second. David Freeze was down to his last strike. I had my finger (really thumb) on the off button of the TV. And, somehow Freeze cracked one off the right field fence scoring two runs to tie the game. Thumb removed from TV button. There was life, there was hope. Then in the top of the 10th, Texas Ranger Josh Hamilton blasted a two-run homer. The air went out of Busch Stadium.
So here we go again. The first two cardinals, Daniel Descalso and John Jay got base hits. Pitcher Kyle Lohse pinch hit and hit a sacrifice bunt to move the runners into scoring position. Then Ryan Theriot grounded out to third scoring Descalso. Texas intentionally walked Albert Pujols. No one and I mean no one should question that decision. So with two outs, again, and two strike, again, and my thumb on the TV off button, again, Lance Bergman laces a single to centerfield scoring the tying run. This was better than Friday Night Lights – and it was for real!
In the 11th inning, after Texas failed to score, David Freeze hit a monster home run to the deepest part of center field. I was acting like a seven-year old. We had lived to play game seven.
Game seven was tense, but the Cardinals edge farther and farther ahead, winning the game 6-2. Chris Carpenter pitched six great innings giving up two early runs. Timely hitting by Freeze, Allen Craig and Molina was all that was needed.
Some will say that if it hadn’t rained postponing game six, then Carpenter couldn’t have pitched game seven and the Rangers would be World Champs. Anybody that talks like that doesn’t believe in destiny. I remind you of August 25th and 12 1/2 games behind. Let’s face it, the Force was with us.
There may have been teams that were better on paper than the Cardinals. But no team was better prepared than Tony LaRussa’s team. And no team had the heart, guts and nevergiveupidness. Go Redbirds!
Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com