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The Old Ball Game When I was growing up Baseball was the #1 sport in America. Baseball was and still is my favorite sport. Almost every kid I knew was a baseball fan. Almost every kid was dying to go to a major league baseball game, and of course every kid's "Holy Grail" was to catch a foul ball off the bat of a major league ballplayer, it certainly was mine. My first close encounter with getting a ball hit into the stands was on Old Timers Day in the old Yankee Stadium – when the monuments were still on the field of play out in center-field. I was at the game with my Dad and my two Grandfathers. We were in the upper deck just to the third base side of home plate. I was about 10. I was sitting on the aisle and my Dad's Dad was sitting next to me. Yankee shortstop Tony Kubek hit a foul ball that came up and landed in the aisle right next to me. I jumped on it and got my hands on it. The next kid, much older, a high school kid, reached down and

Screaming 2 - I Learned Something in Basic Training People learn in different ways and every experience no matter how distasteful can have some positive results, you never know what you might learn. I was being drafted when I decided to avoid letting the military decide which branch of the service I would be in (the Marines) and elected to join up with the Air Force. So, I was invited to attend basic training in the United States Air Force at Lackland AFB. It was not something I particularly wanted to do but as the saying goes, they made me an offer I couldn't refuse. It was the Vietnam War era and I was against the war. I just did not want to participate in the war effort, or for that matter, any activity that involved killing others. I was not happy about going into the military. I still can vividly recall the morning my Mom took me down to Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn to report. Getting out of the car and reporting to the Sargent in charge came with feelings o

The Perfect Parent I've never been a parent, only been someone's child. I have seen my siblings and friends consumed with worry and stress over their kids. Not having any kids myself I will never experience the agony and ecstasy of parenthood. I like to think I would have been a good parent but there's also a nagging doubt about whether I really have what it takes. I was lucky to have two parents who loved each other and were there for me my entire childhood. I grew up in a very secure loving environment. I had ample food and shelter. It was a small family, my Dad was an only child and my Mom had but one sister who never married. All the family lived close by. My parents, while on the strict side were loving, supportive, and engaged in our lives (my sister, my brother, and me). We were baby boomers. We were growing up in suburbia. We had time on our hands. So we tested our parents and misbehaved at times but we never got into any real trouble.

Can't Hear When You Scream I have never done well with people yelling or screaming at me. I tend to shut down. When someone starts doing that my mind wanders, I stop listening, and all I want to do is make the noise stop. Instead of listening, I tend to look at the person and wonder just what is going on with them. I don't even like it when someone is talking loud. Does this have something to do with my being a rather low volume talker myself? I really don't know. My Mom tells me I was a late talker. Late enough, according to Dr Spock, the baby care guru from the 40's, that my Mom and Dad took me to the Doctor to find out what was wrong with me. The Doctor tested my hearing and finding nothing wrong started asking my parents some things. He finally told them that I was not talking yet because I had no reason to talk. I evidently had figured out that all I had to do was point and make some noise, point and grunt. My parents would get things until th