It’s been several weeks now with daily healthcare on site to help me do the difficult things (dry my back after a shower) and watch me lest I tip over in my walker. Add to that Physical Therapy in home a couple of days a week and I barely have time to nap, let alone read books and play my ukulele.
But I’m getting stronger, hurting less, and continue to exhibit good numbers for my vitals. Who knows, I might get back to the semi-decrepit state I enjoyed before my fall. Unfortunately, home nursing and physical therapy do not make you any younger.
Continue reading “Been a Tough Month”
Colonel Chichikov relates how his experiences with American capitalism provided Stalin with this classic witticism:
Continue reading “The Great American Novel”
From each according to his stupidity, to each according to his greed.
I was rummaging around in some old baseball archives from the Patriot League and was struck dumb by this moving piece written by Ulysses S, Fairsmith which at one time was proudly framed on the wall of his office at Ruppert Field.
[T]he Almighty Creator, Whose presence, I do feel in every park around the league, on those golden days of sweet, cheerful spring, hot plenteous summer, and bountiful and benevolent autumn, when physically strong and morally sound young men do sport in seriousness beneath the sun, as did the two in Eden, before the Serpent and the Fall. Daytime baseball is nothing less than a reminder of Eden in the time of innocence and joy; and too, an intimation of that which is yet to come. For what is a ball park, but that place wherein Americans may gather to worship the beauty of God’s earth, the skill and strength of His children, and the holiness of His commandment to order and obedience. For such are the twin rocks upon which all sport is founded. And woe unto him, I say, who would assemble our players and our fans beneath the feeble, artificial light of godless science! For in the end as in the beginning, in the Paradise to come as in the Eden we have lost, it is not by the faint wattage of the electric light bulb that ye shall be judged, but rather in the unblinking eye of the Lord, wherein we are all as bareheaded fans in the open bleachers and tiny players prancing beneath the vault of His Heaven.
I am considering sending this to Ted Cruz or perhaps even Mike Huckabee: I’m sure both esteemed gentlemen would immediately add it to their demands as candidates for President of the United States. What better wedge issue is there than the evils of night baseball?