Something Not Quite Right

Yesterday I, along with the other four people in my family, went to the Target minute clinic to get our sore throats checked out.  As it turns out we are all fine with no measureable illness. What was amazing about the trip to the retail doc was that it didn’t cost anything. My insurance has a co-pay of zero dollars for this type of visit.  Had we gone to an urgent care we would have paid $25 each.  Considering that the actual cost of the visit is significantly higher than $25 it still would have been a really good deal. 

Back at target today we were picking up some basket filling provisions and stopped in one of the pharmacy aisles.  As my wife looked for an out of stock box I couldn’t help notice a situation at the pharmacy counter.  The pharmacy tech was explaining the cost of several prescriptions to an elderly woman. It became clear that the woman was trying to figure out how she would pay for her prescriptions and the tech was patiently going over the options for buying some of the prescriptions now and some others later. 

My mind vacillated between sadness and wondering if there was anything I could do.  I remembered the rare cash in my wallet and considered offering it to offset the cost of the medicines but knew it wouldn’t be enough to cover even one of the prescriptions.  My indecisiveness determined my course of action and in the end I did nothing. Nothing, that is, except for seeing something that is reported all of the time but that I have never had any firsthand experience with. Nothing but recognizing that something wasn’t right and wondering: What would be?

One of the Better Smells

There are not many better smells than that of a camp fire.  Tonight I sat by a fire, cooked food, talked, looked at ducks, ate food and left smell great.  Even better, tonight when I got home and hugged my wife, who also sat by the fire, she smelled great too.  That’s one of the great thinks about sitting by the fire, it stays with you and reminds you of the warmth and fun you had minutes, hours or maybe even days before.  But it isn’t just the last fire that stays with you. 

The smell of smoke on your shirt can bring you back to family trips and late night conversations.  Tonight I’m remembering a trip last summer with friends and an amalgamation of gatherings in my backyard.  I’m remembering a birthday party at the lake when we sat out the first night and got rained out the second.  The smoke from tonight’s fire is now dispersed across the city and has perhaps even left the state but the smoke that remains on my shirt keeps the memories close at hand.

Back on My Mind

Now that baseball is back in season it is back on my mind too.  I was talking with some friends about hitting.  In some way hitting is very simple: See the ball hit the ball.  On the other hand hitting is very complicated:  Know the game situation and what to accomplish at the plate, interpret the signs from the base coach move into the box, establish a comfortable and balanced athletic position, weight slightly back, hands up, find the ball in the pitchers hand, pick up the seams, identify the spin, load, squash the bug, stride toward the pitcher (or not), throw your hands at the ball (the barrel with follow), firm front leg, open hips, follow through, stay balanced.

But you can’t tell that to a 9 year old, or a 32 year old for that matter. As a rule of thumb start from the ground up and much of the rest will follow.

Round Two Update

It was a really hard push, especially up the hills, but it did haul.

Round Two

Last Thursday I took my newly reassembled bike to work.  Aside from being a bit nippy the ride in went pretty well.  The previously mentioned tire repair stayed true and some brake issues I was slightly concerned about didn’t manifest in the slightest.  The ride home presented an issue that made for a less than pleasant ride. 

For a little background I’ll say that the old bike has seen better days.  It also seems that most of my attempts to restore the old girl have hastened the downgrade of her condition.  As a result I have resorted to some measures that have reduced the functionality of some systems in order to maintain some utility. 

In particular I locked down the rear derailer, eliminating the ability to shift, but also preventing irritatingly random slipping in the drive train.  The remedy worked pretty well, until it didn’t.  A few miles from my destination the chain moved itself to the big chain ring which means every pedal stroke supplied the lease possible amount of propulsion.  This was annoying, and made for a slow few miles.

The fix was a pretty good idea except that it still allowed for a failure.  The problem was that I wanted to keep the chain in a middle position on the cluster of cogs to give me good purchase with every pedal revolution but without too much effort. Tonight I took the fix one step further by taking all of the tension out of the rear derailer, eliminating the possibility of any movement from the smallest of gears.  It will make for some hard pushing but after a brief test run down the alley it is very clear that it is also going to really haul.

Baseball

We had little league tryouts this weekend.  As one of the coaches I will draft a team then we will spend about a month preparing for the season before we play about 11 games followed by the post season.  Needless to say, over the next few months there will be a lot of baseball.  Tonight I was talked with the other dad that will coach with me and one of the thoughts we shared is that we are really lucky.

Sure the season can get long and there will be nights that I don’t want to go to practice and there will be game plans I don’t want to write and there will be kids who play in the dirt when they are supposed to be getting ready for the next pitch.  Sure all of those will happen but there are some other things that will help me keep perspective during those rough times. 

We live in a time and a place where I and my kids can dedicate significant portions of our time to a game.  My kids don’t have to work to help support the family and after the game we’ll always have a home to return to and food to eat. 

Who am I

Chandeliers tilt as the giant lists. Funhouse floors not novel here.  Lights on, lights off, shovel coal, lights on, lights off.  Taken down by the medium it was meant to traverse.