The weekend brought a respite from the ups and downs of high school. I needed a break, to think of something else. And that something else was baseball.
Tryouts for the freshman baseball team would not start until next March, but I wanted to start practicing to improve my chances.
Dad took me to the park on Saturday to play catch. We gradually lengthened the distance between us to build up my arm strength. But, I didn't want to over do it. It's September, I have six months.
Then he hit me grounders, first some easy ones and then gradually those more difficult. After a rest and some sandwiches, we worked on catching line drives and fly balls. Next Saturday, Dad promised to take me to a batting cage.
Sunday afternoon, the whole family went to a minor league baseball game not far from home. It was a great baseball weekend.
Take me out to the ballgame,
take out to the crowd,
buy me some peanuts and ...
Why do I keep thinking about Delores?
Sunday, June 28, 2020
Sunday, June 21, 2020
Ratified the Constitution
Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April in Seventy-five:
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town tonight,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North-Church-tower, as a signal light,
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country-folk to be up and to arm."
The immortal words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) give us the beginning of the American struggle for independence from the British. However, it would be another 15 months, until July 4, 1776, when the leaders of the independence movement openly declared it in a document published in Philadelphia.
The British rulers set out to crush the rebellion militarily (unlike the Portuguese monarchy in Brazil 46 years later). However, after six years of fighting and dying without victory in sight, the British gave up and started negotiating a diplomatic solution. The result was the Treaty of Paris signed on September 3, 1783 which gave independence to each of the thirteen former North American colonies.
Those thirteen newly independent States soon discovered they needed to create a better form of governmental union than what they had originally devised (The Articles of Confederation). Representatives from all the States met again in Philadelphia and crafted a new document.
Such new document, the United States Constitution, was adopted on September 17, 1787. Article Seven states, "The ratification of the Conventions of nine States, shall be sufficient for the Establishment of this Constitution between the States so ratifying the same."
In December 1787, Delaware, Pennsylvania and New Jersey ratified the Constitution. In January 1788, Georgia and Connecticut followed suit. In February, Massachusetts joined the fold. Maryland in April and South Carolina in May. Eight down, only one more to go.
On June 21, 1788 (232 years ago today), New Hampshire ratified the Constitution, the ninth to do so, fulfilling Article Seven, thus creating the United States of America.
At that point, the States of Virginia, New York, North Carolina and Rhode Island were considered foreign countries. However, Virginia ratified the Constitution four days after New Hampshire and New York one month after Virginia. North Carolina ratified the Constitution in 1789 and finally Rhode Island in 1790. All thirteen of the original British colonies were now part of the new United States of America.
Happy June Twenty-First! And happy father's day!
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April in Seventy-five:
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town tonight,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North-Church-tower, as a signal light,
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country-folk to be up and to arm."
The immortal words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) give us the beginning of the American struggle for independence from the British. However, it would be another 15 months, until July 4, 1776, when the leaders of the independence movement openly declared it in a document published in Philadelphia.
The British rulers set out to crush the rebellion militarily (unlike the Portuguese monarchy in Brazil 46 years later). However, after six years of fighting and dying without victory in sight, the British gave up and started negotiating a diplomatic solution. The result was the Treaty of Paris signed on September 3, 1783 which gave independence to each of the thirteen former North American colonies.
Those thirteen newly independent States soon discovered they needed to create a better form of governmental union than what they had originally devised (The Articles of Confederation). Representatives from all the States met again in Philadelphia and crafted a new document.
Such new document, the United States Constitution, was adopted on September 17, 1787. Article Seven states, "The ratification of the Conventions of nine States, shall be sufficient for the Establishment of this Constitution between the States so ratifying the same."
In December 1787, Delaware, Pennsylvania and New Jersey ratified the Constitution. In January 1788, Georgia and Connecticut followed suit. In February, Massachusetts joined the fold. Maryland in April and South Carolina in May. Eight down, only one more to go.
On June 21, 1788 (232 years ago today), New Hampshire ratified the Constitution, the ninth to do so, fulfilling Article Seven, thus creating the United States of America.
At that point, the States of Virginia, New York, North Carolina and Rhode Island were considered foreign countries. However, Virginia ratified the Constitution four days after New Hampshire and New York one month after Virginia. North Carolina ratified the Constitution in 1789 and finally Rhode Island in 1790. All thirteen of the original British colonies were now part of the new United States of America.
Happy June Twenty-First! And happy father's day!
Sunday, June 14, 2020
Surgery
In the summer of 1971, my ex-wife Bonita and I traveled through Europe with stopovers in Paris, Rome, Naples, Dubrovnik, Budapest and Vienna. And then we took an overnight train to Venice. That's where the trouble started.
Bonita and I spent the night in a six-person compartment, three seats facing three seats. We had the middle two on both sides. While sleeping, I had my legs stretched out with my feet on Bonita's space and her feet on mine. During the middle of the night, a bag fell from the overhead rack and landed on my right knee.
The above event didn't seem important at the time nor when we woke up the next morning and arrived in Venice. We found a place to stay and walked extensively through the fascinating city. After lunch, we returned to our "hotel" and rested.
When I awoke this time, my right knee started bothering me to such an extent I had difficulty walking. The next day I was fine. This on again, off again problem with my knee continued for the next four years.
In August of 1975, with Bonita's pregnancy (with my daughter Rachel) staring me in the face, I decided to take the advice of an orthopedic surgeon and have my right knee fixed. I did not want to enter fatherhood hobbling around on an untrustworthy knee. I wanted to be physically fit for my child.
The surgery was performed at Mt. Sinai Hospital in Manhattan (the entrance to which was used by Woody Allen in Hannah and Her Sisters), adjacent to Central Park. I had to be admitted the night before. Soon such surgery, to remove torn cartilage, would be done on an outpatient basis, not requiring an overnight stay. This time I would remain in the hospital for a week.
The night before surgery I was left in a ward with six beds for men with a variety of medical problems. I remember the young guy to my left had severe back issues. An older gentleman on the other side of the room was recovering from a heart attack.
A male nurse came in and told me to shave my right knee in preparation for the surgery. As I had never shaved it before, I asked him to do it, which he did reluctantly.
The next morning I was scared to death. As this was my first hospital experience since birth, the great unknown was all around me. I was placed on a litter and taken to the surgical area. There, I was placed in a queue with several patients ahead of me.
I feared I would be put in the wrong room with the wrong procedure done to me. Finally, upon entering my room, I insisted I not be given anesthesia until I saw my doctor. He eventually arrived and asked me to confirm which knee was to be operated on. I think he was kidding. Then in an instant, I was asleep.
I woke up in recovery and proceeded on the road to recuperation. However, my convalescence did not include physical therapy. Two years later I had to have surgery on my right knee again, but this time with subsequent physical therapy.
Taking up running (see Jim Fixx) brought my right leg back to full size and strength, but also eventually led to problems with my left knee which required two surgeries on it. After my fourth surgery in total, I gave up running which I had loved doing for ten years. No fifth, please!
Bonita and I spent the night in a six-person compartment, three seats facing three seats. We had the middle two on both sides. While sleeping, I had my legs stretched out with my feet on Bonita's space and her feet on mine. During the middle of the night, a bag fell from the overhead rack and landed on my right knee.
The above event didn't seem important at the time nor when we woke up the next morning and arrived in Venice. We found a place to stay and walked extensively through the fascinating city. After lunch, we returned to our "hotel" and rested.
When I awoke this time, my right knee started bothering me to such an extent I had difficulty walking. The next day I was fine. This on again, off again problem with my knee continued for the next four years.
In August of 1975, with Bonita's pregnancy (with my daughter Rachel) staring me in the face, I decided to take the advice of an orthopedic surgeon and have my right knee fixed. I did not want to enter fatherhood hobbling around on an untrustworthy knee. I wanted to be physically fit for my child.
The surgery was performed at Mt. Sinai Hospital in Manhattan (the entrance to which was used by Woody Allen in Hannah and Her Sisters), adjacent to Central Park. I had to be admitted the night before. Soon such surgery, to remove torn cartilage, would be done on an outpatient basis, not requiring an overnight stay. This time I would remain in the hospital for a week.
The night before surgery I was left in a ward with six beds for men with a variety of medical problems. I remember the young guy to my left had severe back issues. An older gentleman on the other side of the room was recovering from a heart attack.
A male nurse came in and told me to shave my right knee in preparation for the surgery. As I had never shaved it before, I asked him to do it, which he did reluctantly.
The next morning I was scared to death. As this was my first hospital experience since birth, the great unknown was all around me. I was placed on a litter and taken to the surgical area. There, I was placed in a queue with several patients ahead of me.
I feared I would be put in the wrong room with the wrong procedure done to me. Finally, upon entering my room, I insisted I not be given anesthesia until I saw my doctor. He eventually arrived and asked me to confirm which knee was to be operated on. I think he was kidding. Then in an instant, I was asleep.
I woke up in recovery and proceeded on the road to recuperation. However, my convalescence did not include physical therapy. Two years later I had to have surgery on my right knee again, but this time with subsequent physical therapy.
Taking up running (see Jim Fixx) brought my right leg back to full size and strength, but also eventually led to problems with my left knee which required two surgeries on it. After my fourth surgery in total, I gave up running which I had loved doing for ten years. No fifth, please!
Sunday, June 7, 2020
Hannah and Her Sisters
Hannah and Her Sisters is a 1986 comedy/drama written and directed by Woody Allen. Its starred among others Allen, Mia Farrow, Barbara Hershey, Dianne Wiest and Michael Caine. It was nominated for seven Academy Awards including Best Picture (won by Platoon) and Best Director (won by Oliver Stone for Platoon).
Hannah and Her Sisters won three Academy Awards: Allen for Best Original Screenplay, Wiest for Best Supporting Actress and Caine for Best Supporting Actor.
The three sisters from the title are Hannah (Farrow), Lee (Hershey) and Holly (Wiest). In addition, there are three story lines that are interwoven. I found the one involving Mickey Sachs (Allen), the ex-husband of Hannah and the future husband of Holly, to be the most interesting.
Mickey, a TV writer, is a hypochondriac. He's always running to doctors with real or imaginary complaints. But Mickey is deathly afraid of hospitals.
On one occasion, Mickey visits his GP because of a perceived loss of hearing in one of his ears, which one he is not sure. Reluctantly, he agrees to the Doctor's decision to make an appointment for him at Mt. Sinai Hospital where there are better diagnostic equipment to determine what is going on inside his head. While waiting for the appointment, Mickey learns that on "the dark side of the spectrum is brain tumor."
After undergoing various tests including an MRI, Mickey fantasizes he has an inoperable brain tumor. He thinks, "It's over. Face to face with eternity, not later, but now. I'm so frightened I can't move, speak, breathe."
However, in reality the doctor tells Mickey he's fine. He leaves the hospital literally jumping for joy. But suddenly, Mickey has an epiphany. Back in his office, he discusses it with his assistant.
"You realize what a thread we're all hanging by? You understand how meaningless everything is? No, I'm not dying now, but you know when I ran out of the hospital I was so thrilled because they told me I was gonna be alright. I stopped 'cause it hit me. I'm not gonna go today, I'm not gonna go tomorrow, but eventually I'm gonna be in that position. I managed to stick it in the back of my mind because it's a very horrible thing to think about."
Looking for answers about life and death, Mickey tries a variety of religions, without success. Eventually, he attempts suicide with a rifle, but fails.
Afterwards, Mickey walks the streets trying to calm himself. He enters a theater showing Duck Soup, an uproarious comedy with the Marx Brothers from 1933. Mickey's mood is lifted by the happy images on the screen. Later, he explains his revelation to his girlfriend and future wife Holly.
“What if the worst is true? What if there is no God and you only go around once and that’s it? Well, don’t you want to be part of the experience? You know, what the hell. It’s not all a drag and I’m thinking to myself, jeez, I should stop ruining my life searching for answers I’m never gonna get and just enjoy it while it lasts. And after, who knows, I mean you know maybe there is something. Nobody really knows. Yeah, I know maybe is a very slim read to hang your whole life on, but that’s the best we have. And then I started to sit back and I actually began to enjoy myself.”
We should all just sit back and enjoy ourselves.
Hannah and Her Sisters won three Academy Awards: Allen for Best Original Screenplay, Wiest for Best Supporting Actress and Caine for Best Supporting Actor.
The three sisters from the title are Hannah (Farrow), Lee (Hershey) and Holly (Wiest). In addition, there are three story lines that are interwoven. I found the one involving Mickey Sachs (Allen), the ex-husband of Hannah and the future husband of Holly, to be the most interesting.
Mickey, a TV writer, is a hypochondriac. He's always running to doctors with real or imaginary complaints. But Mickey is deathly afraid of hospitals.
On one occasion, Mickey visits his GP because of a perceived loss of hearing in one of his ears, which one he is not sure. Reluctantly, he agrees to the Doctor's decision to make an appointment for him at Mt. Sinai Hospital where there are better diagnostic equipment to determine what is going on inside his head. While waiting for the appointment, Mickey learns that on "the dark side of the spectrum is brain tumor."
After undergoing various tests including an MRI, Mickey fantasizes he has an inoperable brain tumor. He thinks, "It's over. Face to face with eternity, not later, but now. I'm so frightened I can't move, speak, breathe."
However, in reality the doctor tells Mickey he's fine. He leaves the hospital literally jumping for joy. But suddenly, Mickey has an epiphany. Back in his office, he discusses it with his assistant.
"You realize what a thread we're all hanging by? You understand how meaningless everything is? No, I'm not dying now, but you know when I ran out of the hospital I was so thrilled because they told me I was gonna be alright. I stopped 'cause it hit me. I'm not gonna go today, I'm not gonna go tomorrow, but eventually I'm gonna be in that position. I managed to stick it in the back of my mind because it's a very horrible thing to think about."
Looking for answers about life and death, Mickey tries a variety of religions, without success. Eventually, he attempts suicide with a rifle, but fails.
Afterwards, Mickey walks the streets trying to calm himself. He enters a theater showing Duck Soup, an uproarious comedy with the Marx Brothers from 1933. Mickey's mood is lifted by the happy images on the screen. Later, he explains his revelation to his girlfriend and future wife Holly.
“What if the worst is true? What if there is no God and you only go around once and that’s it? Well, don’t you want to be part of the experience? You know, what the hell. It’s not all a drag and I’m thinking to myself, jeez, I should stop ruining my life searching for answers I’m never gonna get and just enjoy it while it lasts. And after, who knows, I mean you know maybe there is something. Nobody really knows. Yeah, I know maybe is a very slim read to hang your whole life on, but that’s the best we have. And then I started to sit back and I actually began to enjoy myself.”
We should all just sit back and enjoy ourselves.
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