Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Foul Balls at the Ballpark and Elsewhere Friday Round-Up
It’s complicated but the upshot is this: Swirl the Dog managed to imprison Herc the Cat in my office while we were at the ballgame. Now, this is hard to envision but it involves Swirl removing the 1,152-page Steven King novel, The Stand, from its place keeping my office door open enough for the cat to go in and out while having a fabric hook and eye which keeps the door from opening completely because, you know, Swirl and cat food and cat other things. Once the giant book was removed, the wind forced the door shut, thus imprisoning the cat. This is a new and sophisticated level of dog-cat interaction in our house.
A foul ball ricocheted off a seat about four down from me, was caught by a big guy in a sleeveless t-shirt in one amazingly quick reflex, and then, almost as fast he turned, and gave the ball to a little boy sitting a few rows down. The whole section cheered. I yelled “Good job!” but mostly for giving the kid the ball, which he kind of had to do or he’d look like a big jerk. Still, it was sweet.
I am on the last 100 of my Get Out the Vote postcards targeted to Georgia’s less than regular voters. I have 200 done. I have Kamala Harris signs on my lawn and, today, wore a Harris/Walz button on my hat. This was a step because I wore the hat to the dog park where a couple of guys sit on a bench in matching Trump t-shirts. One talks real loud about how he’s on SSDI which makes his clothing choice pretty wacky. Go take a look at what Trump plans for your SSDI benefits, Medicaid, food stamps, all the stuff you’re probably using to get by. Connect the damn dots, friend.
When Kamala Harris talks about abortion rights, I get real sad. After all these years, I tear up. I walked around the dog park this morning thinking – I have only broken the law once in my life. And I did it at great risk to my health and future because there was no legal, safe, and compassionate option. It kills me, still kills me, as old as I am, to think of women being in terrible situations where no one will help them. It’s happening right now in this country. It’s so wrong. We have to fix this.
It’s fall so it’s the season where the blame starts flying about homelessness. As in, if Street Angels didn’t give people tents, we wouldn’t notice that there are homeless people everywhere right now. Stopping at a light coming out of the ballpark, a very slight, bent over, scrappy old guy and his partner, a paper-thin woman with blond hair, maybe a wig, asked for money but we didn’t have any. Then he asked who won the game and then for the score. Then the two of them crossed the street in front of us and I thought, I wonder if they have a tent to go to. I’d give them a tent if they asked. So, I went home and ordered a bunch of tents and tarps and little flashlights for Street Angels because, I don’t know, because if I was them, that’s what I’d want for the night.
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Snow Door | wisconsinacademy.org
Listen to Jan read her essay “Billy” presented on WUWM’s Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “At the Breakfast Bar” on WUWM Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “The Parish Hall,” on WUWM Lake Effect
“Fury Cannot Touch Me,” Modern Love, NYT, 9/29/11
you live with real-life cartoon characters. this event was a whole other level. nice of the guy at the ballpark, whether the motivation was peer pressure or not, the young boy will always remember his gesture. you’re right about the homeless, people tend to forget or not think about it, until they are too big to ignore, in a tent or near where they are.