Central Time Zone

-

I’m back watching baseball after saying that I was done for the year.

I was in the Central Time Zone so the games started early. I told a couple of buddies that listening to baseball games on the radio while driving through Kansas is as exciting as it gets.

But man, I thought about the earliest playoffs I recall. The Orioles and Pirates in the World Series and the Mets against the A’s.

“Who’s pitching?” Is always the biggest question before a game begins.

Now it doesn’t matter!

The Giants starter got yanked in the 2nd inning!

But, this isn’t just a baseball blog!

It’s about the central time zone.

The big sky!

The huge storms that come out of nowhere.

I didn’t wear a jacket even though I left Buffalo at 5 a.m. 

I got to the rental car place and the guy, noting my driver’s license, said, ‘Man, those Bills opened a can of whoop ass on my Chiefs.”

The guy was smiling, but then he sent me outside to wait for the attendant and I stood there for twenty minutes in 48 degree weather as the winds whipped up.

I wondered if he was paying me back for Josh bitch-slapping Mahommes.

I covered about 700 miles of Kansas highway to get to all the jobs.

Just looking around it appeared to me that there are so many poor people. Broken-down homes. Busted up cars. And signs about freedom.

“My rights don’t end where your feelings begin.”

That was my favorite written sign.

People put those signs up in their yards.

I thought about Bezos and Musk and their race to be the richest man in the world.

$140 billion dollars.

One of the two is worth that much.

Those are the guys getting tax breaks.

That’s so wrong when you see all the poverty.

I’m not saying they have to distribute their money, but man, they should contribute. Someone worth that doesn’t need tax incentives.

I watched men herd cattle and other men work the fields as I drove along.

Everyone has a pickup.

All of them have bumper stickers.

You can go a long, long while without seeing a store.

There’s a lot of time to think.

About why starting pitchers don’t go longer in baseball playoff games.

I went out to dinner.

Ordered way too much food!

Brought it back to the hotel room because I didn’t want to venture out too much in a land where vaccines are seen as an attack on individual rights, and where masks are stupid.

“Jesus will save me!” One guy wrote on his barn.

I hope He does.

It’s good to be heading home.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Suits

-
Like a lot of other people we got pulled into the series, ‘Suits’ on Netflix. I’ve never had much fun hanging around lawyers who have questioned me as a construction safety officer. I once testified in a case where the opposing lawyer started questioning me by going through my educational background. “So,” he said, racing to a crescendo, “You graduated from college with a degree in Communications-Journalism and suddenly, 30 years later, you’re a ‘safety expert.’” He actually made the quotation marks with his fingers. I just looked at him. “How does that happen?” He bellowed, sure that he was going to discredit me. “Well,” I said. “I knew I was overqualified to become a lawyer.” The courtroom erupted in laughter. Even the judge chuckled. The rest of his questions landed flat. So, I wasn’t all that keen on a show about lawyers, but ‘Suits’ is great. Meghan Markle became a princess because of the show, and she is very good in it (and a beautiful woman). Yet, there is so much more. The wri
Read more

My Buddy, Dave

-
Way back in 1997, I started working with a steel erection company out of Syracuse. I was coming straight from a long stint with a steel erector here in Buffalo so I knew my stuff when it came to steel erection safety rules. On day one, I met with the safety director and he was just getting started as a safety guy, but man, he certainly cared about the guys he worked with. Dave was a good man from the start. He’d say things like: “You’re so full of beans.” Just a down to earth, hardworking guy who became a fast friend. We drove all around New York State setting up jobs. I always let Dave drive so that I could rest. One fine day, way up North of Syracuse, we passed a state trooper.  I glanced at the speedometer. “You’re screwed,” I said, and seconds later, the lights came on. Dave was beside himself.  The cop stopped by the window, grabbed the license and registration and headed back to his vehicle. “Here’s the thing,” I said. “You’re pissed, but you’re such a good guy that I bet you tha
Read more

Mom & Ollie

-
Image
 Ollie Stadium is a mess. The heavy rains rendered the backyard a mud pit and even though we threw in the side yard, the Big O was looking for more, and we were both covered in mud. I had to take some steam out of him somehow so I suggested we go visit Grandma. Ollie hates the car, but he laid quietly as we made the trip. We even brought the football because there is plenty of room to play at Grandma’s. Mom opened the door and started laughing. I thought about the love she had for every single dog we ever had. Oliver was quick to give my Mom a kiss, and then he stood beside her. The love between Mom and Dogs is a mutual bond. Through the years, Mom would make breakfast for the dogs.  Fried eggs, toast, bacon… She would wrap Christmas gifts for them. “To Jeter, Love Santa,” she would write on the cards. They played with the big chicken that made a lot of noise. Mom tossed the football and Ollie brought it back to her. As the visit drew to a close I headed for the door.  “C’mon, Oliver,”
Read more