Church of Baseball

I believe in the Church of Baseball.

I’ve tried all the major religions, and most of the minor ones.

I’ve worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms, and Isadora Duncan.

I know things.

For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball.

When I heard that, I gave Jesus a chance.

But it just didn’t work out between us.

The Lord laid too much guilt on me.

I prefer metaphysics to theology.

You see, there’s no guilt in baseball, and it’s never boring… which makes it like sex.

There’s never been a ballplayer slept with me who didn’t have the best year of his career.

Making love is like hitting a baseball: you just gotta relax and concentrate.

Besides, I’d never sleep with a player hitting under .250… not unless he had a lot of RBIs and was a great glove man up the middle.

You see, there’s a certain amount of life wisdom I give these boys.

I can expand their minds. Sometimes when I’ve got a ballplayer alone, I’ll just read Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman to him, and the guys are so sweet, they always stay and listen.

‘Course, a guy’ll listen to anything if he thinks it’s foreplay.

I make them feel confident, and they make me feel safe, and pretty.

‘Course, what I give them lasts a lifetime; what they give me lasts 142 games.

Sometimes it seems like a bad trade.

But bad trades are part of baseball – now who can forget Frank Robinson for Milt Pappas, for God’s sake?

It’s a long season and you gotta trust it.

I’ve tried ’em all, I really have, and the only church that truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the Church of Baseball.

Annie Savoy played by Susan Sarandon in Bull Durham

A Few of my Favorite Things

So yesterday I went on and on about my Love/Hate relationship with WordPress..and more specifically with Fresh Pressed Bloggers.

My good friend Dotty has set me straight. I’m giving up my dream of being Pressed (as the kids in the blog-hood say). And I’m not just saying that. The whole reason I started this blogging thingy, is because I love to write. Not to get awards that only a handful really understand what in tarnation they are anyway.

I’m a total Squiggle Line if you take any stock in Personality tests. Which means I love to express myself. As my one friend asked me once: Well, why can’t you just write in a diary, Lis? My honest and bald retort: Cuz no one would SEE it!!

So, wrapped up like a pig in a blanket….my statement about blogging is this:

I love to write. I write for myself. But it’s more fun when people watch.

And, I’m a reader. I read and read and read. I was checking the newly crowned Pressers yesterday, and I did actually see a piece that got my mind whirling like a ceiling fan set on high.

Ya ya. You probably want to see it. I’ve whetted your appetite.

I know.

But, I won’t give you the link till the end. I’m smarter than the average blonde, and I know that if you click over to the Mr. Popular-Award-Winning- Blogger..you may not ever come back to MY little party over here.

See how cutthroat I can be?

He wrote about his favorite things in life. And it got me to thinking. I love to make lists in my head. I do it all the time. I pretend that someone may someday stop me in the middle of the sidewalk and demand that I tell them at gunpoint…What are your 5 favorite movies of ALL TIME?! Tell me lady…or else! (right here..the guy is making the classic and tired YOUR DEAD signal with his finger across his own neck) Stay tuned. I’m working on this list. Don’t kill me.

Hey, it may not be a realistic thing that would ever happen in South Dakota. Or on this universe in this time/space reality….but it’s good to be ready.

Therefore, when I read this guy’s list…I had to make one of my own.

Favorites

  • Raindrops on roses.  hee hee! just kidding.
  • When you are speeding down the road, and run right into a cop. They step on their brake..but you give them a friendly wave, and they let you go. This happens to me actually quite a bit, but I’ve gotten wind that I may be on some sort of “neighborhood watch”, so I’m lying low and taking the back roads until it blows over.
  • When you run into someone from highschool looking fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. 
  • When my husband is on an expedition with our kids, and sends me pictures of them every two seconds. He’s just as nuts about those little stinkers as I am. 🙂
  • When all I have to say to my friend is..nice cold pickles…and it causes fits of rolling on the floor laughter. Sorry. You had to be there.
  • When I find money that I’ve squirreled away for a rainy day. I really am kind of like a little hibernating animal. I’ve found money in Winter coat jackets, and even in my favorite Uggs once. I don’t remember doing the boots. That may not have even been my money. Finders Keepers!
  • When a little kid tells you that you are beautiful. Kids call it like they see it. Which can have a flip side. Like when they ask you why you have a huge zit on your nose.
  • When you have unavoidable dinner reservations with some shady acquaintances, and your kid ..as if on cue…pukes up their macaroni and cheese all over the floor. Oops! Sorry! Can’t make it! Darn. Seriously, a puking kid is your ticket out of jail. Who can argue with that one? Free Parking Baby!
  • When you pick out a random movie, and get lucky. Mr. Brooks. Shiver!!! Best all time Random Get Lucky Movie Pic of all time.

    Cover of "Mr. Brooks"

    Kevin Costner. Dude. You freaked me out!!! Awesome!

  • When you are so low, that you can’t even drag yourself off the couch in your favorite pajamas that have holes in them and your nasty matted slippers that no one loves but you to call for help, and your Mom has her spidey sense on…and rings you up. This has happened probably 3 times I can remember in my life. As soon as I got to the phone, and heard Mom’s voice, I started crying in only that voice that wolves can hear. Totally weirded my poor mother out.
  • A surprise text that makes you smile.
  • When someone misses a step, or falls.  I’m sorry to tell you that I’m the kind of person that laughs at other people’s misfortune. Once, my poor sister tried to come up the down escalator. I was standing at the top, pointing and laughing. It was all so hilarious and cartoon-like until she fell, and we had to rush her to the emergency room for 20 stitches in her knee. It’s a wonder I can look at myself in the mirror.
  • When I have a beverage of any kind, such as ice water, Diet Coke, Lemonade, Coffee with cream and sugar, and NO ONE ELSE drinks out of it. This is a rare thing in my house. And hardly ever happens. I think there could be some sort of good vibrational field surrounding my glass, that draws not only my children, but my husband to it. It’s like the forbidden apple thing. But when I do manage to keep it to myself…ahhhhhhh.

    English: Diet Coke Logo

    English: Diet Coke Logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Ok. Here’s the  LINK  to Mr. FancyPants Fresh Pressed’s Blog. Enjoy.

But please come back. I’m sitting at 4 1/2 followers. My short-term goal is 5.