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My favorite song lyric is from “Box Full of Letters” by Wilco: “I just can’t find the time to write my mind the way I want it to read”.

This sums up my feeling about writing.  I want to write, in fact I do in drips and splatters.  I just can’t ever finish anything that I start, or polish anything into the shine I think it should have.

I feel like that about blogging too.  Conflicted.  I WANT to blog but I don’t know if I really have anything interesting to say.  I start more posts than I ever publish.

I’m listening to The Baseball Project as I write and thinking about this weekend’s round of College World Series regionals.  I love baseball.  I love college baseball.  I wish I knew enough about baseball to write about it but I’m more of a causal fan.  Oh, I know my stats and positions.  I know most of the major league players and some of the better minor league.  But that’s just part of knowing the game, enjoying how it’s played.

I love music the same way.  That excitement of fining a new band before most anyone else you know.  The quite snobbery of KNOWING that I probably listen to better music than you do…whoever you are.  The great friends I have met through music at stale little bars and in people’s front yards.  I’d like to write about that too.  I just don’t actually know enough about music to do so.  I know what I like and I could probably tell you why I like it, sort of.

Writing about my Parkinson’s disease is even more difficult.  It’s personal.   It affects my emotions as well as my body.  Sometimes I feel like I have no control of anything anymore.  My entire right side of my body is in constant revolt, I cry sometimes for little or no reason because I’m low on dopamine, my house is a mess, my tires need to be rotated, my cane in starting to really hurt my hand because I rest so much of my weight on it when I walk, and it ticks me off that I can’t paint my bedroom.  I feel like any time I post about PD I either sound whinny or ultra upbeat like a cheer-leader.  Neither really relates to how I feel.  Honestly, I am getting to the point where I don’t remember how it felt to walk without a limp.  Oddly, that’s a comfort.

I wish I was a writer.   I guess that comes from being a reader.  Instead I’ll settle for the occasional blog post.


It’s that dreaded time of year.  College football is over and college baseball is six long weeks away.  What is a person to do with their extra time?  There are books, movies, the internet, and I guess you could spend time with your family if you got really desperate.  I choose hockey.

I don’t have a favorite team, I sort of root for all the Canadians and ice-bound US states.  I believe that there should not be hockey teams where playing outdoors, at some point in the season, would not be possible.  Goodbye Phoenix, Florida, Carolina, Dallas, and the ridiculously named Ducks.

I’ve talked on my blog about it before but I have a bit of blood-lust when it comes to sports.  I love bench-clearing brawls in baseball.  I love seeing gloves hit the ice.  I don’t care for wrestling or MMA, I prefer to get my fighting in a slightly more organic venue.

I love that hockey players are the ultimate non-whiners.  Broke a tooth when you got hit by a puck?  Pull it out with your bare hands and keep skating.  Broken nose from a high stick?  As long as you can still see, keep skating.  Pissed off about that guy who just checked your star player again?  Drop your gloves and beat him up a bit.

So, it’s hockey for the next six to ten weeks for me.  No whining!


I have never been what anyone would call cool or trendy.  I have a hard time keeping up with what’s popular, partly because I have no patience for it and partly because I just don’t care.  So last year when my husband bought an iphone I just didn’t expect to be particularly impressed.  I was wrong.

Very few times have I ever really lusted after anything.  I wanted an iphone bad and when my ipod died (ipod sad face is the worst sight in modern technology) I wanted one even more.  The iphone is all of my favorite things in one sleek package.  It’s a music player, there is an app that allows you to follow all the MLB games and even listen to streaming radio broadcasts, and it’s also a phone (which comes in handy on the rare event that I actually answer it).  

Well today, my very own iphone should be delivered to my home.  I am geeked!  It’s better than Christmas!  

Also, I would like to take this opportunity to express my love for sugar-free orange jello.  I mix diet 7up in to give it a little zip and top it with a little fat-free whipped cream.  And to my strange sister who does not like jello, well that’s just another reason why Katie is my favorite sister.

0-6 road trip where the Cubs apparently forgot to bring bats along since they struggled to score even a single run most games.  Then, they return to Wrigley on Monday and go on a scoring run but are somehow completely unable to keep the Pirates from scoring.  Sad.

I know that it’s early in the season.  I know that the Cubs have had terrible luck with injuries so far.  I know that every team during the course of the season goes through a slump or two.  None of that has made me feel much better.  

Tonight, I want a win.  This year I want a World Series.  I know, it’s terrible and demanding but even the Blackhawks won a playoff series and two years ago they were the laughingstock of the NHL.  


Friday night my husband and a group of his friends will gather together for their annual fantasy baseball draft.  This has become, for our home, the official start of baseball season.  

Now, I don’t pretend to know what all goes on at a fantasy baseball draft but I assume it includes pizza, beer, smack-talk, and the eventual drafting of players.  I do know that I’m ready to watch the Cubs play.  Ready to watch as week by week the ivy at Wrigley starts to green.  Ready to drink some beer and eat a hot dog at Dickey Stephens while watching a Travs game.  That is what spring is all about.

I can hear each morning when I wake up The Hold Steady’s version of “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” running through my head.  I am ready, play ball!



"And music will save your life. It's religion. Treat it that way." -Bob Lefsetz
."A poet who reads his verse in public may have other nasty habits." -Lazarus Long from Robert Heinlein's "Time Enough For Love"

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