THE LAST GAME

I wrote a novella. In fact I penned two. One is entitled The Last Game. Niches and Crannies is the other.



Neither is very good. I guess that's why I've found my own niches in travel journals and blogs.



My first effort was based on the premise that neighborhoods have a character of their own and as a character a life of their own. What happens to a neighborhood before its youth grows up and plays its last game was the animus of the book. A neighborhood taking on a life of its own feeling the pangs of childhood growth almost as a protective parent was tough to sell. But it was fun to write, reflect, and speculate about.

Reminiscence is always fun and with the safe distance from actuality, a little better the second time through. And that's the way it was with both stories. But I knew there was a lot of incompleteness, a lot of holes. Yet I had devoted so much time that I was ready for closure. So I ended them both when I seem to run dry. Hey, so do Grisham and Martini and Patterson, so why not I.

I thought I might edit and take the best of both and transition into one, but the softness of me set in and so they both sit there on my book shelf. There are only a few in existence including two I left for the MTV High library.

So my literary career as a novellaist started and ended there. Somewhere out there is still The Great American Novella. It just won't be written by me.

I GET STOPPED UP
Just looking at the picture. Mold, lichens, dampness all send me allergetic.

Rubbing my eyelids, scratching them with a thumbnail raked just above the eyelashes are the start. Then when I've gotten no or little relief, I use the palms of my hands to rub frantically till I feel better.

This is on top of the 160 mg of some generic for Allegra that I take daily. I've taken that prescription so long that it probably doesn't work anymore, at least not well, but when I miss a day, I suffer.

I also take a full pop vitamin C pill every day to ward off colds. I'm a mess when I have a cold. I hack, I sniff, I snort, and in every way one can tell I'm miserable. My wife, on the other hand, is cool with a cold. She sounds a little raspy and holds a kleenex to her nose once in awhile, but otherwise there are no nasty sounds emanating from her congestion.

Maybe that's why I was never real crazy about The Hobbitt or Harry Potter. I was afraid they might give me the sniffles or turn on the faucet.

WE'RE TO ENJOY EVEN THE DOG DAYS

If as scripture applies to us as it did Jesus, then we are to enjoy life. He did according to Matthew 11:19.

Far too many Christians I know fret. They know better, too. They know who is sovereign. They know God has a purpose and perfect plan for our lives. Yet they think that walking the walk is somehow laborious.

Case in point. An usher at Chase Field told a friend of mine that she saw another friend of ours drinking a beer at a Diamondbacks' game. The friend being told confronted, yep, confronted the alleged brew drinker about his beverage.

And the accused wasn't even the one who had a beer. But to me, the confronter was worse than the guy who slugged down a beer. I know, we as Christians are not to make a fellow Christian stumble, but come on. If that causes anyone to stumble, then they were just waiting for an excuse anyhow.

For many years I have been a member of a Baptist church. But we don't always attend Baptist churches. When we're on vacation, that's our preference most of the time, but we'll attend other denominations, too. A Baptist friend of mine jokingly, at least somewhat, reminded me that when I take communion at other churches, I might just be drinking wine instead of grape juice. Well, again, that's a little too legalistic for me.

If Jesus left Heaven and His Father to come enjoying life on earth, then we'd be fools not to do the same. Besides, it's easy to be like Jesus in that regard.

LAUNDRY DAY IN FLORENCE

A precursor. Or a reflection.

Lots of dirties. Especially in the heat. Two shower days were the norm for us on our cruise leg of our European jaunt. With temps in the triples and humidity soaring to approximate that number, we got good soakings.

Too bad we weren't privy to an outside clothesline. Never do clothes smell better than being dried in fresh air except for the silk in the Tommy Bahama shirts new in the stores.

There was only 1 laundry for all the staterooms on the ship. It only consisted of 4 washers and 4 dryers. But with good timing and my presence to thwart an over aggressive Oriental man, we finished out tasks and stayed clean for the duration.

When we were leaving the ship, we shared a cab ride with a couple from Miami who had enough bags to stay till 2011. When we got out of the cab with our carry-ons and they knew how long we had been gone, he exclaimed, "You are now my idol, being able to travel so light."

"Well," my wife exclaimed, "we did laundry."

"We did, too," he countered.

I can see a huge argument brewing when they pack for their next trip.

SMILE ROOMS We were blessed on our Globus Bus Tour of Germany, Czech Republic, Hungary, and Slovakia with an experienced guide. The ropes he knew. Organized, personable, efficient, somewhat demanding, Erik also was a very good communicator.

For instance, when telling us the time that we had at a particular stop, he would never give rounded numbers. "We vill meet back at the bus at 2:35 in 24 minutes and 15 seconds." It was effective in delineating the exact time rather than allowing a misunderstanding. "I thought he said 2:55."

An experienced guide forced by arthritis to make a career change, he was also very even keeled. One especially fun night at a German outdoor restaurant complete with strolling musicians, our group got a little rowdy. I attribute it to Henry, a South Korean with a beautiful singing voice, who joined in with a violinist to a beautiful rendition of a Korean love song.

The others seated in groups of 8 at various tables also started singing culminating with "God Bless America". Keep in mind that while there may have been 30 of us, there were several other patrons at the restaurant. As I said at the time, "We're the group that you hate unless you're a part of us." None of the others joined in any of our songs.

As we were told we were going to leave, a chorused cheer went up with a flashback to the '60's: "Hell, no, we won't go."

It didn't phase Erik in the least as he acknowledged us, then led us to our bus. Besides that night, one other thing I'll long remember about him was his coining the term "smile rooms" for restrooms, necessary rooms, johns, luces, heads, toilets, potty rooms or any other terms. I'd never heard it used before, but I'd imagine in 10 years if any on our tour were to hear "smile rooms", they'd remember Erik.