This being retired and all has its moments. In addition to knowing for certain I've awakened every morning by the number of bones that creak and crack as I arise, my wife and I have scads of additional 'us' time (which she's still sorting out in terms of good or bad).
Tonight we get to do stuff that at no point in our nearly forty-two years of marriage might we have ever contemplated much less undertaken. We are becoming Sports Fans. (sort of)
Sigrid and our daughter Michelle are attending Game 1 of the WNBA best of five semifinal playoffs between the Connecticut Sun and the Los Angeles Sparks.
My son, Patrick, and I are at the Saint Patrick's Cathedral of Major League Baseball, Yankee Stadium, as the Bronx Bombers begin their final homestand of the regular season against the Los Angeles Angels (of Anaheim).
I don't know if the Kenny women are taking a peach basket to the game but I'm giving serious thought to bringing my mitt.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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