I just hate it when people do this.

Lucia’s coming home from school today. It’ll be nice to have her home. Until she starts straightening up my office that is. My daughters are turning out to be pretty creative. Although I guess I always knew that. I’ve been saying that Lucia was born to be a designer. And that Quinn was born to be an actress. Lucia’s proving me out, Quinn hasn’t pursued her theatrical side directly, but that sense of drama and her vision translate into real strength in her other endeavors. Right now she’s doing pottery. When I say her vision, I mean she’s a bona fide visionary. You can tell when she’s describing her latest pottery project, that it’s appearing before her, her eyes are on it and she points to features as if we can all could see.  She’s shown ability in photography, film and is a great writer. Plus she very quickly catches on to any task that requires a combination of mental acuity and dexterity. Playing outside defender in soccer, a position requiring great speed, which she doesn’t have, she used her mind and excellent technique and strength to become a wall allowed very few balls to get down the line.

Lucia is a genius about how space works. As very young child she would make complex symmetrical drawings, casually creating mirror images of little abstract doodles. She’s kind of a minimalist by nature, her work is clean and sparse and right on. With a very well developed sense of how to convey information visually. Plus she’s blessed with discipline and drive. She didn’t get that from me.

We should all be collaborating on projects.

I had a remarkable vantage point to enjoy Kirby’s career with the Twins. I shared a pair of season tickets that were in the fourth row, directly behind home plate. It was from there that I watched Game 1 of the 87 Series and Games 6 and 7 of the ’91 Series. I had great seats for some magical baseball moments.

In Game 6 of ’91, it looked like it would be a real pitcher’s duel, I can’t remember which one of Atlanta’s mighty staff was pitching, but you just knew that a lead was going to be very tough to overcome. I remember, when the ball was hit, watching it rocket into the outfield thinking, “That’s going into the gap for at least a double, it’s over now.” Then I saw the fireplug shaped form coming into my vision from the right and thinking, “Wow, Kirby’s got a bead on that one, but he can’t possibly get to it.” I measured the flight of the ball and the sprint of the fielder and thought, “Wait, he might just get to it! Wow, I think he will get to it! He’s there, but no one can jump….Oh my God, he got it!” That was the most amazing baseball play I ever saw. And it was so typically Kirby, the huge play made at a huge moment. Oh, and he homered on the first pitch of extra innings to win the game.

He had an absolute cannon for an arm. There was a huge, slow power hitting first baseman at bat, I can’t remember which one. He cranked the ball into the gap between right and center and it was going to the wall, a double for sure. Kirby chased the ball to the wall, picked it up with his bare hand and in one motion turned and threw, without looking, a strike to the second baseman who tagged the plodding slugger out.

Bases were loaded and Kirby was at bat, the baseball nerd in front of me had a little device that held baseball’s massive statistical database. He informed us that Kirby had never hit a grand slam before. I was surprised because this was fairly late in his career. That’s when we heard that explosive crack of the bat and I turned to my buddy and said, “He has now.”

I also saw him hit for the cycle.

Late in the season in 1995 my wife and I played hookie from work to go to an afternoon game. We saw his last at bat. The sound of the ball hitting him in the head was terrifying and I actually thought he must be dead as he lay there on the ground. He never came back. They say the beaning had nothing to do with the glaucoma that ended his career the next spring, but you have to wonder.

Thanks for the memories!

I’ve attained new heights of absent mindedness.

Today I was working on the dreaded FAFSA, the federal form you have to fill out to qualify for financial aid. It’s not that tough to get through, if you’ve got your taxes done, so I was breezing through it when I came to the part where they ask you what the net value of your investments are. That’s not a tough one for us, not much. An IRA that I’ve had around forever, haven’t contributed to for years and has grown nicely over time. It’s a mix of Putnam funds. I asked Beck if we had anything else that she could think of, and she said that there was her Putnam stuff. “No honey that’s the same, remember that we put it in my name for a tax advantage.”

“No, I think I have something too, look it up in Quicken.”

I looked, and it’s there, but I was holding my statement and looking at what Quicken said, and they’re different. Close, but different. I stood there with a stupid expression, looking at the screen, looking at the paper, trying to make the numbers makes sense. Beck came into the room and start digging through the files and pulls out a different statement. It matches Quicken. I stared at the two pieces of paper when it dawned on me. There are two accounts! We have twice as much money saved as I thought we did!

Don’t get me wrong, It’s not a huge amount by any stretch, not even enough for a year of college, but it’s still twice as much as I thought I had. Twice as much as the number that I fit into the slot in my head as I’m grinding out the impossible equation of having two kids in college and escaping or getting exiled from the corporate world. I’ve been operating under this false assumption for years.

WooooooHooooo!

Last night I watched Kung Fu Hustle. I loved it! The whole thing had this wonderful aura of fun about it. Even though it was extremely violent. You could just feel how much fun the actors were having playing the wonderful cast of characters. Great effects, beautiful photography and art direction. Nods to more films than I caught and just pure fun. And somewhat of a storyline.

It was in Chinese with subtitles, but the story is so visually played that you wouldn’t really need to read the Subtitles to be thoroughly entertained.

I’ve given up. A couple of years ago I quit playing hoops. Not only because I’d lost so many steps that I couldn’t even keep up with the other old guys that I was playing with, but also because an hour of ball would result in four days of pain. I thought I could continue playing tennis, but recently it’s become apparent to me that that’s not true either. My knees are just too shot. I don’t have a slow first step. I don’t have any first step. I think I wouldn’t be walking in a couple of years if I continued. So, I’m done. At least until I get the knee replacement surgery.

I really wanted to play tennis with my daughters, but when they got good, they didn’t want to play with me anymore. And now it’s over. And I walk like Gabby Hayse.

After a year of not playing tennis my knee is feeling quite good and I’m rethinking having it done anytime soon. We’ll see how she holds up if I go to Colorado trout fishing.