Saturday, October 20, 2012

The Debate, Baseball and Life in Alpena, Michigan

The Debate, Baseball and Life in Alpena, Michigan (please, share as you like…thanks for the support) So much going on. In our little part of the world. Two men debating. And for what? Most of us have our minds made up. Driven not necessarily by what is right, but instead by whatever validates our thoughts. Our feelings. Our grand ideas of how life is supposed to be. When it begins. How it ends. And what we do in between. As if either of these two men will change the way I wake November 7th. Kiss my wife. Hug my kids. And go on about my day. But then again, I’m not afraid. And fear is exactly what it’s about. Someone’s gonna take my money. Take my God. My guns. My Big Gulp. And the saddest part of it is that the people that should be afraid are not. And then, we have the mighty Tigers. Playing against the Yankees. One state against another. One wallet against another. Men playing a game. People cheering. Booing. Art in power. Grace. Some people get it. Some do not. But one would suspect that if a person appreciates paintings, music and film then they too would appreciate baseball. The movement. The wait. The fact that these men train, practice, and do the one thing that they have loved since they were just little kids. Because the truth is most of us do not. We do what we’re told. What’s expected. What needs to be done. We work our jobs. Pay the bills. Put food on the table. Clothes on backs. And we tumble along through day after day—garbage day, grocery day, pay day—with a hard shell. Thick skin. Our Bible, our drugs, our drinks to get by. So that we are pleasantly surprised by little, unexpected parts of the day. Like getting out of the office. On a beautiful Tuesday morning. Getting your ass out of the cubicle. Away from the phone. The computer. And out to the shop. To the place where real men do the real work to make the machines that you sell. And as you walk toward the big building on a warm, blue-sky October day, thinking about your wife, your kids, how lucky you are to be living this small life far away from all the shit that seems to be ruining the world, you see a baseball bat. In a bucket. In the back of a pickup truck. And you see a opossum there too. Head split open. Curled up. Like a baby. Next to empty beer cans. And garbage. Just trying to keep warm. Breathing deeply. Slowly. In. Out. In. Out. Copyright © K.J. Stevens 2012

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