Personal Time

Every year I try to get an early start on biking in the spring, only for April to become May.  Tomorrow being June, I finally made my way to the 606 to force man ad bicycle to do 45 miles.  No one was killed, although I did yell at this guy who stood in the middle of the path so he could take a picture.  I stop for kids and dogs, not clowns.

I was reading the paper this morning and saw that on this date in 1970, Luis Aparicio and Walt Williams had five hits each in a White Sox win at Fenway; the good Sox beat the bad Sox, 22-13, with five of those runs scored by Williams.  I remember listening to the game on my way to my high school graduation.  The bicycle was a combination graduation-18^th-birthday gift.

That’s the nice thing about cycling; you can let your thoughts wander, about how you looked in that white tux (like a waiter, basically) or how much the new townhouses on your left will sell for once they’re finished ($400,000 at least).  I tried not to think about Clare too much, because she was on a plane on her way to Syracuse to collect her boyfriend.  Chris won’t be finishing his second year with the Orange football team, for a very good reason: he’s been named the new offensive line coach at Elmhurst.  It’s great getting to say goodbye to your kid at 6:30 in the morning so she can catch her flight.  Oh well, at least it wasn’t in a B-17.

There was nobody wearing White Sox gear on the 606.  This might be a good place to dump Robin Ventura.  Or Kenny Williams.  Or Jerry Reinsdorf.