Searching

Some days are harder than others. Taking a relative for x-rays for the second time in two weeks qualifies as one of those harder days. That would be today, not to be confused with the unplanned visit to the doctor’s office yesterday afternoon. The driving doesn’t bother me; it’s always been a way to explore new places. The music figures in once those places grow old. This comes from Clare and softball, practice after practice after tournament. She made CDs for her father in eighth grade. Grandpa can now make his own CDs. If you want to listen to Beach Bunny; Wet Leg; or Vilray and Rachael, hop right in. Then, there’s the collecting. I always try to find the time to scan eBay once a day. Right now, I want a team autographed ball from the 1963 White Sox, but it has to include autographs of Deacon Jones and Dave DeBusschere. I just looked a few minutes ago. That, and at White Sox rumors, which is how I found out Gary Peters died at the age of 85. Peters won AL Rookie of the Year, going 19-8 with a 2.33 ERA. He pitched the last game of the season trying for win number twenty, at home against the Senators. It was a Sunday, and my parents took a late September drive, with me in the back seat. I bet my father Peters would win the game. The Senators had 106 losses, and one more looked like a sure thing. My bad, my loss of a quarter after a 9-2 drubbing. Minnie Minoso led the visitors with three hits. Some days, the music isn’t enough, and the right team autographed ball isn’t for sale. Those are the days you don’t want a ballplayer from your long-ago childhood to pass away, least of all on a gray January Thursday.