Playing Catch With Life
Sometimes life throws you a curve ball, and if you’re not ready you it shoots right past you leaving you empty handed. It stinks, but you can catch the next one with some practice.
Sometimes life throws you a fast ball and the inexperienced has to dodge or be hit while the experienced can catch it but may walk away with a bruise.
Sometimes life becomes a pitching machine gone haywire and no amount experience will avoid hits and misses in rapid succession.
Sometimes life throws the ball when you thought the game was over and turned your back.
The last few weeks have brought a series of escalating revelations, good and bad, and I feel like I’m standing on the catcher’s mound without pads, without a glove, and a dazed sheen in my eyes. I had to call a time out even though the pitcher still wants to throw. I’ve had to walk away and go sit in the dugout while the game plays on. I don’t know when I’ll be ready to play again, or if I even want to play the same game by the same rules. I don’t know if I like the players. All I do know is that time outs are good for adults sometimes too.
/ Digg this / Stumble this6 Comments so far
Leave a reply
Considering the tone of this post, I hate to bother you at all, but I hope this won’t be too big a problem for you. If you look in the comments, your post on “Plastic” has been scraped. It happens to be my content they stole, and misattributed.
Not your fault, of course, but the stupid domain is hiding behind PrivacyProtect.org - if you hear from them, since the “scrape” links to you, could you just confirm I am the original owner? Thanks. I tried not to involve you: I gave them links to the scraped content and to my original post, but I’m asking in case they check out the link to you and contact you. I’m really sorry to bother you at all, but I don’t know how they’re going to handle this.
Hugs, VV. Learning to catch curve balls sucks.
This was just beginning to build into something really nice. New people joining in and all. Please don’t let it die. The 100 Words is a worthwhile endeavor. But it needs YOU.
i’m sorry: “catcher’s mound”… ?? and, uhm, catchers don’t wear “pads”… hockey goalies, maybe…
http://barkinguptrees.blogspot.com/2006/01/firedoglake.html
like, give an old friend a call for sports referencing the next time, eh… ?
p.s., if, as the catcher, mary, you call the curve ball, they’re easy to catch… it’s the knuckleball ya’ gotta look out for…
Frankly m’dear, I don’t give a damn. Or, as my young’un would say, “whatevs”.
Sorry to have offended your sensibilities…truly, as I’m sure you take much greater care than I.
oh dear, ’tis not my sensibilities offended… i merely jibe, tongue-in-cheek, as i respect your work overall here… your acumen, intensity, candlepower clearly surpass my own, and don’t think i didn’t detect the sarcasm in the second graph… is why, when i see such a departure from those qualities, however light-hearted, while attempting nomenclature i know a little something about and have religious tendencies toward, i cannot stand idly or quietly (he sighed heavily)…
for the record then, it is a “pitcher’s mound,” whereas the catcher’s territory is “home plate”… catching the curve ball is not a neat trick so much as being able to hit one… indeed, it was the breaking ball that greased my skid over to slow-pitch softball… a batter will “dodge or be hit,” but won’t be endeavoring to catch a pitch so much as attempt to wing at it… a catcher wears “equipment,” or less commonly known, his “tools of ignorance”… there are a coupla other gripes i could impart, but i suppose it’s too much “inside baseball”…
happy 4th, sister…