Mornings with Mom

 Every morning, usually sometime between, oh say 8.30 and 11, I call my mother.  Sometimes it is later in the day because she might have a doctor's appointment, or was sleeping late, but the point being, I call her everyday, 95 percent of the time in the morning.  In fact, if I haven't called by 11, she will frequently call me to make sure I'm doing ok.

My dad was diagnosed with cancer in January 2008.  Even though he and mom, and M and I lived in the same town, Pocahontas, Arkansas, I would check on dad every morning, and if could not talk, mom would fill me in.  I'm ashamed to say I did not get by to see him every day, but most days I did, so there was constant communication.

After dad died in October 2009, my calls continued.  Back then I had two jobs.  I would work at the radio station from 5.30 until 8 and then go to the newspaper soon thereafter.  Usually on the drive home from KPOC, I would call Mom, see how the night went and chat about the upcoming day.  Nothing really important, just trying to be a good son and checking in.

But over the years, the calls have continued, as have the frequency and the seriousness of the calls.  Both mom and my step-father Tom have health issues.  Mom has several issues which have affected her quality of life.  I think I have mentioned in this space previously, in the past 12-18 months, she has fallen numerous times.  She has had Covid, broken her pelvis, broken her hip, broken her nose, been diagnosed with breast cancer, pneumonia, spent three days in a medically induced coma, and made numerous trips to the ER at St. Luke's Hospital in St. Louis.  Tom has dementia, and while it appears to be a slow decline, there are some days that are not as good as others.

She and Tom are both 88 and will be 89 this fall.  When I call now, I'm not only checking in on how mom is doing, but she fills me in on Tom's day and mood as well.

But in the last year or so, the calls have changed in another way.  Many of my mom's friends, Kay, Mona, Beverly, Barb have died, and that has affected her greatly.  Women she talked to with great regularity, women she also had long history of friendship with.  Since she has lost those connections, many days, I am the new substitute.  My mother likes to talk.  She likes to talk a lot, and that is fine.  I listen, which I believe is something I do well.  In some ways, I have added the title of trusted friend to my relationship with mom besides son.   Again, not complaining at all, just amazing over time how the dynamics have changed.

For example, I think it was Saturday morning, we talked for over an hour.  The subjects were wide and varied.  They included, my grandkids, my brother and his granddaughter, Italy, and the life she and dad had in Torino.  The nutritional value of peanut butter, which led directly to wondering how many folks put peanut butter on their waffles.  (Seriously, we discussed that).  We talked at length about assisted living facilities, and the pros and cons of places she and Tom have looked at.  Apricots, Cardinal baseball, what time they were coming on television, we talked about her and Tom's health issues, and her hoping Tom would feel like going to church on Sunday.  We even talked about Barry Goldwater.

I know my mother looks forward to these calls, these once or twice, sometimes three times a day calls.  I know they are an oasis to her.  She has told me that and I know she has told others, because they have relayed that information to me.

I enjoy the daily interaction for several reasons.  Probably the primary reason is my mother is 88, her health is not terminal, but it's not great either.  I forgot to mention her heart earlier.  That's another concern.  I don't know how long she will be here on this Earth, for that matter, that goes for me as well.  I do know this, when the time comes, if she should pass before I do, and she desires that, I know every morning I'll be looking at the phone wanting to call.  Just like so often needing to talk to my dad who has been gone 16 years.

I am blessed beyond words to have a good relationship with my mother.  I am blessed I had a good relationship with my dad.  

I rarely get on my soapbox, but I will now.  If she is still alive, call your mother, talk to her, listen to her words.  Talk to your father.  If things are messed up, take the step to make them right. It is not a chore to talk to our parents, it is a privilege.  Someday, maybe someday soon, maybe years down the road, there will be no one on the other end, and you will wish there was.

Be kind to each other.  Love all of you.

Italy

Yesterday (June 25th) was M's birthday, and as is our custom, the birthday child gets to choose what restaurant they want to eat lunch at.  On my birthday three weeks ago (June 5th), I chose Rosie's.  I love their enchiladas, their salsa and guacamole, as well as their sopapillas.

But yesterday was M's special day, and I had an idea of where she might go.  She didn't tell me until we left our home in Tuscumbia.  We went to Ricatoni's on Court Street in downtown Florence.  I will happily admit once she told me her selection, I was thrilled.  I think I may have audibly mumbled "nice choice", when she said where she wanted to go.  The fact is, I love Italian food.  I have a soft spot for pasta and Italian sauces.  It is so much more than spaghetti or lasagna or meatballs.  When M asks me to cook at home, probably 90 percent of the time I will create some sort of pasta dish.

But another reason I applauded her choice, is Ricatoni's reminds me somewhat of Italy.  As most of you know I spent 17 years at TWA (Trans World Airlines) and was able to travel a great deal, both domestically and internationally.  In the mid 90's, I made three trips to Italy, not just because I wanted to see Italy, which I did, but I wanted to see my folks.  In 1994, my dad, who worked for McDonnell Douglas in St. Louis, was asked, and accepted a transfer to Italy for three years.

Now if you are an Air Force veteran or aerospace geek, you know that McDonnell designed and built the F-4 Phantom, the F-15 Eagle and the F-18 Hornet and A/F-18 Super Hornet.  They also built an aircraft that was originally designed and built by Hawker-Siddely in England, the AV-8B Harrier, which was a vertical take-off and landing jet.  In the early '90's, the Italian government purchased 20 Harriers from McDonnell Douglas.  Part of the deal was, the Italians got to do the assembly.  So McDonnell sent, for lack of a better term, 20 airplane kits to Alenia, an Italian aircraft manufacturer.  McDonnell also sent about 15 management personnel to Alenia to act as advisors.  My dad, who was a manager in Tooling, was one of the first to go.

My folks lived in an apartment in Torino (Turin) overlooking a city park and the Po River.  My three trips over there with my first wife Trish and the boys were a delight.  They were educational, recreational, and culturally rich.  Torino is located in northwest Italy near the base of the Alps.  On a clear, smog less day, it was easy to see the snow-capped peaks of the Alps in the distance.  We would fly TWA non-stop from JFK in New York to Milano, where my folks would meet us, and then drive the 90 minutes or two hours northwest to Torino.

Mom delighted in cooking for us, having us try new recipes she had discovered.  She would go to the street market every other day or so and buy what she needed.  Everything from bread to fresh veggies, to fresh meat.  What a treat that was.  Mom knew just enough Italian to get by.

They also introduced us to their favorite restaurant in Torino, a small place called L'Idea.  I have no idea what that means.  Paola, who was actually Spanish, was a middle-aged woman who was the owner of the establishment.  Two brothers ran the place.  Mario, was the one who welcomed everyone, and his brother, whose name I can't remember, was the cook.  One thing I do remember about him was he played football (soccer) for a local club.  I remember one time he invited Clayton, who was probably five at the time, behind the counter to help make the pizza before it went into the brick oven.  He would put an apron on him and a chef's hat.  We called him Claytoni.

One side note, pizza in Italy is nothing, I mean nothing like pizza in the United States.

At L'Idea, I almost always had a margherita pizza, which is a pizza with an olive oil base, spread with a mixture of four cheeses and topped with basil and a bit of oregano with thinly sliced tomatoes.  It was "Molto Bene."

On one of the trips when we were there in the summer, like many eating establishments, L'Idea would rent parking spots in front of their restaurant and set up tables and chairs.  I know we took advantage of this.

Another cool thing was right next door to L'Idea, I mean right next door, was a gelato store.  So after you finished your pizza or calzone or clams, whatever, it was only a few steps to fresh Italian gelato.  I particularly remember a coconut gelato.  Dad and I were/are coconut fanatics, so I got the same thing every time.

Nearly every afternoon, Dad would take Clayton across Via Ventimiglia to the park to watch the older Italian men play bocce.  They did not mind him watching but frowned at the "bambino Americano" when he would cheer.

We would use Torino as a base, and travel all over that part of Europe, but for the purposes of this blog, I will only focus on Italy.  We drove some, we rode the trains some.  It is really an embarrassment how good the trains in Europe are compared to the U.S.  There really is no comparison.

We never went to Rome or southern Italy.  There were no trips to the Colosseum, the Vatican, Naples or Mt. Vesuvius.  There were however trips to Milan, Florence, Venice, Genoa, Pisa, Vicenza, and my favorite place in all of Italy, San Gimignano.   More on that in a bit.

One time we were in Milano during Carnivale, which is held during Lent.  Think of a toned-down Mardi Gras.  I also remember touring the Grande Duomo and Barclay, who I think was seven, coming home with a full AC Milan kit (uniform).

Venice is well, Venice.  It is everything you would every dream it to be.  I remember being in St. Mark's Square, along with another thousand tourists and just as many pigeons.  It really is breathtaking.  Walking the sidewalks, with the water on one side.  No, we did not take a gondola ride.  Honestly, we were afraid one of the kids might want to see if he could walk on water.

Florence is also a must see.  M and I both attended Harding University, and their first foreign campus was in Florence, the capital city of Tuscany.  It is easy to see why.  A beautiful city, at one time it was the center of medieval trade.  Home to the Medici family, who during the Renaissance, were probably the most powerful family in Europe.  Yes, we saw the statue of David, and I recall taking at least an hour, maybe longer, to cross the Ponte Vecchio Bridge.  Google it, it will amaze you.

Southwest of Florence and southeast of Pisa is the town of San Gimignano.  A walled city sitting atop a hill in the Siena province. The city is on the ridge of a hill and is encircled by three walls and has at its highest point, to the west, the ruins of a fortress dismantled in the 16th century. There are eight entrances into the city, set into the second wall, which dates from the 12th and 13th centuries.  I believe there are four piazzas (plazas) in the city, which dates back almost to the time of Christ.  

What I loved most about San Gimignano is the view from outside the city.  When we visited, we stayed in a Barnhouse converted to a B and B a couple of kilometers south of the walled city.  Between the Barnhouse and the city was a valley, filled with olive groves.  I remember each of the three mornings we were there being the first one up, getting some coffee, and sitting outside just after the sun came up.  The walls of the city looked golden as the morning sun shone upon them.  A thin fog would settle over the olive groves in the valley, and the dew would sparkle as the sun's first rays hit them.  That was 29 years ago and I can still see it, I can still sense it, and I still miss it.  It was a scene you never forget, and a place you never want to leave.   I'm not sure if M is ready, but I could move to San Gimignano next week.

You know, it's funny how a pizza in Florence, Alabama can trigger of treasure load of memories from the last century.  If you go to only one place in Europe, make it Italy.  You will not be disappointed.

Thank you for spending some time in this little corner of the world.  Be kind to each other.

Brian Wilson and Summer Songs

 A few years back I saw a bumper sticker, or perhaps it was an online post, I really don't remember.  But what I do remember is what it said.  It read, "I may be old, but at least I got to see all the good bands."  There may not be a truer statement.

Growing up, the Beach Boys were synonymous with summer.  They brought the California surfing music to the masses, and the masses responded enthusiastically, making the Beach Boys, along with the Beatles, the most successful bands of the 1960's.  Their songs waxed poetically, even romantically of an endless summer, of eternal youth.  I Get Around, Surfin' USA, Good Vibrations, Sloop John B, California Girls, Little Deuce Coupe, Surfin' Safari, 409, God Only Knows.  Their musical catalog was literally a summer playlist.

As I mentioned in the opening sentence, I was fortunate to see Brian, along with his brothers Carl and Dennis, their cousin Mike Love and friend Al Jardine and their perfect harmonies three times.   I saw them once at the St. Louis Muny Opera facility in Forest Park.   A beautiful 10,000 seat venue under the stars.  I saw them another time when they were touring with Chicago, which was a terrific double feature.  Then saw them another time performing alone in Little Rock.

With the official first day of summer this past week, the near 100-degree temps, and the passing of Wilson, it seemed like a good time to provide everyone with a summer playlist.  Find them online, download them, watch them on YouTube, take them to the pool or the beach, or just listen to them around the house when you are alone.  Oh, and you have my permission to dance like no one is watching as you listen.

Enjoy the Dalton 2025 Summer Playlist Top 40

1. I Get Around - Beach Boys

2. Saturday in the Park - Chicago

3. Sister Golden Hair - America

4. Good Vibrations - Beach Boys

5.  Southern Cross - Stephen Stills

6.  Margaritaville - Jimmy Buffet

7.  A Summer Song - Chad and Jeremy

8.  Summer in the City - Lovin' Spoonful

9.  In the Summertime - Mungo Jerry

10.  Here Comes the Sun - The Beatles

11.  See You in September - The Happenings

12.  Grease - Frankie Valli

13.  Fins - Jimmy Buffett

14.  Southern Nights - Glen Campbell

15.  Moonlight Feels Right - Starbuck

16.  California Girls - Beach Boys

17.  Ride Captain Ride - Blues Image

18.  Summer Wind - Frank Sinatra

19.  Sittin on the Dock of the Bay - Otis Redding

20.  Kokomo - Beach Boys

21.  Surf City - Jan and Dean

22.  Lovely Day - Bill Withers

23.  Rhiannon - Fleetwood Mac

24.  Route 101 - Herb Alpert

25.  Come Monday - Jimmy Buffet

26.  Vacation - Go-Go's

27.  Baker Street - Gerry Rafferty

28.  Summer Rain - Johnny Rivers

29.  A Beautiful Morning - The Rascals

30.  Summer Breeze - Seals and Crofts

31.  Midnight Rider - Allman Brothers

32.  Windy - The Association

33.  Sweet Caroline - Neil Diamond

34.  Boys of Summer - Don Henley

35.  Take it Easy - Eagles

36.  Wipe Out - The Ventures

37.  The Heat is On - Glen Frey

38.  Summertime - Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong

39.  The Rain, The Park and Other Things - Cowsills

40.  Hawaii Five-O Theme - The Ventures

There you have it, my top 40 summer songs.   I can almost hear Casey Kasem counting them down.   

Thanks for dropping by and thanks for reading or listening.  Be kind to each other, until next time, stay cool

Letter to my Dad

Hey kids, this is a repeat.  When I was working for the Pocahontas Star herald from 2000-2014, I had a weekly sports column.

The week before Father's Day in 2006, I wrote this column for my dad, just trying to express some things I perhaps hadn't said.  He was surprised by it and severely told me to be sure I write a similar column for Mother's Day the following year.  Which I did.

I saved the column, and I'm glad I did.  Dad died three years later.

So I searched my archives, dusted it off, and thought I would print it again.  From June 2006, 19 years ago, my Father's Day column to my dad.

Dalton

=======================

 Dear Dad,

It's me your oldest son.  You know, the one who writes for a living.

You know Father's Day is coming up this Sunday, so I thought I would say a few things that maybe I haven't said, or of I did say them, I need to say them again.

First, let me say thank you for being a Dad that always encouraged me where sports were concerned, and never put me down or tried to make me something I wasn't, or tried to push me.   You didn't try to live your life through me.  You let me be a kid and enjoy the game.   I think the only rule you had was if I started the season, I had to finish the season.   For that I am very grateful.

I have a lot of pleasant memories from when I was playing little league.   I remember how cool it was that you helped coach my little league teams.   I can recall that some of our games started at 6, and you would have to rush to the game, sometimes just meeting us there.   I loved having you around for those games.    I always thought I was pretty special in the eyes of my teammates because my dad was one of the coaches.

Another memory that I have cherished for the last 40 years was playing catch after dinner during the summer.  I was young and self-centered, and only thought about myself.   I didn't even think about the fact that you had been at work all day, were tired, and might want to sit and rest awhile, or talk to Mom, or possibly read the paper.

I wanted to play catch with you, and once the dinner dishes were done, I would beg you to come out back and play catch with me.  There I would stand by your chair, with two gloves and a baseball.  "Come on Dad," I would say, "let's go play catch."  And you always did.

I know there were probably some times when there were pressing issues that needed your attention and you couldn't, but in the mind of your 49-year old son, you always made time for me.

We would go out back and play catch for 20 or 30 minutes.  Sometimes we would talk about the Cardinals, or my little league team, sometimes we wouldn't say
much at all.  You know, it really didn't matter.  I was doing what I wanted to do, with whom I wanted to do it.

Do you remember that sometimes I would ask you to throw flies to me or throw grounders?   Remember I played second base, so I needed a lot of practice fielding ground balls.  I remember those times like they were yesterday.  Those are memories I never, ever want to lose.

 
How is it, that you were always able to get Cardinal tickets?   I loved going to the games and would not sleep the night before.  I remember going to a lot of "Bat nights", where they would give out bats to the kids.   Barry and I would get our bats, and hold them tightly as we fell asleep on the way home.

I've tried to be a good Dad like you.   It has been tough, but every time Barclay and I are playing catch, which we do as often as we can, I think of all the times you played catch with me when I know you really didn't want to, or you may have wanted to, but had other things you needed to do.    I didn't understand that then, but I do understand it now.

Our children are precious, and we need to make time for them.  We have a responsibility to them, to love them, to be there for them, to encourage them.  Those are just some of the lessons I learned from you on how to be a Dad. 

I am very proud of you and have always been proud to be your son.   I hope I have passed along some of the lessons you have given me to Barclay and Clayton.

I love you.  Happy Father's Day!

Dalton

Potpourri

 No this is not a column about that dried stuff you put in a small bowl and pour oil over it.

No, this is a blog about multiple things.  Remember the "potpourri" category on Jeopardy?  It could be anything.  Remember Forrest Gump?  This blog is going to be like a box of chocolates.  You never know what you're going to get.

Personally, I like to call it my stream of consciousness.  Some funny, some serious, some in between.  As always, happy reading.

M and I are leaving town tomorrow.  We are heading to Searcy, Arkansas to tour Harding Place, a retirement village run by Harding University (M and I both went to Harding.  She earned two degrees, I earned an invitation not to return).  Yes, we know some folks who are residents, know the former director, and some on the waiting list.  Yes, there is a four-to-five year waiting list.  But we will take a look around, kick the tires, talk to some people and decide if we want a place in line.

While we are on the subject of aging, both my mother and step-father will be 89 later this fall.  They still live in their own home, Mom still cooks and drives (daytime only), but there are some challenges.  They each have health issues that frankly are not getting any better.  Changes are eventually going to have to be made, and it is not going to be easy.  It's not too early to solicit prayers.

In early September we are heading to San Francisco for a few days to see Clayton (my younger son) and his wife Mimi.  They actually live in Novato, just a stone's throw from the Golden Gate Bridge.  Yes, it is as spectacular as it looks in pictures.  We were thinking about flying, but now we are toying with the idea of driving.  It's 2,200 miles each way, will take three or four days for sure, but the scenery will be better, and I don't have to deal with SFO.  Bonus, one of the two routes would take us through Winslow, Arizona.  If you don't know what that means, go ahead and unfriend yourself now.  Anyway, fly or drive?  What say ye?

Had a friend at church the other day who shall remain nameless, say to me, "you know, the great thing about a blog. no one knows if you're telling the truth."   I pondered that for a moment, then remembered the words of that great American Mark Twain.  "Never let the facts get in the way of a good story."  I'll just leave it right there.

I really don't care for one second how you feel about our current president and his leadership.  We are all entitled to our opinion, and I respect that.  But I do believe, giving what is going on in the country right now, and there is plenty of blame to go around, we are more divided as a nation than at any point since the Civil War, and I have very serious concerns as to what this will lead to.  Again, my blog, my opinion.

Speaking of my opinion, I stand firmly with ABC reporter Terry Moran.  In case you don't know, this past weekend, Moran, who has spent a couple of decades with ABC, and as far as I know has a sterling reputation, expressed some thoughts on "X" that shall we say were not complimentary of the president and a couple of his staff members.  To use the old saying, "before the ink was dry," there were calls from the White House to New York to anyone with a keyboard and anonymous handle calling for Moran to be fired immediately, or at the very least suspended, which is what ABC has done pending "further review."  

I disagree with the outburst because as a former journalist, I am a FIRM believer in free speech.  When we lose free speech, we lose our freedom, it is that simple and that serious.  If Moran was speaking as an ABC employee, then they have a right to discipline him.  But if he was speaking as Terry Moran, concerned American citizen, keep your hands off him.  As a refresher, let's revisit the First Amendment, as penned by James Madison, our fourth President and author of the Bill of Rights.  "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."   Ok, I'll ask again, what part of freedom of speech do those crying the loudest not understand.  I stand with Scott Pelley of CBS News who voiced similar concerns a couple weeks ago.  Again, I'm not defending what they said, but their right to say it as guaranteed by the First Amendment.

Ok, that took more space than I intended, but I am passionate about that.

Speaking of passionate, I have thoroughly enjoyed teaching Romans 8 in the Sherrod Ave. men's class on Wednesday night.  Jeff Walton, our class coordinator, asked for volunteers to teach each of the 16 chapters of Paul's book to the church in Rome.  I volunteered for Chapter 8, because it is my favorite chapter in the entire Bible.  Jeff said, "I'll give you two weeks."  I said, "I'll need three."  He said, "ok, you got it."   Well after three weeks we are not halfway through the chapter.  Umm, Jeff, can I have five or six?

As you can tell from the title of this blog, I love tacos.  I mean I really love tacos.  I have been on this egg kick for breakfast lately.  I mean, like five or six days a week I'll eat eggs.  My favorite way to eat them?  Scrambled and inside a soft, fluffy tortilla with some hash browns, onion, cheese, and the "meat du jour." I'll add avocado if I have it, and top with pico or hot sauce.  Mmmm good.  I believe soft flour tortillas are proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.

I started watching this program on Prime the other day, and after one episode I was hooked, and now I have M semi-hooked.  It's called "Corner Gas."  It is set in this incredibly small town on the prairie in Saskatchewan.  There all these quirky, hilarious characters loosely associated to the only gas station within 60 km.  It aired on Canadian television from 2004 until 2009.  I do comedy a lot better than I do drama.

My good friend Allison sent me a short video clip an hour or so ago from the movie, Barefoot in the Park, telling me how much she loved that movie.   In the clip Robert Redford and Jane Fonda are arguing in the hallway of their apartment building, and before you can say "Sundance Kid," they are locked in a fierce embrace kissing away.  The tag line of the clip read, "when she likes to kiss so much you get tired."  I don't know about you, but that has never happened to me.  I know, TMI.  Just forget I said anything.

I had a birthday last Thursday.  I don't mind telling you that I'm 68.  It's no big deal, it is what comes after 67.  Most of my adult life, I have foregone birthday cakes for birthday pies, more specifically, coconut cream pie.  My dad, who passed away in 2009, had a birthday of June 3rd.  My birthday is two days later on June 5th.  My Granny Dalton would cook us each a coconut cream pie for our birthday because a) it is both of our favorite pie, and b) we asked for it.   Anita Murphy, my boss at the newspaper in Pocahontas, would also make me a coconut cream pie for my birthday.  Unfortunately, she made me share it with the rest of the staff.

I think I have done enough rambling for one blog.  Thanks for keeping up and hope you come back.  Seriously.  Have a great week and be kind to each other.

Writing

 One thing about retirement, no matter how hard you try or don't try to fill the minutes, you are going to have some down time.  That is just a given.  Having spare time can be a blessing, time to sit back and enjoy the fruits of your labor, to do exactly what you want to do, when you want to do it, or it can be a curse.  You've heard the saying; idle hands are the devil's workshop.

Fortunately, M and I have been blessed in our retirement.  We are both involved in church activities, she, more than I, and we have both developed hobbies.  She has discovered quilting, and loves having the freedom to spend a lot of time in the kitchen, which I am a frequent recipient of.  I meanwhile have dived headfirst into genealogy research (go ahead, ask me how many Presidents I am related to), increased my number of rotisserie baseball teams, spend time in the garden, and started a blog.  It is the latter item I wish to visit today.

I love to write; I have always loved to write.  Writing has pretty much always been incredibly easy for me, which I know is a gift that many have.  I know I am blessed in that regard.  I enjoyed writing for the Pepper Box, the official paper of Ritenour High School in suburban St. Louis and loved my 14 years with the Pocahontas (AR) Star-Herald.   But over the past few years, since I left the Star Herald, I haven't done any writing to speak of.  Just a few newsletters for Rotary and church, that's about all.  It has taken me awhile to realize just how much I missed it.  

At the Star Herald, for the most part, I was the only full-time reporter.  Others, mainly Susan Thielemier Johnson and my boss/editor, Anita Murphy, also did some writing.  But Susan was the sales manager, and did a lot of writing, certainly more than me for our monthly social magazine, and Anita was up to her eyeballs in being boss and editor.  So that left Dalton to do the bulk of the writing for the paper, a weekly that came out on Wednesday evening, fell in my lap, and I didn't mind at all.

On an average week, I would have five or six stories for the front page, and on average, counting news, sports, agri, school stuff, features, I would write 7,000 to 8,000 words.  It was not every week but not uncommon for me to have written every word on the front page.  Like I said, I loved to write.

I thought I was burned out when I left, and I guess after 14 years I was.  But over time I realized, especially in the last year or so, that it was not the writing I was getting tired of, it was the routine, the time in the office, the endless meetings that needed covering, the sports events to cover and take pics of. 

As I previously mentioned, I really started missing writing, not the day-to-day routine, but writing just for the sake of writing.  With the encouragement of my retired English-teaching wife, this blog was born.   It gave me an outlet, as I can write when I want, and about what I want.  It was a win-win situation for me.

I post a link of my FB page, and text a link to a number of friends so if they so choose, they can just click and read.  And the readership certainly varies.  A couple of blogs have had over 100 views, while others as few as 23.  You just never know, well that is not exactly true, I kind of do.  The blogs that have been read the most are about politics and my thoughts on church and scripture.  My blog earlier this week, on what I would do if I were baseball commissioner, had less than 30 reads.  That surprised me, but then, maybe it shouldn't have.  But that's ok, I'm not writing for notoriety, or applause, or money, I'm just writing because I want to write.

Writing is very therapeutic.  I enjoy typing away and pausing, trying to think or that exact word or phrase I want to use.   I have written a few blogs, two or three, that after I finished them, and read them a couple of times, I thought, "this is crap," and promptly erased them, never to be seen again.  There have been some, when finished, I have thought, "that's not too bad."  But for the most part, I let you be the judge on what is good and what isn't.  

I love the feedback, I wish there were more, and honestly, even if you disagree on a point or two, or an entire blog, the dialogue, the point-counterpoint, that response is encouraging.  As far as I know, I haven't lost any friends over anything I have written.  The point being, after a blog, no matter what the reaction, I always feel good, I feel that I have satisfied my creative urge to communicate, that I have accomplished something.

So I guess I will continue to sit down at the keyboard two or three times a week and bang out whatever is in my mind and comes out my fingers.  You really have no idea how much it pleases me, and if you think it is good, feel free to forward it to your friends and family.  If you think it's garbage, let me know that as well.  After reflection, I just might agree with you.

Have a wonderful rest of your weekend.  Thanks for spending time with me and be kind to each other.

If I Were Baseball Commissioner

My birthday is coming up on Thursday, and I have decided for said birthday, I would love to be named Commissioner of baseball.  Don't laugh, I'm serious.  I have several changes in mind, all of which have the best interest of the fan in mind.

I don't have a lot of changes, but several I will pass along.

1.  Salary Cap - Without question this would be the toughest to enact.  The player's union, the MLBPA, is probably the most powerful union on the planet, and I am not exaggerating when I say that.  But tell me what is fair about this.  The Dodgers have a payroll of $336 million, then the Mets with a payroll of $324 million.  Another seven teams have a payroll over $200 million.  Meanwhile on the other end of the spectrum, The Pirates, Rays, White Sox, Athletics and Marlins all have a payroll below $100 million.  Where is the equity in that?  Simply put, there isn't any.  The NFL, NBA and the NHL all have a salary cap.  Baseball needs to find a way.

2.  Natural Grass, Everywhere - There are a few places that still have artificial turf.  The Diamondbacks, Rangers, Marlins and Blue Jays all have the plastic stuff.  Hall-of-Famer Richie Allen once said, "If a horse won't eat it, I don't want to play on it."  I'm with you Richie.  If they can play football on grass in Green Bay in December, surely you can play baseball on grass in April in Toronto.

3.  Do away with "theme" uniforms - This is just a thinly-veiled attempt to sell more jerseys.  Put a good product on the field and you don't have to worry about that.  Especially with the salary cap I'm imposing.  Seriously, wear whites at home, grey or blue on the road.  Maybe one colored jersey to wear on occasion.  Keep it simple boys.

4.  Regular uniforms at All-Star game - The last few years MLB has rolled out special all-star uniforms at the mid-summer classic.  They are hideous.  For nearly 90 years, players at the all-star games wore their own team uniforms at the All-Star game.  I never saw Willie Mays or Henry Aaron wear a special jersey.  Fans love seeing their favorite players in their own uniform.  Again, this is just an attempt by MLB to sell more jerseys.  I really hate greed.

5.  Every stadium must have a section of $10 seats - The average price of a ticket at Dodger Stadium is $177.  Head south on I-5 to Anaheim and the average price of a ticket at Angels Stadium is $54.  Hmmmm, I see a problem here.  There are 10 teams in the major leagues where the average price of a ticket is over $100.  Let's say you and the Mrs. want to go to a game and take the two kiddos.  At Dodger Stadium that is $708, just for tickets!  Another $40 or so for parking, then you have to have sodas, beer, hot dogs, maybe a souvenir for the kids.  It is easy to drop $1,000.  Baseball is making it impossible for the average fan to afford a game.  I propose every team must set aside two sections in their ballpark and sell those seats for $10 a piece.  That is showing good will that you are concerned about high prices, and as an owner, you are taking steps to make the game more affordable to your best fans.

6.  Game of the Week every Sunday Night - I don't care if it is ESPN, or Fox, or NBC, or TNT, find a network, and have them commit to televising a game every Sunday night during the regular season.  Some will say, we can't go up against football in September.  Yes you can.  Baseball is the National Pastime, act like it is still relevant.  Don't give in to the other sports.  Perhaps as an incentive, let them broadcast the World Series as well.

7.  World Series games on Saturday must be played in the afternoon - I don't want to hear it.  Yes, you are going up against college football.  But you know what, if you play at night, you are as well, so what is your point.  Baseball is 1,000 times more enjoyable when it is played in the sunshine like God intended.   This point is non-negotiable.

I should mention there are two things I am also dead set against and would love to change, but I think trying to change them would be next to impossible.  One is the DH.   I absolutely despise it.  I hated it when it started in 1973, and I hate in 2025.  Nothing has changed my mind, let the pitchers hit.   

I also despise inter-league play.  That is for spring training and the World Series.  Period.  As a Cardinal fan, I would much rather play the Cubs or Reds six or eight more times a year than have to play three games against the Twins or Athletics.  Unfortunately, like the DH, I fear it is here to stay.

Ok, that gives you plenty to chew on, now let's go to expansion.

I propose going to 32 teams.  That would mean adding two more teams.  I propose one in each league, giving both leagues 16 teams, which we will divide into four divisions with four teams each.

We need a pair of expansion teams, and I am awarding Nashville to the American League and Montreal to the National League.  Just missing out are Portland, San Antonio and Monterrey.  Nashville has plans and ownership in place, and let's face it, Montreal got the short end of the stick when they moved to Washington.  We need baseball back in Montreal.

Two other notes involving three teams.  Tampa Bay doesn't have a place to play, so I am moving them to Charlotte.  Secondly, Milwaukee and Houston will swap leagues.  The Brewers go back to the American where they belong, while the Astros come home to the National where they belong.  Every time I see the Astros play an American League game, I think, this is so wrong. 

Now the new divisional breakdown 

American League

East - Boston, Cleveland, New York, Toronto

South - Baltimore, Charlotte, Nashville, Texas

Central - Chicago, Detroit, Milwaukee, Minnesota

West - Anaheim, Kansas City, Las Vegas, Seattle

National League

East - Montreal, New York, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh

South - Atlanta, Cincinnati, Miami, Washington

Central - Chicago, Colorado, Houston, St. Louis

West - Arizona, Los Angeles, San Diego, San Francisco

I don't know about you, but that looks pretty good to me.

Ok, now the schedule.  We will still play 162 games.  Each team will play everyone in their division 14 times for a total of 42 games.  They will play six games against everyone else in their respective league, which would be 72 games.  They will play three games against each team in the other league for a total of 48.  That equals 162 games.  Easy peezy.

Each division champion will advance to the playoffs as will the two teams with the next best record, for a total of six in each league.  Youve got to make the regular season mean something.

The two first-place finishers with the best record will receive first-round byes.  The remaining two first-place finishers will play the two-wild cards in a best-of-three.

The Division Series will be a best-of-five, while the Championship Series and World Series will remain a best-of-seven.

Ok, those are my proposals.  Feel free to write your favorite owner and tell them you know a guy..... well, you know what I mean.

Have a great week.  Be nice to each other.