The Rules Changed

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Sunday morning I decided to take the train into NYC to visit my boys. What a mistake. Not the visit but the method of transportation at that particular day and time. I didn’t realize it was a Yankees-home-game and that suburban families from upstate NY would be making the long journey with me. And I didn’t even bring headphones…

Toddlers cried incessantly and crawled all over the seats until their indulgent parents gave them their very expensive phones to play with… Men, way too old to still be wearing the names of other grown men on their Yankees jerseys and t-shirts, strutted around the aisles ‘replaying’ past Yankees highlights.

Look, I have nothing against America’s favorite pastime. I think it’s an overpriced day out but to each their own (the train ticket price alone was staggering for these families and I can only assume the stadium ticket price was well beyond my monthly car payment). 

But where was the ‘old time’ fun? I remember going to games with my parents and older brother. It didn’t bankrupt us and we needn’t bring our own food from home because it was mostly affordable. And actually keeping score was a skill we perfected after repeated attendance and something that made us feel like a part of the entire ballgame experience.

Somewhere along the lines the rules changed. Prices skyrocketed and manners plummeted. I wouldn’t bring a young child to a game today – they’d hear foul (pun intended) language; reek of warm, spilled beer and be exposed to a world of entitlement, rudeness and bad sportsmanship.

But, hey, how else will they learn how to act on their own school turf?!

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Over The Hill

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Over the hill… depending on which century you were born in, the end of that sentence could go one of two ways:

1) and through the woods to grandmother’s house we go OR

2) you old bag o’ bones

Those of us born in the 20th century most likely think of Little Red Riding Hood and The Big Bad Wolf. The rest of you probably think about the rest of US old timers. That could mean anyone over the age of 30 or pretty much anyone who still remembers:

  • cassette tapes
  • cordless phones
  • FAX machines

But, as they say, you’re only as old as you feel. Or, in dog years, you’re already dead. Or, forty isn’t old if you’re a tree. Or, once you’re over the hill, you begin to pick up speed. Or, as I choose to think of it, I’d rather be over the hill than under it!