The Ball Field
A New Week
The baseball game last Saturday was one for the books. It went into extra innings, 15 to be exact, because the pitcher (that was pitching for both teams because of a player shortage) was throwing a perfect game…for both sides. This young man, a Norwegian boy named Hans Flernenmernen has an exceptional arm. He moved here a couple of years ago from Norway because his father worked for the American Defense Department and is assigned to the nearby Army base. Hans had an incredible two seasons in the Norwegian Leagues and was voted “Player of the Year” in his hometown of Sarbinyerbin, just outside of Oslo. This weekend’s game was finally won by the Shamrocks when one of the Rebel outfielders missed a routine fly ball while looking at the scoreboard and trying to pronounce Hans’ last name.
But today is Monday, the beginning of a new week, or the middle of a pretty good one, depending on which calendar you are using. This is the second day in a row of temperatures lower than 90°, after 62 days straight of 90° plus heat. It was a modestly humid 88° today. Not too bad. The evening breeze made it so much more bearable, and the fireflies seemed to return once more.
I have been getting some feedback around town that some of my readers feel that the articles that I am writing are too dry, or are lacking any real “excitement”. Well, such is life here in Lulawissie. It’s not Las Vegas, there is no “strip” (except for that little place just outside the city limits), just good wholesome living. It seems that the only excitement that we have had lately was the birth of our latest Lulawissian, a little baby girl. She was born last Friday to a young couple that works at the G and G. There was a lot of hoopla surrounding the anticipated coming of this young lass and her birth has caused a reawakening among the locals. Enough said.
But I have been writing for several years, a lot of short stories, the occasional long one and many, many articles. I have published many writings only to illicit a prescribed response, sometimes embellishing the facts “just a tad” to make it more interesting. But here, in this venue, I am writing about this lovely town, this small niche of Southeastern American life. No embellishment is needed, what I am writing about is what has actually happened here in Lulawissie, believe it or not.
We had an altercation up on Oak Lane the other day. It seems that Old John Pike, the town’s ice cream man was verbally assaulted by Mildred Shoop as he drove his truck down her street playing “On Top of the World” on his ice cream truck speaker. Mildred was in an apparent drunken stupor as she cursed at him because he did not bring her any beer. “Ice Cream? What happened to the %$#!! beer you used to bring me?” This incident answers a lot of questions, one being “Why is Mrs. Shoop eating so much ice cream?” Times are changin’, I guess.
It is cloudy tonight, and I can see that the night fishermen are taking advantage of the cooler air. There are several boats out on the lake with lanterns and a few fishermen on the shore. They are more than likely fishing for catfish. They will stay out there most of the night, and won’t come in until they are either too sleepy, are driven out by the mosquitoes, or if they are too drunk to fish. The more fish that they catch, the longer they will stay.
I think that the night will only get better for these few souls out on the lake. They are in a place of complete tranquility and solitude. It is a peaceful existence out there. I envy them at times. I think that maybe on the weekend, I will paddle out in my canoe in the evening and try my luck at catching some of that tranquility. You really don’t need any bait, just a desire for inner peace, something that is not hard to find here in Lulawissie.
Until next time.
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