Second Column

Flashback: Slow summer Sundays remind me of a past time with the national pastime. A trip to the diamond to play softball, wall ball, soft toss, infield practice all while eyeing for fool's gold. The courts called to us, too. Basketball, tennis, paddle ball. All in all, the days were built around sports and the occasional bike ride to Turkey Hill for Coke slushies, a carton of sugar laced Turkey Hill iced tea, Bazooka Joe bubble gum, Now and Laters that pay dues in my memory banks forever after. Sports: watching it, playing it, living it. Even in the evening twilight, the APBA game boards came out under the porch lights. Roll the dice, pick your roster, head to head, the scorebook was well kept. Dots were always being connected, the analytics were crucial, 6-4-3 double plays, 5-4-3 double plays. Dave Winfield and Don Mattingly were my gurus. If a dice roll got them to their second column, then it was guaranteed home runs. Hot summer holidays were always outside with baseball gloves, volleyball and fireworks. My cool cousin burned his hand with a roman candle in Nan's backyard on St. Joseph's Street. But, still, the party raged on. The summer heat was a propulsion to party and gather and feel family vibes. To throw M-80s across the yard, to hit baseballs, to pick your dream team, to roll the dice and hope for doubles.

It was summertime and as the locusts sang and the bats acrobatted through the hazy, hot, humid evening air, the living was easy. Easy St. is real, I found it in the reflection on my youth. Life is good. It's a roll of the dice. The good rolls out weigh the not so good. So, tip your glasses back and quench your thirst with some of that good old T-Hill Tea!