Ooo, wee, ride me high...
Came home riding a high.
You do that when you meet a legend. And, I don't care what you say, Marshal Andy is a local legend.
But, I was nursing a headache and there's no baseball on tonight. (I don't count the silly home run derby.) So, I plopped down in the recliner to enjoy an old western. Starring Rex Allen Sr., no less.
Somewhere before the big fight at the end, I fell asleep, missing the climax and a couple of phone calls. But that's OK. I saw it all later. God bless TiVO.
I wanted to read Alan Alda's second memoir, the tome with the title "Things I Overheard While Talking to Myself." He is such a decent guy. Not to mention the star of my all-time favorite show.
But, headache had other plans, so I sat out on the porch and watched the sun set. It was quiet. It was perfect.
I thought about the last few days, the old friendships renewed, the wonderful, horrible surprise that is life, the good times, the laughs and the tears.
You take from it what you will. For me, it's the people, the music, a little beer and a lot of laughs, midnight Krystal runs and early morning dreams.
And it's funny. If the old dreams didn't work out, well, the new dreams will. We can't change the past. But we can do a little something about the future.
Now, it's off to bed. Big day tomorrow. Lunch and interns and seeing whether the National League can finally win the mid-summer classic.
Oh, I forgot to tell you the best part about last night. The headache went away.
Amazing what happens when you come home riding a high.