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Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Flip the deuce*

Batter up. Or down.
Well hell. We spent way too much time yesterday dropping George Plimpton's name, quoting William Faulkner, and of course watching Sam Smith on YouTube.** And we brought Sonia Sotomayor into the picture without really explaining why. Plus we probably left half none of the internet wondering who in the world Amy March is.

Since you're going to get short shrift tonight because of book club, we'll explain about our girlfriend Sonia first. We've read 'My Beloved World' for our meeting tonight and we are the presenter. Usually we share stuff about the writer's life and other works; since this book is a biography, that part seems overkill. Mostly we plan to pose questions about the book and her life -- What part surprised you most? What touched you most? Maybe we'll even ask, what did you think of the 58-page opinion she wrote (and read!) on affirmative action? Even through the book doesn't cover the Supreme Court Years.

We realized yesterday -- after writing so ponderously about failure, and opinions about (speaking of opinions) -- what was on TV as we huddled in the kitchen pounding on our Asus: baseball. And what sport better embodies the pull of failure and success than baseball? Because it's a game where, on defense, THEY KEEP TRACK OF YOUR MISTAKES ('errors') (which also often end up on ESPN bloopers' reels), and where, on offense, guys are lucky to succeed one-third of the time at bat. We've had first-hand knowledge here at CathyBlogs of how baseball plays with your head. (Not our head. Baseball players we have nurtured. Through success and failure.) This guy says it well. Maybe we need to have a refresher on lessons learned on the ballfield.

It's a twi-night doubleheader and this first game is over. We're going to suit up for the second game.

Oh what else and we're not even sorry


You know I think it's time to give this game a ride / Just to hit the ball, and touch 'em all / A moment in the sun / It's a-gone and you can tell that one good-bye.

* Turn a double play.
**We don't regret that part. We're still listening, actually.

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