Let Them Eat Nachos
The Bear sat at his home-desk for the day after escorting in a hot coffee from someplace close while Crackers joined Puck over his egg plate.
So…
That time I knew was coming had finally arrived.
SCHOOL TIME! [TIME… TIME… TIME…]
[Again, I can only imagine those words echoed in the deep reverberating voice of some under-villain about to scourge the earth with his hordes of minion-villains.]
In my own conclusion, however, I think I’ve figured out – at least for right now – how to approach this calamity of all calamities [at least in the minds of 93.4% of all boys nineteen and under].
Life is school.
School is learning.
Learning is everything.
It doesn’t matter whether it’s listening to the Bear shuffle through his first Greek word cards, following a photo blog from a dad/professional photographer based in California, watching the “Magic School Bus”, or figuring differential equations [ok, let’s not jump to that wildness too soon]. It’s all school. And if Puck can catch it early – that mentality – this beautiful outrageous bash of creation, exploration, and explosion of discovery, is going to be one amazing ride.
Just call us Balboa y Magellan.
I tried to research the Amish a little between everything this morning. Joe contacted me about his application to the library. The wall that will not be torn down. The Bear picked up Simon Boogey for lunch at Taco Bell. Burnt my lip on a little hot white cheddar and smoked gouda quesadilla for lunch over some quiet Stars of the Lid. Also, this time the bell peppers hailed from Canada. Maybe I just haven’t been paying attention…
This was the ballgame the Bear had been waiting for.
The all-you-can-eat ballpark buffet.
[As for me, aside from the fat soft-baked chocolate chip cookies and brownies, how could I get tired of a sport that contains something like 12,386,343 possible combinations of plays per game? But I must admit, “real food” at the ballpark is an acceptable novelty.]
The Bank of America Club.
Brats, burgers, fancy pasta, nachos, baked bakery desserts, endless drinks [including coffee; the Bear was pretty happy about that one…]
He also quickly introduced me to the unusual world of nachos graced not only with hot cheese and sour cream, but also salsa, as we watched a muggy night begin to unfold. It was pretty soupy out there. Not a solitary breeze to cut the heavy air.
Despite that, everyone was really on top of things, including Adron Chambers raked in from Triple A with an impressive slam-against-the-wall catch late in the game. Even our imported Blues organist was feeling peppy and note-accurate. Though why he felt the need to express himself through the “Can-Can” at that particular moment… The crowd was sparked too, lauding Yadi’s 1000th career hit with a standing ovation long enough to induce two salutes from the native Puerto Rican. Puma’s return to the plate was also greeted with heightened applause.
Around the time I noted to the Bear that my brownie was sort of tasting like river fish – never trust the nose; never trust the nose – the Bear was feeling creative in hypothetical situations as usual…
“Are those guys allowed to bring out random things to the field?”
“Like?…”
“Well, I just wonder if any of them are ever out there and they’re playing so badly that they kind of give up and start making balloon animals, or doing magic tricks. ‘Hey! Second base – pick a card, any card!’”
And another explosion of showering red sparks is always a good way to end the evening.