Thinking Forwards and Backwards

 

L-R: My mother's mother, my mother, and father
picnicking in the 1950s

In the midst of address changes and other minutiae of the day, I found myself talking about July 4 on "Doubleheader."

It's always been a favorite day of mine, harkening back to years of great BBQs and gatherings with cousins, friends, and other loved ones.

Oh, do I long for the days of Wiffle ball games, softball, kickball, badminton, volleyball, and even the occasional football game. Or just riding bicycles around the neighborhood. Oh, I know, fireworks were supposed to be the highlight but it was the games, burgers, dogs, and ice cream that stood out to me.

Plus Dave Righetti's no-hitter in 1983 against the Red Sox.

Those were good days. Days like July 4 and Memorial Day and Labor Day.

Plus everyone seemed to get along.

Happy days, indeed.

Oh, and for what it's worth, despite the division and moaning about this country, I'll still take this as my home. 

*****

Settling in will continue to be a day-to-day thing. In breaking news, we can all rest easy knowing that the Verizon remote controls were found.

Where, you ask? Do you need me to further enhance the notion that I'm a senile clown?

OK, well, they were in the very bag that I brought all of the Verizon equipment in. Then I took them out as I assembled things on Monday. I put them on a shelf out of site as I tried setting up.

And that's where they stayed until I discovered them this morning.

So, yay, except the TV still doesn't work. A call to Verizon will happen eventually.

Beyond that, I moved some things around, beginning to put the living room in a certain amount of how I wanted it to go. I also got the kitchen to the point where I could eat both breakfast and lunch at the table.

And  -- wait! There's more! -- we took the remainder of the Bruce Park items that we picked up last night and took them to the Holly Hill facility (aka "the dump). With an assist from the staff there, we stopped at the proper places to leave old appliances and other things. 

Including a cat tower. Destructocat finally killed it.

We're considering starting a GoFundMe for a new one.

But, seriously, that's an achievement. There were things that had been sitting for years and, with an assist, we were able to go to Holly Hill and take care of it.

Otherwise, tonight is a night to just lay low. Last night opened my eyes to not push it so I'm sitting in my room watching the (moribund) Yankees play the Reds.

I've never forgiven the Reds for 1976 though I've mostly gotten over it.

Probably best to not get me started. Not only do the Yankees stink right now but MLB just continues to prove it needs new leadership that understands the fans as well as the players. I realize jerseys are a whole aesthetic that some don't care about but others do. 

Including me.

In a sport where it's nice and easy to have players wear their own uniforms for the Midsummer Classic, MLB and the overlords at Nike in their infinite wisdom (and pursuit of the almighty dollar) push these abominations on us.

Blech.

Back to the Renegades tomorrow.

Lots of fireworks to be had.

Boom.

The Wall

 

I don't need no frustrating evenings

This was bound to happen.

I'm sunburned and have pain in my calves, back, and now my neck. A stiff neck is not exactly what I needed.

But I have an engine that doesn't shut down easily. I'm more likely to pace or occupy myself in other ways instead of just stopping.

So after a day of being on the phone with Verizon for internet service (partially resolved), going to Walmart for a few needs (a new bat mat, etc), hosting "Doubleheader," going back to Bruce Park to clean and pack up things to take the dump, and a trip to Home Depot, I returned to the new digs.

Sean went upstairs. I went to the kitchen and started unpacking.

And eventually, I slammed into the wall.

I was trying to hang something up and it didn't go well.

I felt like I was running out of cabinets for what I was putting away.

I was just, generally, burned out.

On the plus side, the cat is adjusting well and is currently at my feet as I type.

But the rage that began to build in me was vintage Robert Sr. At that point it's definitely time to stop.

Let me not portray to you that my father was a violent man. He was not. But he got frustrated and his volume would get elevated.

I was getting there.

I suppose some of this was sitting in me all day, going back to the Verizon call.

Verizon was quite helpful during the moving process and assured me that it would simply take plugging my current equipment in to get online.

Internet, for the record, isn't the end all but it's enormously important for what I do. I used my cell phone data to post last night's post.

But I need it to work from home.

Anyway, I plugged in and hoped for the best. I saw promising signs but, well, it didn't work.

So I called this morning. It took a while and I was passed through a few different people.

The internet now works and that's exactly how I'm writing tonight.

But the TV isn't working, in part because we can't...find...the remote... controls.

Yup. That.

So I was patient. Even if I now appear to have not been. I've poured through bags and boxes and it just has not turned up.

Is it here? Yes. I'm positive of that.

Will I find it? I'm certain I will eventually.

And so I have to just keep grinding and stay calm.

And recognize when I've pushed myself too hard.

Like tonight.

Moving Out

(After using a Taylor Swift reference yesterday, Sean chided me for not going with Billy Joe. "It's right there," he said. Even though I've used it before, I'll use it again.)

Four in the morning.

Not for a conference. Not for vacation.

But after anxiousness and impatience climbing out of my skin, it was finally time to move.

I thought maybe I'd get up at 4:30 and start breaking down the last of what was left. But my body had other plans.

Then Rascal decided he wanted to eat. Sleep was over.

I was under the impression that the keys -- the infamous, blasted keys -- were waiting for me in what would soon be my mailbox.

So I pulled some things together and decided I would go investigate. Honestly, I wanted to do it last night but I followed the (apparent) rules of the situation.

And so I walked in at 5 a.m. The keys were indeed in the box and the door was unlocked. I must note that the place was not painted and/or cleaned, despite being told myriad times that it would be a hangup.

I also set about bringing the things that were in my car.

Then I went home where Sean was still asleep.

But Kris and Danny, and eventually Steven and Ethan, would be down to round out our moving team.

We were officially off and running a little after 7. It took three loads in Kris's trailer, plus three vehicles.

They all left around 5. It was painful and sweaty and grueling and all of the things that moving is. 

But it's over.

Mission accomplished, and we couldn't be more grateful.

There was, however, one more thing to get. Poor Rascal. He was terrified, mostly hiding in my closet all day.

Trying to settle into his new home.

Now, before any pet lovers overreact, he has emerged here and is investigating things. He jumped up on my bed at one point, which was a very normal sign.

We're on the right path.

There are still a few things back in Bruce Park, plus we need to turn the keys in, but we'll go back tomorrow and clean that all up.

And there's absolutely no question there's a lot to do. For one, the internet isn't working so I'll have to call Verizon tomorrow and hope to avoid a visit.

With a hopefully pleasant night of sleep ahead, I'm hoping some of the pain I'm in will fade. While I was vigilant about hydrating all day, I had a really hard time with cramps later on. I felt it in my arms and legs and I wasn't a fan.

And my back, as expected. Ouch.

But I stayed aggressive, eventually getting some Gatorade and I'm looking forward to settling down soon.

Once the laundry is done.

Many thanks to everyone for the kind comments and support throughout this process. I was touched by the reaction to my picture with the keys from this morning.

I could do without the number of spam accounts that tried to lure me into whatever but so it goes.

Gideon Fountain -- realtor and radio station boos -- will forever be a hero to me for his assistance through this process. I can't recommend him enough.

Kris, Danny, Ethan, Steven, and Sean (of course) were all rock stars in what was a long day of packing, moving, and maneuvering.

We're in our new home. 

Long may we stay.