The Hazard Chronicles

This has been, overall, a relaxing week. We drove all day last Sunday, spent the night in the car at a rest stop, and continued on our way on Monday morning. We pulled into our driveway at about 11:00 on Monday morning. The kids were great for the whole trip and are very good travelers.

Total trip distance (Google Maps): 3,177 miles

Total time spent in car (Google Maps): 54.5 hours

Reading on our car odometer: 196, 906

Amazing time with family and friends: Priceless

Before we got home we had discussed the possibility of a Washington D.C. trip for this week but we thought we might be pushing our luck with the kids and everything, so instead we decided to stay home and do some spring cleaning and relaxing before school started up again. We have loved the new bike trailer and have taken the kids out pretty much every day on bike rides to the various parks in the area. Can I just say that we have some really cool parks around here? I’ll have to do a blog post about them one of these days when we don’t have much else to write about.

We also decided to get a splash park swimming pool thing exactly like the one that Haley (my sister) has. We actually brought her to the store with us when we were at her house to make sure we got the right one. It is a hit! Evelyn and all of her little friends love it. It is also nice to be able to have something in our back yard that will keep Evelyn’s attention so that she doesn’t go wandering out. Oh, to have a fenced-in yard! That is how we will know that we have really made it.

Now I am going to tell a sad story from my childhood. Bear with me because it ties into an even that happened later this week.

When I was 9 years old I signed up for little league baseball and I was super excited for it to start. I convinced myself that I would be a great pitcher. I went to the library and checked out books on pitching technique and I poured over them at night time before I went to bed. I set up bowling pins in the back yard and practiced throwing the ball so that I could knock them over. At night time I moved the pins into the garage so I could keep practicing. I remember buying a new baseball glove and oiling it every night so that it would be good and broken-in for the season. I was pretty much as excited as a 9 year old kid could be about something.

Well, the day finally came and the coach put us through various drills to determine what position we would play. When the fateful moment arrived I was sure that I would become the star pitcher. But it was not meant to be. Instead, the pitching position was given to none other than the coaches own son. I was put out in left field- which to a 9 year old is commonly known as the “loser position.” I would be lucky to see any action at all.

Sadly, this story is not over yet. I went to the practices and I decided that I would be the best outfielder ever. I remember my hero was Jose Canseco, not because he was a designated hitter, but because he was an outfielder that people knew about. My dad even took me to an Oakland A’s game so that I could see him play.

Anyway, my first real game finally came. Our team was first up to bat. I took my stance and was ready for the ball. The pitch was thrown- and it hit me right in the chest, knocking the wind out of me and leaving a fairly large bruise. It hurt, and I think I might have even cried a little bit- definitely not cool, and definitely not a good start to a baseball career. It was also then that I realized that if I never swung the bat that I would never strike out since all of the 9 year old pitchers threw more balls than they did strikes. I also reasoned that I would never score any home runs, but that is the price to pay for a sure thing. Indeed, I never swung, and I always got at least to first base. Every time. And it was boring.

When our team was in the field I took my place, but soon realized that I would never see any action. Truthfully, I probably could have taken a seat on the bench every time we were out and not affected the outcome of the game in the least. I was not a dumb kid and I realized that I wasn’t really playing baseball, but instead acting as a space-filler on our team.

And then the day came. I was in the outfield contemplating walking away from the game and seeing if anyone would notice when a fly ball came right in my direction. It was high and everyone was looking at me to make the play. Sure enough I moved under the ball and put my glove up just like I had practiced. This ball was mine. And then I heard it fall, and I looked, and there it was about 20 feet in front of me. Apparently the ball had suddenly changed direction midflight and I was left in the outfield, standing with my glove in the air waiting for a ball that wouldn’t come, as the third baseman ran back to pick it up off the ground.

That is the last thing I remember about baseball before I decided it was a dumb game that was too slow for real athletes and I focused my attention else ware. I honestly don’t think I have put on a baseball glove ever again since I was 9.

That was a sad story, wasn’t it? I was so excited for something and it ended up being a totally pathetic experience. I’m sure that many of us have our own similar stories (I hope), and now I am about to make my point. See, I learned through this experience to empathize with people who are let down by their high expectations that are shattered by reality. And that is why I feel so bad for Rachel right now.

Rachel loves yard sales. She has wanted to have one for a long time. As for me, I’d rather just give away or throw away the junk that we don’t need, and because of my unsupportive attitude we have never ever had a garage sale of our own.

Well, Rachel finally decided she would do one on her own. She has spent weeks planning this thing. She has gone digging through our stuff and scrubbing things and making signs and everything. She called up friends to see if they wanted to participate. She put ads on the internet. She was excited.

Well, like my baseball career, I don’t think her garage sale was meant to be. First of all, it turns out that she accidently put the ads up for the wrong date. We had a lot of people driving by on Friday asking where the garage sale was. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until Saturday.

On Saturday when she did have the garage sale up there were no people coming by. I think that she saw about 5 customers in as many hours. Some of her friends came over to keep her company and I think that she at least had fun talking with them. But it was disappointing. Seriously, I think she is heartbroken over this, and I feel bad for her because I know what that feels like. She was so excited, and the whole thing pretty much bombed.

Later that night we went over across the street to our friend’s house where they were hosting a backyard BBQ. A lot of people were there and we had fun catching up on each other’s summers. To me this is what summer time is all about; there was a pool for the kids, and good food and company for the grown-ups. I’d say that is pretty much the definition of a good summer evening.