Okay, so I really didn’t question whether I made the wrong choice on a school, but in contrast, the college I attended fell into the “rinky dink” category while for everyone except UT alumni and fans, A&M is in a league all their own. The university I attended didn’t even have a football team, much less an impressive stadium.
Actually, in the past couple of days, I’m discovering that even though I’ve never questioned the likelihood that the sun will rise in the east and set in the west, I’m not sure what is happening to my world. Things that have always been predictably consistent in my life are failing to be so for me. This week has been a week of new experiences that serve as a contradiction to the consistently predictable.
For starters, with the exception of my grandchildren’s games, I’ve been boycotting baseball since I was nine-years-old. It’s a long story, so I won’t take the time to explain. Actually, it isn’t really a long story. Simple truth – I didn’t have the skill set to make the team. How’s that for transparency? We live in world of winners and losers and with me on the team there wasn’t a snowball’s chance of winning. I wasn’t good enough to be on the First State Bank Little League Team.
Okay, so if I’ve been boycotting baseball for 63 years, why did I find myself in front of the television this week missing perfectly good HGTV programs to devote the time to watch the World Series? Okay, so maybe it was the overdose of sunshine on Saturday during the football game at Kyle Field? My face is still pretty red, and it takes a lot to embarrass me. Obviously, it has to be the sunburn. Could the grilled face have scrambled my brains and minimized my memory of the boycott against baseball?
Could it be something else? Okay, so I’ve heard that women go through the change. Is there one for men? Last week, I would have considered it torture to be forced to watch a baseball game on television. This week, I’m glued to the television. Truth really is stranger than fiction.
For that matter, I stayed up way past my bedtime last night watching the General Manager of the Washington Nationals get ejected from the game for behaving like a two-year-old having a temper tantrum. I suspect it was not his finest moment. Okay, so maybe he had just cause? Seriously??? Even if he was right to be upset at the referee’s call, his performance didn’t set a good example for his grandchildren (or for mine either, for that matter).
It was during the game that Jake, our ten-year-old grandson, telephoned the General. Are you ready for this? He had been looking at her cell phone usage and had some issues he wanted to discuss with her. How parental is that?
Of course, I only heard the General’s responses to Jake’s questions. He was calling to ensure corrective action was taken. What kind of role reversal is that? Like I said, there is no denying it, a ten-year-old providing redirection to his aging grandmother seemed out of sync. On the other hand, if he could influence her behavior, he is a step ahead of me.
Reportedly, Jake had looked at data surrounding eight telephone calls the General had initiated or engaged in while she was driving. In her “goodie-two-shoes” persona, the General assured him that she doesn’t talk on the telephone while she is driving. Seriously, she’s telling the truth. Even with a hands-free device, Goodie-Two-Shoes doesn’t talk on the phone while she’s driving. She thinks that falls into the category of distracted driving.
Talk about a double standard! When the General is riding with me, she is talking a mile a minute. She is telling me to pay closer attention, slow down, speed up, turn left, turn right, etc. Does she not understand that she is putting me in a distracted driver’s category?
The General didn’t seem at all upset that Jake was looking at records describing the length of her telephone calls. From the General’s perspective, Jake was looking at reliable data. During those eight telephone calls, there was also indication of multiple fast accelerations in her vehicle and a host of abrupt stops. The General didn’t question the data, she explained it to him by pointing the accusing finger in my direction.
She owned being on the telephone, but she maintained that she wasn’t driving. Consequently, the multiple fast accelerations and host of abrupt stops were orchestrated by Granddad. She was simply minding her own business by talking on the phone. Like a damsel in distress, she credited me with the things that were of concern to our ten-year-old grandson.
So how did the General get the App on her phone that coincides with that on my grandson’s cell phone or his parents for that matter? First of all, regardless of where she got the App, I see it as a major invasion of privacy. I don’t need a ten-year-old counting the times I accelerate or suddenly stop. For that matter, I don’t want either of his parents to have that information either. Seriously, they might tell my wife.
If I find that someone has put that same App on my cellphone, my behavior will closely resemble last night’s behavior of the National’s team manager. It won’t be my finest moment!
All My Best!
Don