Chapter 85: Thoughts During a Vacation Rain Storm

Earlier today, while measuring my ark cubit by cubit, I was thinking about spring. There are lots of aspects to the season. Baseball, as usual, is toward the top. Love also, though I don't know that spring really has cornered the market on that. I've enjoyed snuggling down on a cold winter's night, summer romances, and fall... No, love pretty much sucks in the fall.

Anyway, spring brings with it a bucket load of change. But like most change, you don't really feel it until after the change has occurred. A couple weeks ago, it still felt wintry enough, with snow and chill and stomping of feet. But the tell-tale signs of spring were there if you looked.

For example, the sun has been still visible when I get out of work. This practically never happens during the winter. But just last week, some friends and I walked in sunlight to a relatively nearby pub for our first-ever post-work, pre-season softball team pep rally (basically, an excuse to get together for a couple pints with people who we'll be spending time with over the next few spring and summer months).

And St. Patrick's Day is nearly upon us, which is another sure sign of spring. St. Patrick's Day is that special day when a bunch of people decide to insult everyone of Irish heritage by claiming that since they've had five pints of Guinness they're actually Irish, despite the vowels and collection of Ys and Zs at that end their names. No, that just means you're drunk. And that's fine; I don't hold that against anyone. Most of the time.

As someone of Irish descent — who learned how American I am by going to school in Ireland for a semester of college — I find spring and St. Patrick's Day to be kinda special. Like I said earlier, it's a time of transition. I used to be a summer person. But at this point in my life, I like a good mudslide, a mild rainstorm (not like this windy crap that's tormenting me now), and a nice week off to try to relax.

For what it's worth, a portion of my relaxation will take place on Tuesday, when a buddy of mine and I head over to the Diamond Bar in Brooklyn to enjoy a night of mayhem with Zane Lamprey (which must be a madeup name), author of Three Sheets: Drinking Made Easy. So if anyone in the neighborhood feels like enjoying a little spring break adult style, feel free to join me. I'll be the guy with the leather trench coat and all-season beard.

What does that have to do with change? Well, I don't usually go out now that I'm the father of a pair of beautiful ankle biters. Especially without the wife. So this is a sign that the world is in transition. More certain than the destruction of the planet in 2012, I will be enjoying a pint on Tuesday night. Maybe even two. Can spring be far behind?

Chapter 75: A Decade of Publishing?

While I was home yesterday, enjoying a planned, post-birthday day off, an unexpected package arrived. I didn't recognize the sender, which was based in Michigan, and I assumed it was a birthday gift that someone had neglected to mention.

But when I opened the box, I realized that this was something different -- albeit not at all inappropriate for the time. Inside, tucked within poppable blister wrap, was Ireland and the Americas, the three-volume encyclopedia of all things Irish-American. Aside from arriving the day after St. Patrick's Day, why is this significant? Because three of the entries were written by me!

While it often takes years between a finished draft and actual publication of a novel, that is certainly the case with encyclopedias, which need to be fact-checked and carefully scrutinized. After all, they'll sit on library shelves for decades. I wrote these entries at least three years ago -- it may have even been in late 2004.

I was originally asked to write about the Irish-American influence on baseball. For those who aren't aware, Irish Americans (and several American Irish) were the first superstars of baseball. Michael "King" Kelly was once the wealthiest player in the game (making less than what many of today's superstars make per inning), and there was a reason why it was Mighty Casey who was playing for Mudville in Ernest Thayer's famous poem. It's the same reason "Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake." These guys were Irish.

Alas, Mighty Casey eventually struck out, but not before the Irish Americans started to dominate the managerial ranks. I wrote another entry about Irish-American managers, and one about Ned Hanlon. Hanlon was both a successful manager and credited with several innovations that fans take for granted today. I offered to write about Hanlon's proteges, John McGraw and Connie Mack, but they were already written.

But back to my original point, this has been a wonderful week already. I've marked another decade of life with a newly published work, and before the next ten years are out I hopefully will have a couple novels published. And soon the 2008 baseball season will begin. I can hardly wait!

Chapter 60.63: Something Different

I've been ill most of this week, battling a cold that has left me depleted and dejected. So I think a little Irish music and memories of good times are in order. I can't offer you the music, but know that this night was a lot of fun. Hope you had a good time on St. Patrick's Day two months ago. This shot on the left is of the band we were seeing that day -- a longtime friend (old-looking guy on the left) who is always fun, even though he's hard-pressed to actually play the correct note on his bass guitar. The photo on the right includes one of my brothers (old-looking guy on the left) and I (on the right, with the tongue sticking out) with my wife. I suspect my brother won't be happy with this shot being on the Internet. So it goes....