Of Ties and Tailgating

Excerpts from “Project X”Miles 234-728, East Bethel. MN to Madison, WI It had been a very warm September week in East Bethel, MN for the first two weeks of our self-imposed exile from the world and slowly but surely we began to figure out what we needed and what we didn’t need in “Big Bird” our 34 foot land-yacht. We didn’t need three cats. We need individual storage buckets for underneath and we needed a longer sewage hose. We need to lock a very friendly cat in the bathroom in the middle of night or that would be the end of sleep. We need to move our rig the next time we come here to try to get satellite television due to a misplaced tree. I also need an eastern screech owl but I didn’t need a barred owl, which, it seemed was almost as bad as Snowball the cat at night. Our last week in paradise we went to a baseball game in Minneapolis and I started to think, we needed a better team. In 31 baseball games since 1977, I had never seen the Twins beat the hated (or loved) Yankees at home. I was 0-31. It was a painful, three stadiums of memories. I had seen Reggie Jackson smack a monster homerun off the red scoreboard in right back in 1977 and then take a curtain call from the Twins faithful late in a game when I was 11 and then later, I saw Roger Clemons make one of his many “last starts” to beat up the Twinks and this year, my boys lost 7-2 in a very uninspired game. The Twins fielded a team in September that consisted of 9 players that combined had hit 32 homeruns, one less than Giancarlo Stanton, the newest Yankee slugger that had hit 33 by himself. Even the umps wanted to go home. In the seventh inning, he called a Twin batter out after a called second strike. That is not something you see every day. Even the Yankee catcher stood and patted the ump on the shoulder, after the batter looked confused at his early retirement. The ump reversed his call and two pitches later, a soft line drive made the out “official.” The next night, we went to Hamilton. In some sort of technical problem, the doors remained closed for almost an hour while we felt like cattle stuck in a slaughterhouse. Then we were let in to a performance by understudies and fill in talent. It wasn’t a bad performance, but for $200, I expected more. Alexander Hamilton was a self-righteous man who traded moving the capital to the South for nothing. He claimed the moral high ground except that he was more immoral than most, having affairs and leading to his son’s death by dual, before his own. Aaron Burr was not any better and in some respects, both should have never left that New Jersey field alive back in the day. The dual should have been a tie where both lost. I guess, it was something to do and oddly, the night we were at the play a few blocks from Target Field, the Twins beat up on the Yankees and the night before our night at the Orpheum, Hamilton was played by their main cast….oh well, the story of my life. Our final weekend in camp featured a deck party hosted by us on our new "deck", that featured 50 guests and then on Sunday we sat on a neighbor’s deck to root for our side of the battle of the North, Packers versus Vikings.







Project X 9/17/201839. Wild Turkey40. Red-headed woodpecker
Published on September 18, 2018 09:14
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