This weekend was supposed to be my first tournament with the A-listers. I was getting pumped up, preparing to vomit before the first game, laying out my lucky socks and t-shirts. I rented a car for the purpose of transporting my body and gear there and back. I was about to rock a Dodge Neon, hard core.
But, as they say, the best laid plans…
Long story. Not worth telling.
Anyway. Here is the part where you rally. I have started to think that The Rally is probably my favorite part of life. Take last night for instance. I was supposed to have dinner with my best friend and pal-o-pals, Mr Joshy Head, but circumstances worked against us, and though I rode my bike into the north to meet him, we ended up having to cancel.
Sure, I was bummed. I don’t see him that much. I was looking forward to it. But I got back on my bike, returned to my office, and found that there was one of my most favoritist beers on the whole planet in the fridge. I sat down to enjoy it and had a good conversation with Matt and Bill, whom I adore equally.
Then I thought, “This is where you rally.”
So, I worked late into the night and then finally jumped on my bike again, in my dark jeans with big cuffs, and pushed my 54 all the way home in the pouring rain. It was 11:45pm when Biddy met me at the door with sleep, winky, kitty eyes. I gave him soft food and then we curled up together on flannel sheets and slept like little angels.
A cancelled softball tournament calls for a much bigger rally, however.
I was picking up the phone to cancel the rental car and suddenly put the receiver down. I’m keeping the rental. Roadtrip.
I’m heading North to see my sweet sister and her little tribe. I’m heading even further North into Seattle to see the progress Ethan and Annie have made on their recently purchased home in Ballard. I’m going to visit my favorite boutique in Fremont and probably drop some cash.
Then it’s East into the mountains to the cabin where my crazy mother will be waiting with beef stew and too many kisses. I’ll dig trenches or chop firewood for fun. We’ll watch movies that I’ve already seen a million times and I’ll sleep in a twin bed.
But first? Rocky Votolato and William Elliot Whitmore at the Hawthorne Theater?
You bet your ass.
Put your rally caps on, people!
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