4 October 2014
Hearing the neighbor's television broadcasting Saturday evening's college football game. I heard the sportscasters take a break to bring the audience up to date on the baseball scores. I was taken back to this time many years ago in seventh or eighth grade, junior high school, at a time when one was trying to determine who one was and what was going to be important to them. I knew what baseball was, but was never that good at it. I thought maybe I would be a fan. But no matter how much I managed to stay up on the most currant scores, it never held much for me. Those who memorized stats and records, finding out the score part way through the game during study hall, or hearing who just won the game after school. I just couldn't get any internal motion going over it. They were just numbers telling about a game, nothing more.
Its funny how during those times we try to assume a persona that we think might be the thing that will set us apart,or at least give us some thing to differentiate us from everyone else. I was not really cut out to be a sports fan or even a commentator for that matter. I just never had the flair for it no matter how much I tried to put myself into it. I didn't have a favorite ball glove, or the hat, curved just so with the most cavalier, rakish slouch to impart that just so look of practiced ease and disregard that said “cool” whenever it was worn. No, I never had those things or any of the other stuff that went along with being a sports fan.
I spent my time in the woods, listening to the trees speak in that voice that few could hear. I spent time watching squirrels, chipmunks, birds and the forest denizens. I watched the way the clouds told of weather to come, the invisible winds blowing that were unseen, except for the things they moved about. I heard the symphony of the night sky coming from the Milky Way, when it seemed no one else listened. I noticed the poets listened but not many people seemed to care. The sounds of secrets told, that had been revealed to those who listen, but few do. The world was so rich and so unsought, but it was magical to me. It still is.
I need to get out more.