Last night, I dreamed I met a girl who was trapped in time.

For her, it was the 1966 World Series between Baltimore and Los Angeles.

She had a crush on one of the players, but didn't know his name and couldn't move on until she knew it.

All she knew was that he hit .286 during the Series.

So today I looked up the '66 Series.

The Baltimore Orioles swept the L.A. Dodgers 4-0.

The best hitter for the Dodgers hit only .231 that series.

TWO players for the Orioles hit .286 - Davey Johnson (who a few years later managed the N.Y. Mets to a World Series title

and Series MVP Frank Robinson.

Seeing as how Frank was (by far) the better looking of the two, I figured it had to have been him.

I only hope I can relay the name to her in my dreams.

~

Last night I dreamed I was driving in a terrible snow storm.

Roads were barely passable and there were two huge snowplows coming up behind me.

I thought I was going to be run off of the road, when at the last moment they stopped and let me go on.

I crossed a set of east - west running railroad tracks and was surprised.

Across the tracks there was no snow at all, only a light misty rain and I saw the temperature was 57 degrees.

As usual, before I could find out why all of this was happening, I woke up.

The mind is a truly mysterious thing.

~

I have scars, physical and mental.

You don't live as many years as I have without obtaining a few of both.

The mental scars add up. I have a knack for obtaining new ones, especially after I have dealt with old ones.

It's a part of life.

The physical scars have luckily remained the same for a few years now.

I have an inch long scar on my chin from falling off a bicycle when I was ten.

I have scars around both knees -

one is sport related, the other from a car wreck.

The scar at the corner of my eye is from the same wreck.

The list could go on and on, but the point I'm making is this:

We all have scars.

Some show, some don't.

If you don't have any scars, you haven't lived.

~

If you found yourself in a room alone with a very attractive member of the opposite sex who didn't speak a word of English,

how would you communicate with them?

I suppose you could raise your hand and say hi or hello,

but what next?

?

Prices go up and down.

It's the basic economic truth:

Supply is low and demand high, prices go up.

Supply is high and demand low, prices go down.

Gasoline and food prices are slowly going down.

That's all fine,

BUT

when are the prices going to go down for bon bons?

~

Tuesday I unfriended a long time (over 50 years) on FB.

We came from similar backgrounds, starting out with very little.

His step-mother got him a local franchise with a national chain of custom blinds and draperies 45 years ago and he became quite wealthy.

I have always been happy for him that he 'made it', but it changed him.

For several years now, the only time I ever see him is when he comes by to show off his newest car. I tried repeatedly to get him to just come by and hang out or go out and have a beer, but he always refused. His wife even told me she'd like him to go out somewhere with me, but no good.

Lately, he started sending me right wing literature and making fun of Democrats (nasty, untrue stuff) in messenger on FB.

I reminded him that we made an agreement not to discuss politics in the '70s.

It didn't work.

I asked him to stop sending me these things.

It didn't work.

I told him to stop sending the stuff.

He sent more and called me stupid for not agreeing with him.

So, I unfriended him.

As with a couple of other old drinking buddies, I found that as the years go by, you find out that all you really had in common was drinking.

A bit sad to have to do it,

but life goes on.

~

He's done it again:



Well done, I say!

I broke one of the sides of my reading glasses frames.

So I went old school and taped it with masking tape.

It should hold until I plop down another 6 or 7 bucks for some new ones.

It's not about style.

~

There's an ancient song titled 'I Want a girl Just Like the Girl Who Married Dear Old Dad'.

Yes, my mother was a great mom. Beautiful, too.

She cooked, cleaned, did laundry (and taught my sister and I how to do all that) and worked a full time job.

She and my father had an active sex life, too. I learned as a youngster that if their bedroom door was shut not to walk in.

So, maybe I should have done like the song said and not wasted my time chasing (as my grandfather would have called them) 'floozies'.

I had a lot of fun with those floozies,

but on retrospect, I'd have been more content in the long run with a gal who made me happy like dear old mom.

Freudian?

Maybe.

Who knows or cares?

Contentment is what matters most.

~

The old adage:

'It's not the heat, it's the humidity'

is exactly right today.

High of 85 degrees,

but humidity is 77%,

making it feel like the 90s outdoors.

Come on, fall!

~