Mojo was up to bat.  He was hesitant.  In two previous games he was hit by a pitch.  Both times he took his base but paid the price with a big bruise.  The first in the middle of his back, the second on his inner thigh.  He was on deck watching the pitcher throw one bad pitch after another.  The fear became more acute with each bad pitch he watched.  His teammate walked.   It was his turn to enter the batter’s box.  I watched from the bleachers to see him take his turn at the plate.  Mojo was not moving fast. In fact he was barely moving at all.  He had tears in his eyes. 

A fellow parent in the stands said, “that is your son, isn’t it?”  “Yes,” I replied.  The caring father said “He was hit by a pitch last game, wasn’t he?”  “Yes, and the game before too.”  The parents talked about how hard it must be for him to take his turn at bat.  Next, we see Mojo’s Dad leave his post as third base coach.  He motions “time out” to the umpire and approaches Mojo.  They have a private father/son chat as we all look on.  Mojo stands tall then enters the batter’s box.  Dad returns to third base.  The first two pitches are balls.  I am nervous and worried that he will be hit again.  I hold my breath wondering if he will give up baseball if he gets hit a third time in as many games.  He swings at the next pitch and hits a hard ground ball up the third base line.  It quickly goes past the third baseman and Mojo easily reaches first base.  I let out my breath thanking the baseball gods for helping him face his fears.  Mojo is not done.  With the assistance of a few passed balls, he stole second, then third, then home!  His team went on to win by one run that night.

At home after the game we share a celebratory ice cream.  I tell Mojo how proud I am of him for facing his fears.  Mojo looks up at me with his beautiful eyes, with lashes any super model would covet, and he says, “Dad told me that if I didn’t get up there and hit the ball he was going to sign me up for ballet lessons.”

I distinctly remember the first swine flu scare in the 1970s.  I was about 11 year old. 

There was a mandate that all people, young and old, receive a swine flu vaccination.  The shots were offered at the local high school.  We stood in a LONG line that started outside on a hot summer Michigan day.  We stood in line for hours.  As we approached the front of the line, there were murmurs that they were running out or the vaccines and we may or may not get a shot that day.  Somewhat apprehensive that we had wasted so much time in that awful line, we finally made it into the makeshift clinic and saw the multiple cubicles with sheets separating the families to simulate privacy. 

Finally it was our turn.  We entered our assigned sheet walled cubicle where we were met by a nurse.  We answered many questions about our medical history and our current health and then . . . we got our shots.  We walked out of the cubicle and I felt dizzy.  Next thing I know, I had my first whiff of smelling salts.  I was told that I turned white and feel into the arms of a handsome volunteer doctor.   My Mom was very proud of me for my excellent timing.

Anyone else out there have any memories from the swine flu scare in the ’70s?

At breakfast club with Alto2, Belle and another boy mom, we discussed the need to have “the talk” with our boys.  I thought about it more that day and Alto2 e-mailed a great article on the subject.  My 10 year old had some trouble falling asleep on Saturday night.  We were the only ones up.  Primed with fresh information and gumption, I figured I would broach the subject.  I started, “You know, your getting older and soon your body will start changing.”  His eyes said, “What are you talking about?”  I continued, “For instance, you will start getting hair on your legs, under your arms, all over, just like Dad.”  He looked at me funny.  I asked him if he had any questions, he inquired, “Can I get a cell phone soon?”  I said, “Don’t count on it!”  . . . tucked him in . . . gave him a kiss on the forehead and said, “Good Night.”  I’d say that went well.

Tonight my alma mater has a shot at the national title in basketball.  To do my part I am baking a green cake.  I will use white icing and put a big sugary S on top.  I am not sure that it will make the difference between a win or a loss, but it should taste great.  So far it smells great!

My boys are thrilled at this idea.  My husband is bummed that I didn’t make a blue and orange cake when his UF Gators played in their multiple national championship games.  He is right, making a blue cake with orange icing never crossed my mind.  That sounds disgusting.  If the Spartans win tonight, I will have to start getting used to the idea.  I am sure that the team cake will become a tradition!

My husband has been having a stressful time of it at work lately.  The one thing that clears his mind is fishing.  Yesterday morning I called him on his cell phone and told him that the boys both had a baseball practice Saturday, that there was no need for both of us to go to their practices, and that I thought he should just go fishing.  He asked me at least 4 times during the day if I was sure that I was fine with him going.  I assured him that I had everything under control.  He seemed more relaxed just knowing that he was going to go fishing the next day.  He invited only one friend to join him, a friend that helped out and did not need to be entertained.  My plan was working.

Off they went this morning.  As I was arriving at baseball practice #1, my cell phone rang.   It was Fisherman.  There had been an incident.  Not too bad.  They had stopped for gas and supplies.  Somehow, the friend closed the van door on Fisherman’s head.  It knocked him to the ground, and there was a lot of blood. 

One trip to Urgent Care, three staples later and two of them went fishing!  Mission accomplished.

Tomorrow the whole family is going out in the boat for a pleasure trip another family from Michigan.  Hopefully without any incidents!

Happy Valentines Day!

Happy Birthday Mojo!

I am working on a very large transaction at work.  As part of the work, I hired a contractor (who was recommended by another lawyer in town) to give an expert opinion on a small part of the matter.  Her report was to be accompanied by pictures.  I got the opinion today and she provided the pictures . . . get this  . . . on floppy disks.  To be sure you know what I am talking about, I mean these:

We do not have any computers at my office that will read or write data to or from floppy disks.  I am shocked that in 2009, a professional in my industry is still using a computer that does not at least write to a CD. 

Do any of you have floppy disk drives at home or work?  Am I being a snob here?  Please comment.  I need to know!

After being tagged on Facebook by my high school boy friend’s then best friend, I added 25 Random Things About Me to my Facebook Notes.  This is lifted from there.  I am taking after LSMwho thought to turn her list into a blog post.  Like her, I do not plan to tag any one, but I would enjoy reading 25 things about you.

1. I tend to follow the rules and am often bothered when others do not. Perhaps it is an occupational hazard.
2. I began learning how to play the violin at the age of 38, when my then 4 ½ year old son decided he wanted to take lessons. I am now in Book 2 of the Suzuki violin repertoire. (Do not look for me in an orchestra any time soon!)
3. I was the first member of my family to get a post graduate degree.
4. I am a Florida Bar Board Certified Real Estate Attorney.
5. I can operate a lift truck. (It is always good to have a back up plan.)
6. I won my first (and only) golf tournament (low gross and low net) the first year I learned to play in the summer before fourth grade by scoring a 31 for 3 holes!
7. My favorite dessert is the Melting Hot Chocolate Soufflé at Roy’s.
8. If it were not for good friends who were there for me and my family in our time of need, I have no doubt my Mother would have died in June of 2004. I am thankful to them everyday and repay the favor by being there for others when they need me.
9. I was a resident assistant in college.
10. I rarely buy clothes or shoes that are not on sale.
11. Being on a boat in the 10,000 islands with my family relaxes me.
12. The first thing I do after I check into a hotel is fill up the ice bucket in my room.
13. I listen to a lot of talk radio. My kids say that is why I get stopped at so many traffic lights.
14. I had my first child when I was 34, and my second when I was 36.
15. My Dad grows pineapples in his yard and they are the best pineapples I have ever tasted.
16. I got married on a sailboat at sunset.
17. I miss my Grandma.
18. I am a keeper, but I hope to wake up one day and throw or give almost everything I own away and live a minimalist life thereafter.
19. I have lots of friends that are older than I am. They teach me so much.
20. I helped coached the under 12 Georgia State Champions when I was in law school even though I had never played soccer before.
21. I am a free market fiscal conservative and a social moderate.  The closest label for me is probably Liberatarian.
22. I have been asked to run for public office, but have no interest in being a politician.
23. I love playing cards.
24. Without my girlfriends, I would probably be nuts.
25. My family means the world to me.

There are two types of people, those that buy lottery tickets and those that don’t.  I am the kind that doesn’t.  Fisherman is the kind that does.  I tend to think it is a waste of money, but I keep my mouth shut because I appreciate that he is an optimist and, face facts, if he wins, the money is half mine. 

Last Wednesday, he came home sick from work.  He had a fever of 102 and went to bed early.  About 10PM he can into the family room and said, “I gotta go buy a lottery ticket.” 

This is not unusual.  He has gotten out of bed many times, gotten dressed and drove to the closest convenience store just in the nick of time to buy a ticket, or two or five, many times before.  I took pity on him and offered to go for him . . .

“Do you want me to go for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll go.”

“But you are sick, let me go for you.”

“No, I will go.”

“You are going to infect all people in your path.”

“Yes.”

“You think you are luckier than me don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“If you are so much luckier than me, why haven’t we won yet?”

<pause>

“I married you didn’t I?”

“Good point, better hurry!”

I have the opportunity to attend many condominium association meetings.  Each association is required to have at least one members’ meeting each year; i.e., the “annual meeting.”  In my town, these annual tongue lashings happen January through April.  It is the time of year when the unhappy dissidents come out of their units on their annual pilgrimage to the neighborhood clubhouse so they can complain bitterly to the handful of owners who vounteer  their time to serve on the Board of Directors. 

Here is a sampling of the people that I will undoubtedly run into again this year (the names have been changed to protect the innocent – meaning me so I do not get sued):

• Mr. Pseudo-Lawyer:  This man comes armed with both the relevant statutes and the irrelevant statutes.  He has not read them all or at least does not understand them completely.  He knows enough to be dangerous.  He has watched many lawyer shows on TV and thinks that he can cross examine as well as any seasoned litigator.  He usually has a couple of specific issues that he is worked up about and will not let them rest until he has had his Perry Mason moment.  Somehow, that moment never comes.
• Vicky Victim:  This is usually a widowed woman, but could be a man, who has violated the rules and got caught.  It could have been that year or 10 years ago.  Regardless of when the offense occurred, she needs to tell her story and try to get the other owners to feel sorry for her so her violation can continue. 
• The Giggle Gaggle.  This is a group of women that sit together and whisper to each other.  They have flashbacks to middle school as they roll their eyes in disapproval at the speaker and giggle at inappropriate times.
• Parliamentarian Paul.  He thinks he knows Robert’s Rules of Order and can’t believe that every one else does not.  He raises points of order and makes people repeat their motions just for effect.  No one knows whether he is correct in his rantings, because few people have actually read Robert’s Rules of Order.
• Mean Michael.  This is the guy who goes on and on about all of the terrible or “illegal” things that the Board had done or has not done.  In his eyes no one can do things as well as he does or as well as they did things where he comes from.  Yet when he is asked to assist or to do it himself, he can not be bothered.  His time is too valuable, even though he is retired.   He is likely to be booed and jeered by others in the room (think here Giggle Gaggle).  This guy does not care when he is booed.  It makes his day.
• Big Mouth Bertha:  This woman is in her 60’s, but no one has pointed that out to her.  She still thinks she is in her 20’s and dresses the part.  She wears mini skirts, and I mean very mini skirts.  She will have to stand periodically to yank her skirt down as it rides up her rear while she squirms in her chair.  She can not keep her mouth shut.  She feels the need to audibly react to things that others say during the meeting.  She gives long speeches on all agenda items and makes little sense in the course of her discourse.  She sits in the front row and the whole time she speaks the folks at the head table pray that she keeps her legs crossed or at least closed.  They do not want to know whether or not she is wearing undergarments.

So, if you are a member of a condominium or homeowner association, go to your annual meeting.  There are not enough regular people there to be spectators at the condo commando circus.