captainsblog | Jun. 18th, 2023

It's Father's Day. Check earlier mid-June listings for this journal and you'll see sentiments not in need of repeating: little in the way of good thinking back to my own father, much good thinking back on being one. This year's dawned with louder than usual sounds of the aircraft overhead on their summer diversion course from the airport (a friend reported it's likely to continue until September), with louder still sounds of birdsong as early as 4:30, and with smells indicating the wildfirey cloud of Canada has made a return:

Nice job, hosers:P

So despite getting little in the way of practical paternal training from Dear Old Dud, I spent Father's Eve and the day so far doing actual Dad Things!

- Finished disposal of some ancient shelving in the cellar that had become a crapcatcher in every sense of the word:P

(Don't gross out; that's rust on that shelf. Note also the box for the new shopvac that arrived, once finally not in "CRUSHED IT!" condition, to replace our venerable old Sears Craftsman edition that was probably about Emily's age, which we lovingly named Hymie after the robot CONROL agent on Get Smart.)

- After ordering the replacement for that cellar shelving, I arrived for curbside pickup at Home Despot at 6:02 last night, or two minutes after curbside shut down, but they quickly found the order. Then Eleanor and I assembled the replacement and have it ready to probably outlive me down there.

- Took Pepper on the trail with two friends, each of whom lost their elderly dog in 2022 and now comes with to get a contact high of sorts out of walking with her. Everybody we met today thought she's a boy. But hey, Pride Month, whatever you want to identify as, dog;)

- Finally, mowing and the Mets- the only thing of substance I do credit my father for instilling knowledge, passion and love for.
The team has always had a peculiarly close association with the holiday: when Shea Stadium opened in 1964, its inaugural Father's Day game resulted in Phillies pitcher, and future U.S. Senator Jim Bunning hurling a perfect game against us. only the seventh up to then in MLB history. I can't pin down the year he said it, but Ralph is also immortalized for this malaprop:

Father's Day also often falls very close to June 15th, the longtime baseball trade deadline. It's now not until the end of July, but two of the biggest marks in Mets history fell on that date, six years apart. On June 15, 1977, the team traded Tom Seaver; on that same date in 1983, they traded for Keith Hernandez. Their 17 and 41 are now immortalized in the rafters of the new park-

-along with a microphone for good ol' Ralph off to the right of them-

In OnlyTheMets fashion, this afternoon they came back from multiple deficits to enter the ninth tied at 7-7, only to lose it in the ninth. I ordered a talking bobblehead of their recently inducted radio announcer Howie Rose from a friend who was there the night they handed them out; it arrived yesterday, but I will not take it out of the box until I hear him say live the five words on the chip. We've gone 3-11 since his induction, and either he or I missed the final out of those three wins, so he may be sucking cardboard for a while before I get to hear, either way:

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The kid may call. She may not. Last weekend lasted well into today, far as I'm concerned ❤️ It's a much bigger deal with her mom, but I think it is less of one now that we had the immersive and amazin' experience with her at and around Allentown.