Rides

Sunday 8/2/26

"...which he vehemently denies..."

That's usually the play, right?

You'll often find that someone accused of doing something they didn't do will do something different than just vehemently denying it.

The more someone waves their finger--literally or metaphorically--the less they usually know or the more they're trying to keep hidden.

The CVS on Hanover doesn't have Halloween items out yet, which amounts to a mild disappointment for me.

It makes me sad when I see people whose social media pages are nothing but but photos of themselves. Sad in the despairing for humanity way. That's a kind of sadness that also brings anger with it. An anger born of needlessness. We don't have to be this way. These vapid creatures of minimum effort. It's like our lack of interest in anything is this negative force that is channeled into an over-interest in our uninteresting selves. Our uninteresting, unvaried selves.

Yes, unvaried selves. That's a good way to put it.

People must have some strange conversations. "Take a photo of me pretending to be deep in thought. Okay, let me see it. No. Do another."

If you pay attention, you'll see that people struggle to discuss anything at all. They aren't able to say anything about any topic. What they end up doing instead is ticking off stock adjectives, which they equate with discussing, say, a song. But they can't discuss the song.

Look at it this way: Could you take what you've said and imagine it in some piece about the song for people to read? You saying, "It's brilliant, it's great, it's literally the GOAT," wouldn't work. If you say to someone, "You haven't discussed it," they get angry, or confused, or both. They also equate number of words used with saying something. But you can use many words and say nothing at all. Certainly nothing specific to that thing.

The key word conceptually is "about." As in, talking about a given thing. About it. That means just it. So those words shouldn't be words that could also be flown into a conversation about something else. People don't know what "about" really means. They also don't speak--or think--in terms of ideas.

Professional writing is the same. Look at nearly anyone trying to write about music. They can't write about that actual music. How the music functions. The can just do adjective strings. You won't hear the music any differently after reading what they had to say about it. You won't understand it any better. You won't have a greater understanding of how it works and why.

One of the best things a parent can do for a child is help them be interested in things. If you don't have interests that are personal to you as a child, you're unlikely to be an adult who does either. It's not impossible. But the difference is that the person who learns to be interested in things--that become thought of as their things because those interests help to define who they are--as a child naturally becomes this kind of person, whereas the adult who wasn't this way earlier has to learn how to be this way, which requires initiative, almost like they're forcing themselves.

The may look around at their life and see the same old, same old, and say, "I should try and get into something." They'll often call this a hobby. But it's not natural for them like it is for the person who cultivated personal interests from an early age.

Most parents will do nothing of the kind for their children, but almost all parents will tell you (and themselves) they are remarkable parents.

Those remarkable Boston Red Sox won again last night, defeating the Los Angeles Dodgers in their own ballpark for the second straight game, clinching their eighth series victory in a row. It was announced last night that the Dodgers had landed Tarik Skubal from the Tigers. It's gross, isn't it? This whole "let's just buy up" everyone thing. Does it feel good to win that way?

The Red Sox have certainly been big spenders in their history. But I don't believe they've ever tried to have a monopoly on the sport, which is what it feels like the Dodgers are going for. It's tacky. Tasteless. Gluttonous. And it's not in the spirit of the game.

Then you see someone writing, "As a fan of both the Dodgers and the Tigers..." which isn't in the spirit of being a fan. You get to be a fan of one team. That team should mean something to you for reasons beyond just the sport itself; that is, it should have something to do with the fabric of who you are. The fan of "both teams" is a fraud. They won't be a person of sincerity and depth anywhere in their lives, but rather wishy-washy. If you aren't, they won't be for you. And if you are, well, there you go, I guess, and enjoy your life on the surface of all things.

Will the Dodgers win the World Series this year? Many factors go into that. It's always a safer bet to take the field over a team. Speaking of bets: did you know that Americans spent more on sports betting last year than they did combined on books, films, and museums combined?

Stupid, lazy, simple, unthinking, mouth breathing, lowest common denominator people. That's what we are. A nation of such things. A world of such things. What hope is there for humanity? What hope is there for a smart person trying to live a life worth living? With everything that means. Security, appropriate recompense, good and interesting friends, meaningful romance.

Payton Tolle skirted danger throughout most of his outing. Gave up a bunch of hits, some walks, but just the two runs in six innings. Jake Bennett gets the start tonight.

In the grand scheme of things, sports aren't that important. They're importance, as such, is in the instruction they may provide as to the better living of a life. I say this as someone who writes and speaks about sports as part of what they do. But the Red Sox right now are a thing of joy.

Joy can be a misunderstood concept in our world. Joy and happiness aren't the same. One can know and experience joy, without being happy. Joy is to be savored. This wouldn't be the same if they'd been .500 and gone on a huge run. It was where they were at: 14 games under .500. Given up for dead, and rightfully so.

This is the ride, right here. They're giving you the ride. And maybe there's a postseason ride, but even if the latter ends up being a brief one, they provided a real ride.

A real ride isn't a common thing either, in sports or in life. I endeavor to give everyone a real ride--the ride of their life--with each story I write. "Mouse" is a ride. It's a different ride, of course, than a ball club ride. But all joy-infused rides are special.