Missouri, that is.
Big ol' family reunion this weekend up in Missouri (mizz-ur-ee as opposed to mizz-ur-uh, which I've also heard). Yeah, the wife's not taking this train so I'm riding solo. She gets upset with me when I drive for long periods of time, especially by myself, but it's the CW McCall in me. Once I hit that open road with the sun behind me and nothing but dead armadillos and asphalt in front of me, I might drive all the way to Canada. But why would I want to do that?
Speaking of, what happened to America? Like overnight we went from Ernie to Elmo. I heard the lines at Newark were near six football fields long. I suppose that means we're back on heightened alert. Not to make light of the whole situation because this is really serious, but this is why I drive. I hate airports now. I mean, man, whatta bummer. By the time you sit down on the plane, you're really wondering if you, in fact, do have a bomb. You might even question your nationality. Whatever, politics is not something I'm very good at so I'll just shut up. I just know I hate airports.
Chuckheads put to two up in the win column tonight. Happy about that. Kool Aid came in like a man tonight. Dude was alive. Suppose he snorted Hawaiian Punch tonight. Whatever it was, dude scored from first on a ground out in the infield with no error. Amazing. He loves the game.
First win came against our lowly friends from last semester, Scott's Flowers. Second game came against a competitor, Circuit City we'll say. Dude's got served. They got a nasty Roundhouse that'll make them walk sideways for weeks. I don't really like beating dudes like that, but once the wheels get turning, you ain't about to shut 'em off. They were good sports about it and afterwards drank our beer--we offered, of course, because we're good sports. Chuck would have it no other way. It'll be a tougher league no doubt. We spend our downtime sizing up our competition. Ain't no walk in the proverbial park like last semester.
Alright. Everyone have a fantastic weekend. I'm out until Sunday evening. Til' then, I'm somewhere between the Yellow and Jefferson City, MO. Mizz-ur-ee, that is.