Baseball: Charming

    "Baseball:  Charming"
  
   A humble physician told me that baseball is synonymous with the word:  "Charming."
   A psychology, or wiser--a spiritual war between pitcher and hitter, with a catcher involved.  Everyone needs a safety net.  But you have to ask God for new challenges.  And you take your toddler to the games, get hot dogs and a Coke.  You step-up to the plate.  You never run, for exile is only reserved for daring bards, like Joyce.    
   Would you put your toddler in a nursing home?  He's not there.  He's as dumb as a fruitcake, can't even read, doesn't have fully developed motor skills, and is a nuisance.  It's bad enough that you take him to daycare.  Stay at home, whether Mom or Dad.  Your child deserves a parent.  How long would that child last in a nursing home?  You mean like all the elderly dead from heat exposure after the hurricane, when there was a hospital right next door?
   Facilities suck.  It's a duty of you as a parent to make sure your kid's household doesn't suck.  I'm a lousy father, somewhat.  But always in communication and gifting, something my father was never allowed to do with me.  It was still great as hell to know my father, and my son feels the same way--no matter what the dillweeds say about me.  
   Family is all you have.  I consider my ex-wife family.  She's a Wookiee.  Hairy Italian.  And I still love her, as a sister.  Maybe there's new wine for me in the form of a woman.  But I'm rarely thirsty for such intoxicating seduction.  There are more imperative things than carnal cravings.  Such as watching baseball with family.  No yelling at the television.  No stress.  Slow, yet fluidic.  As Slash from Guns and Roses would say, as he did about the song NIGHT-TRAIN:  "It's just a walk in the park."