Safe at home

When we were little, we all had something, like a blanket or a toy, that we looked for to provide us with comfort and peace. Once that item was in our clutches, the sights and sounds of the rest of the world receded. My blanket is Yankee baseball.

At approximately 7:05 PM last night, my universe changed, at least for the next 6 months. I know that Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton and John McCain are still out there. I know that the problems that are of concern to me in my own life, and in the lives of others, are not disappearing. It is just that they have been moved slightly to other regions of my brain. They will have to accept the fact that they have to share me with my first and most enduring love. With the first pitch thrown by Mr. Wang, everything else became of slightly less import.

I continue to find sustenance my shallowness. I wrote a piece about 2 years ago wondering whether I would ever grow up and focus my concerns on the important events of the day. I think I am beginning to do that. Yet I can't, and don't want to, break away from what has been a lifelong passion. I am not ready, and doubt I ever will be, to abandon my oldest and dearest friend.

The phone rang immediately after the last pitch of the game last night. My daughter was calling to recap the events of the game with me. She is out in Utah but had watched the game by getting it through MLB TV (or something like that). The bonds of baseball (not Barry) continue to bring us together, even as we are thousands of miles apart. Each night, the local 10 o'clock newscast begins by asking if you know where your children are. As of last night, and through the remainder of the baseball season, I know mine are safe at home.