The signs of me getting old are there.
It’s harder to stand-up without at least some form of a groan.
My grandson outdrives me off the tee by at least 40 yards consistently.
I have to take a break half-way through mowing our lawn.
Last week I argued with a teen in our house that the music was way better “back in my day.”
And then there’s this: I’d rather watch the Bosox from the comfort of my recliner in our air-conditioned living room. There’s the sure sign that something has changed in my life’s journey.
Don’t get me wrong, being at Fenway Park is mighty awesome. Even inspiring. But during my most recent visit to Fenway, the “inspiring” didn’t match my “perspiring.” Last time I was at Fenway, it was a hot, muggy day. Even though my seats were pretty decent (about 5 rows behind the Sox dugout) my view was consistently blocked by sweaty vendors barking in my ear. And since I’m somewhat of a lanky fellow, my knees were crammed into the back of the chair in front of me, which did no favors for my back ache that visits most middle-aged dudes at some point.
So yeah….if given a choice between the following:
Being crammed into a wooden mini-chair at Fenway while sweat-sticking to said chair as my kinked-up lower back prompts another grab for a Tylenol fix in my pocket-
Watching Devers deliver another frozen rope down the line from my fluffy and comfy couch as the A.C. churns out icy air-
I do believe I’ll take the view from our Orono abode.
So, life’s pretty good for me these days. Watching the Sox in person is not an option. Does the fact there are no fans filling the stands bother me? Not a bit. Lack of crowd noise? Yawn-I’m all set.
Sox are on in 5 minutes. Just enough time for me to grab a sleeve of Chip Ahoys and a mug of blueberry iced tea. Might as well turn the A.C. up one notch while I’m up. Go Sox!