Friday evening, i was late.

i have tried to stay with US flag regulations long after i completed my active duty service nigh 49 years ago. i raised the flag pole at the top of our slope in the early 1990s. i reread the flag regulations several times — the reason when the anthem is played, i take my hat off and hold in my left hand and put my hand over my heart, not putting my hat over my heart.

It was easy to raise the flag at 0800 and lower it at sunset in the beginning. My lab, Cass, liked going up to the top of the hill, check things out while i did my duty, and sometimes bolt down the hill for further adventures requiring me to follow in pursuit. Fun.

But Cass got old and left me, dammit. i got a light for the flag, allowing me to leave it flying at night, and only went up occasionally after that unless flag regulations required a lowering to half mast.

For the last several days, my flag at the top of the slope has been at half-mast. Dianne Feinstein died and the edict for lowering the flag ensued. It lasted until sunset on the day of her interment, which was Thursday. i had a long day concluding with a supper at the tapas restaurant. i did not have the energy or desire to two-block the flag up on the slope. i passed and played my Friday Morning Golf (FMG) followed by my Friday Afternoon Nap (FAN).

So around six in the evening, i climbed the railroad tie steps up the slope, stepped over the gopher pile of dirt, ascended to the flag pole, placed my two small cloth bags on the small metal table, and dutifully two-blocked the flag.

But i was not done. The chair is one of a pair Sarah brought home from Austin. When she moved to Las Vegas, they remained and became view seats next to the flag pole. They are not used enough. The rusty table, also from Sarah, the one with the rocks on top, also has a blue tooth speaker, and most importantly, a unbreakable martini glass Sarah gave me. It is filled with a Cyril Vaughn Fraser “martin.”

i don’t come up here often enough, and i was dedicated to make this one special. As i raised the flag, i looked down on our backyard. i am a lucky man. Maureen’s touch is everywhere. The view eastward, including Mount Miguel isn’t too bad either.

i sit and look west toward my Pacific. It’s not there. The last two days, we’ve had a pretty puny Santa Ana. Low humidity and the temperature actually touched 90 for a little while. Looking west, it was evident the Santa Ana had broken for there, hovering and ready for an onslaught ashore was the marine layer, lying low and fluffy white, obscuring my Pacific.

i turned on “My” library on iTunes, and selected my “Narada” album of new guitar music. i peered out at the whiteness and beyond as the sun descended. i sipped my martin, ate an olive, listened to the music. i didn’t actually sigh, but i could feel my breathing up on this slope alone.

i hope your world is as good as mine.

i awoke, did my morning chores, and i was taking the cat litter box leavings out to the trash when it hit me:

i am not going to root first for any particular teams in the major league baseball playoffs. My number one rooting platform dawned me this morning as i scanned the sports headlines and learned all four playoff series were sweeps., i.e. four wildcard teams had swept the other four. That meant the owners and the networks lost four games of revenue. i then added up how many games would not be played if all of the series were sweeps. The total number is twenty-one games would not be played.

i’m rooting for every series in the playoffs are sweeps.

That’s what i’m rooting for: that the four division series are won in five games series, the two league series are won in four games, and the world series is one in four games. Along with the four games already not played that number is twenty-one. 21!

That my friends is a chunk of change lost.

i think these owners and the networks televising the playoffs don’t need anymore money, and might consider quit changing rules of what was once a beautiful sport for four to seven games in October. Nah, that ain’t gonna happen. Those coin counters aren’t going to let that happen.

Go, Sweeps, Go.

Wednesday, October 4, 2023.
the sun had obeyed the meridian
and
was rising later;
the sky was dark,
well before first light;
there were no clouds:
only the street light
and
next door’s outdoor light
impacted my night vision
slightly
and
there were more stars
than i had seen in at least a year.
Venus, Regulus, Sirius, Jupiter
spoke to me
and
i returned to when
the skies filled the heavens
like lights on a Christmas tree
only doubled or tripled up,
a wonderful sight
i only saw at sea
like the Indian Ocean
oh so many years ago
when i would take a break
from my tasks as number two,
walk out to the weather decks,
stand at the safety rail,
looking skyward
thinking not of the stars
but
of you,
glorious, beautiful you
so, so right
for me.