But before I get to those Yankees...
The other day we finally got to turn off the air conditioning (but today it's back on). I went around the house opening windows and had a sudden burst of nostalgia. It was early evening. The traffic had died down and you could hear the wind in the branches and the birds and the waves on the lake.
I was suddenly transported to North Main Street circa 1980. I'm six years old. In this memory, I'm at the Sivinski's and we've been sent inside to bed while the parents stay up around the campfire built in the empty lot between Sivinski's and Dillon's.
I'm on the floor of living room on top of one of the madras plaid sleeping bags. I remember those because the outside of them were itchy. This was before the sleeping bag that looked like a bag of Doritos made it's way into their linen closet.
**Sigh** those were the days. So maybe we do need to buy that house next to the Kerber's, so we can send our kids in to bed while we throw back a couple PBRs? Then again, would we ever trust Zoe and Paige together...unsupervised?
And now those Yankees....
I park at Progressive field because it is cheap. Really cheap. The downside to this is that on game nights you have to be out by 5:30 pm or you are charged another dollar each additional 15 minutes you are over.
I have no problem with this rule, as I will gladly leave work as early as humanly possible without getting fired. And I typically have no problem with traffic at that time (especially since the Indians suck so bad).
But Tuesday...my only possible explanation for this scenario is the onslaught of Yankee fans coming to watch the game.
I have never seen such incompetent parking skills in all my life.
1. It is essential that they back into the parking space. Because god forbid they have to wait an extra 60 seconds to back out of their parking spot when they want to leave after the game. Never mind the fact that this person, namely - ME, is trying to leave NOW.
2. In spite of their deep desire to back into a spot, they cannot accomplish this task in less than 20 maneuvers ("Man-oooo-vers" - Eddie Izzard). I will freely admit that I am not good driving in reverse, but here's the difference. I DON'T BACK INTO MY F-ING SPACE!
Sidebar: Equally annoying, but quite infrequent compared to last year, the Little Missus across the street, taking her Maserati out for a spin. The amount of time it takes her to get turned around in her driveway is ridiculous, and that car is LOUD. If you can afford a Maserati, you can afford a valet to turn your car around for you.