Christian Existentialism

It's 6:09 pm, and I am sitting with my shoes off, my arthritis
is making my feet swell. The front window is open, a person is
passing by the ramp leading up to my room. "Yankee Statium here
we come," states the commercial. "Open a New York checking account",
with the Bank of America.

No clouds can be seen over the parking lot, where my black car is
sitting, beyond the lonely bush in the sand near the asphalt. The
coastal trees, leaning and in disarray, are beyond P21, where
the kids take a computer class.

Its blue, with an alarm wire connecting my portable with the next
room. My room used to be a computer room, and its connected to
the nurse's room, used ROP to train future nurses.

I stack of Mexican hats from Chevy's lay on my Christmas present
from Bed, Bath, and Beyond, which is a stoll the is broken. A
giraffe with my three kids in a picture in its tummy is standing
near my official school mug, black and red, with a saying, "Mentors
Make a Difference." I don't remember why the administration game
us this mug years ago with that comment.

Thigpen in on first with no outs, McDonald successfully sacrifices
Thigpen to second, one out. Susan Wallman and John Stirling go on
about how great Kennedy pitched today.

Struck out seven, walked four.

He's a rookie, pitching only this three day, or so.

"Hit on the ground wide of third."

Its a 1-2 count.

"He struck him out swinging." John Stirling

Thigpen is off second, the infield is in a step or two.

A slider, for a strike.

The Yankees have Abreu, Rodriquez, and Matsui ready for
the next inning.

The next man struck out.

I have a pile of oral report cardboard assignments leaning against
a couple cases of Shasta Root Beer. The heater is sitting, unused,
and cold next to the root beer.

Bobby Abreu

strike 0 and 1

"Grounder up the middle, for a basehit."

Here's A-Rod

pitch high
a throw to first
fouled back

1/1 A Rod backs back

a throw over

strike
a 78 mile curveball, strikeout

My wife is driving Timothy home tonight, so I can
sit here and finish school work and listen to
the Yankees on the internet.

I'm wearing my school grey polo shirt, black pants,
plaid socks, and my Yankee wrist band, or baseball
leather and a cloth "NY" in the middle.

I've got my Mickey Mouse watch, and a school black
plastic wrist band under the Yankees wrist band.

one on and one out
2 and 2

90 mile an hour fast ball.

Matsui is up
foul
right in on his hands

Downs attempts to get a dribbler
and has no play.

Matsui is on first and Abreu is still
on second.

Robinson Cano is up

ground foul at the plate

The Yankees need a basehit

cut on and missed

0 and 2

Grounded to second and he is thrown out at first

Milky Cabrera is up.

The runners move up.

ball

He hits it hard, but there is a diving stop at first

The Yankees leave two, no score.

Its 6:41pm

I've got a poster of James Taylor, President Bush,
"A Fresh Start for America", and Uncle Sam saying,
"I Want You For U.S. Army".

Toronto got a hit on the first pitch.

Chris Britton is pitching.

Frank Thomas is up.

Rios steals second.

Rio is on second with no outs.

I've got the front windows open and the front door,
and my side window between the portables. It's getting
cold. A custodian is measuring the portable next to mine
for some reason.

Hit

Toronto Wins!

I woke up late today. It gets tougher to get
up later in the week. Each day I get up slower,
in the black of the pre-dawn day. I looked for
the family dog, Dyna (for Dynamite), who needs
her medicine, but my 19 year old son, who has
drug the dresser into the door way, and piled
his cloths and books for school all over the floor,
has the dog on his bed, but I am not going to drag
myself through his bedroom looking for a 10 year
old dog, who's half asleep to get it medication,
so I let it go. I got my medication, for arthritis.

I did not get any food for lunch, since I was planning for lunch with the Lions Club at the
Black Bear Diner in Monterey.

Washing my hair, what's left, shaving my face,
and brushing my teeth, and flossing, I stubbed
around the bedroom, and kissed my wife goodbye.

Driving my PT Cruiser, the back window of a PT
is pretty much blind. It was covered with smired
dirt and dew. I turned to my left, watching to
miss my sons Honda in the street, and cleared
off my left rearview mirror. It got caught on
the trash container on the street. It is the
container my wife told me to put out earlier
last night.

I went to the gas station with my mirror hanging
into the window resting next to my steering wheel.

The gasoline would not come out of the hose to
fill the tank. I had to back up and begin to
fill the car.

I drove straight to the Chrysler dealer to put
in a request to fix the car. I left a note with
the early-bird envelope. The car dealers are
fixing the roads, and I got caught in the new
cars lined up and one-way streets, being recovered
with asphalt.

I got no phone call from the dealer, so I went
over to the dealer and got an estimate, which
is $170.00.

I gave a test to four of my classes, and a simulation of the making of the U.S. Constitution
in my AP class.

I drove to the Black Bear Diner, and in walks
my daughter. She was working with a local artist,
finishing his paintings. Apparently, this artist
is painting around 300 paintings to be signed
by Mohammad Ali, and my daughter in helping the
artist finish the paintings.

I bought her lunch, but she said it was dry,
so she did not finish it. I just bought some
french fries and had some water.

Tomorrow is Root Beer Day. I raised around $80.00
last week.

I had to change my Close Up Foundation Washington
D.C. trip. We will go to Washington D.C. and
Williamsburg.

The kids "bailed" on me, so I have a very short
window of time to get six kids to pay over $500.00
to go. I've raised over $7,000 to take these kids.

I'm still at school, correcting tests and recording
them, while listening to the N.Y. Yankees play.
They're losing 1 to 0.

This is another long day.