It’s Tough Being an Adult

"Put me in coach, I'm ready to play", Creadence Clearwater Revival.

Bonnie is up in Chicago this week on business and called Saturday to let me know she had two tickets to Wrigley Field to watch the Astros play the Cubs this Friday and would I like to fly up and enjoy the game. She has all kinds of sky miles and so getting a flight was not an issue. With one arm being leveraged behind my back I reluctantly agreed to force myself into having to attend a baseball game.

I also have a jury summons for this Thursday morning and will attend to that responsibility. There’s only a limited chance of being picked to actually sit on a jury; maybe it has to do with my attitude. I try to remain distanced while pulling on the starter cord of my chain saw every now and then while the lawyers ask questions relevant to being picked. “Guilty! Have they started the trial yet? I’m sorry, I thought you were pointing to me.”, the low idle of the chainsaw gurgles and sputters.

I had planned to hop an airplane to Chicago later on Thursday where Bonnie would meet me at the airport and we could have a neat Father/Daughter date. The hotel she is doing work for has her in a suite and there would be no need for me to get a separate room. I even went out and bought an outrageous Astros jersey to wear to the game; something to endear me to all those Cubs fans, it’s in the washing machine now.

That all changed this morning when I turned on the news to watch the latest developments on Hurricane Rita, now a Level 4 storm with sustained winds clocked around 135mph. Rita is headed for the Texas coast, somewhere near Matagorda Bay, south and west of the Houston area by only a short distance. The severity of the storm, regardless of where it hits, will mean that travel in and around the Houston area will be limited at best by the weekend. The flight home was to have been Saturday morning; key word, “was”. I might have chanced leaving with a tropical storm or even a low grade hurricane; Lucy is pretty organized and could take care of things. I was home alone for one a couple of years back. It was no fun; the water lapping at the back of the house the storm dumped 24 inches of rain and refused to leave the area for two days. I had the towels in levee fashion all around the back door just in case, the wet dry vacuum in hand.

I called Bonnie a few minutes ago and it broke my heart to tell her that I could no longer consider the trip, dinner out and a ball game at Wrigley Field to watch my Astros beat the Cubs. The baseball season is winding down to these last few games and the Astros are contenders for a playoff spot, taking a slim 2 game margin for the Wild Card bid. I have to take care of things here at home as disaster looms off in the Gulf. I would feel awful were I to be sitting in my seat watching the game while Lucy had to take care of any emergencies that propped up as a result of the storm. I’d choke on one of those hot dogs, smothered in sweet onion relish, a long home run leaving the park onto Waveland Avenue, the ivy clad walls having no hold on Ensburg’s next swing of the bat. I wonder; is it too late to call Bonnie back, maybe she hasn’t canceled my flight yet. It’s tough being an adult.