A violent storm rocked the D.C area Wednesday, leveling trees, cars, fences and power lines. It also practically leveled our hopes of today’s Ladies Night appearance with the Nationals, as well. Sound paranoid? Negative? Well, seven hours in the dark can drive anyone to such thoughts. More thunderstorms are expected late this afternoon. So, we’ll see.
Yesterday started with a visit to my high school, Walter Johnson, and, specifically, the journalism class, where I got my “start.” At first, we thought it was only the receptionist, but it soon became clear that the whole school was wrapped in a deep and muffled trance that accompanies the waning weeks of the school year. It struck me that every single kid is completing a monumental year – as they all are at that wonderful age — and is often anxious about what lies ahead… the whimsy of summertime… and the next school year. You remember the feeling, right? . . .
But, Jackie and I know kids and figured that even a muffled trance was likely not enough to force the students to pay attention to us. So, we plied them with two dozen donuts and patiently waited for the placating coma that follows a sugar rush. Then, we merrily wonked our way through 45 minutes.
Just kidding, kids… we were pleased that they all seemed attentive – and some even eager – as Jackie and I talked about our life as young journalists and (feeling very) old authors. We both would be delighted – and fully expect – to see your names and your words in print. You are all off to a great start, certainly with the enthusiastic guidance of Ms. Gates. Good job to you all!
I then proceed to drag Jackie though my old neighborhood – Wyngate Elementary school, and all – where we terrorized the poor man who lives in my childhood home. He hid in the upstairs bedroom and ignored the doorbell and knocks as if we were pesky vacuum cleaner salesmen. Yes, dude… we saw you shirking. So, without your permission, we took all sorts of pictures of the house. In my day, we kept the doors unlocked. And we most certainly didn’t hide from the odd passersby. Sheesh. We followed that with a visit to the mother of my childhood best friend. She let us in. Though that wasn’t always the case…
Then the storm came and, with it, away whisked any assurance that we’d be hanging with the ladies (and guys like my dad) at the National’s Ladies Night, Thursday. Jackie and I took pictures of the storm as it raged outside. We don’t get storms like that in Seattle. The bloom soon fell of that rose and we found ourselves sitting in the dark drinking beer, taking silly pictures and eating fajitas with my family.
When the lights came back on, Jackie turned on the “Red Wings game,” which also featured The Penguins. I caught the final, dramatic seconds that could have put the game into another overtime (Monday’s game had three overtimes). Instead, Detroit hoisted the trophy and I went to bed.