My lifelong dream of becoming the head grounds keeper for the Milwaukee Brewers has suffered another hit.
Our parents provide the great disservice of overnurturing us on the principle of sticktoitiveness, culminating in the oft expressed, rarely backed-up idiom: "You can do anything if you put your mind to it."
I am not a major league baseball player. Trust me. I wore out my cranium on that one. Still waitin’ on the call.
When I was growing up, I looked forward to the hours before first pitch as much as I did the actual baseball game. It was mandatory that my father get us to the park as soon as the gates opened, not to heighten my chances at snagging a BP fly ball (though that was a nice fringe benefit), but in order that I might be able to view the final on-field preparations.
I marveled at the setting of the batter’s box, the watering of the infield, the manicuring of the mound. I always imagined myself moving not from the dugout to the broadcast booth…you know, when I retired from the game…but rather to the role of head grounds keeper.
Unlike being a player or even a broadcaster, I’ve always regarded my dream of (now) Miller Park caretaker as one of great attainability. Until now.
A lifetime of chronic sinus related distress led me to the offices of multiple specialists this week. After a CT scan and a few meetings with a few really smart people, the conclusion was this:
- I should avoid yard work.
Okay, okay, there’s a lot more to it - I have a deviated septum; I have multiple cysts in my right sinus cavity; I have some issue with my right nasal concha; I have terrible allergies to a couple of everpresent triggers; surgery lurks on the horizon – but all my brain has processed is that one sentence in the 10 pages of literature that I was given that states:
“The possibility of a sinus episode can be reduced through the avoidance of outdoor chores.”
Maybe I can live vicariously through my wife, though I don’t think she’s at all interested in mowing the Miller Park outfield.