Desultory Thoughts of a Longfellow

Baseball(s) and everything else.

Category: Everything and Nothing

Sonny, 9/21/2008 – 6/9/2014

Note: Obviously, there’s quite a bit of dust on this blog, but that’s what happens when you become a lead editor and content manager for a fantasy sports site. Everything I want to say, I say over there. Everything else? Well, there’s just not enough time. For this post, I made time.

The truth is, I never was a ‘dog person’. I never understood the goofy noises owners would make at their dogs. I never understood all the money they spent. And I never understood why any person would turn their lives upside down to accommodate an animal.

Until Sonny.

I remember when I first met her. Just on a whim, one day, I decided to check-out a newly formed litter. Out of the eight that were released from behind the fence, only one approached me. Her ferocious curiosity won me over. You could say she chose me.

Straight out of Pavlov’s handbook, when I first brought her home, I would take her paw and ring a bell at the door before we went for a walk to do her business. A few weeks later, much to my delight, she rang the bell herself to use the restroom. I was proud. A few weeks after that, she rang the bell, but not to go to the bathroom, but to go play outside. She had figured it all out, and now used the bell on me. I was even prouder.

There was many a time when she would bring a toy over and lay it in my lap. Sometimes, I just didn’t want to play. Her response? She would grab the toy from my lap, walk it over to the corner of the room, and dump it in the trash can. As if that didn’t convey her sassiness enough, she also had the added pleasure of walking to the opposite side of the room and lay down, her back facing me. The cutest disdain ever recorded.

Every person she met, it was with a large volume of barks, but no one was fooled… The licks and wagging tail betrayed the fact that she was a lover. Definitely not a fighter.

She loved kimchi. She loved peanut butter. Often both at the same time. And, of course, bacon. (Who doesn’t?)

Sonny was diagnosed with congestive heart failure, and at the time, her prognosis was devastating; anywhere from a week to three months was the general survival window… if I was lucky. That day was one year-and-a-half ago. And today was her last.

I won’t pretend to fit her entire lifetime into one cathartic and unworthy post. Just hopefully a few words that can try and convey what she meant to me.

I never understood why people did what they did for their dogs. Today, I know I won’t ever forget.

Sonny, I love ya. Thanks for stopping by for a bit. It meant… the world to me.

 

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The Long Off-Season Soon Endeth. I Thinketh.

So, time to get the dust off this blog and get to work. Maybe.

Yeah, there’s been some time in-between posts. The thing is, I’m wired in the way that my mind turns-on ‘write-mode’ in-and-around the start of the Major League Baseball Season.

You might ask me why I don’t write during the football season, and my simple reply to that is– I’m way too drunk. OR, I’m watching way too much porn. OR, I’m building an armoire. OR, all of those things at the same time. What can I say? The brightest flame burns twice as fast. Something like that.

Anyhow, consider this an opening of the gates. My gates. Which sounds sexual. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

More content shall follow. Probably, for sure. Maybe.

Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra

Yes, I did just make my first post title about a STTNG episode. Though I considered going with a famous Kosh quote “And so it begins…”, but you don’t know who Kosh is so who the fuck cares.

I’m here for one reason and one reason only. And that’s to create and start my own journey as a writer, something I’ve never seen myself doing. Even though I’ve been writing since I could hold a pencil. Crazy right? Hey buddy, how old was Newton when he got bopped by the apple? That’s what I’m sayin’.

So here I am, doing what my soul wants to do, with glitter and dancing and forests, fork-in-the-road type stuff. Glean whatever you want from that, because it’s supposed have a side of existentialism type Sylvia Plath-ness to it. Or… I just described a scene from Big Fish.

When you think about that word– writer, as a descriptor of who I am, it seems a tad bit folly. After all, with all the hopes and dreams of my mother, who’s rabid determination for her only child to become a doctor or a lawyer or a priest evolved into the, um, next best thing; someone who gives shitty advice on how RA Dickey is going to be an ace for the Blue Jays, well, then you know what’s up. Fuck me, amiright?

But do what you know, or teach what you have, or be too cool for school, or whatever the perfect saying is, put that here. Actually, this is one I like: ‘If you’re good at something, never do it for free.’ There you go. As Leonardo DiCaprio once said, “In America, it’s bling bling. But out here it’s bling bang.” While I’m in America, I am also still way out here, which is to say, the quote still fits here because I have no idea where I am, in a metaphorical sense. But really, I just wanted to share that quote. It’s a keeper.

But to elaborate on that gibberish, this blog will be a process of discovery, not just through the game I’ve been playing and writing about for so long, but for everything I ever wanted to say about anything. And being able drop as many f-bombs as I want. This is key.

I’m not necessarily here to be silly, but neither am I here to be serious. I have an opinion on all things in this world, and I’d love to share. If you want to read it, well then, that makes this a team effort. So go team!

For those who know me over at Razzball, I’ll still be focussing on what I do best, and that’s talk about baseball. But maybe less-so in a fantasy context. So, rest assured, my focus will still gravitate to the game I know and love a lot, so we’ll talk about baseball, without the basement/dateless nerd aspect I do in other places. But I’ll also write about movies, dating, television, politics, basket weaving, no rock will be left unturned. Well, I won’t reference country music that much, so that rock will stay in it’s place. Or, you know, it gets the lotion in the basket.

And while this blog is more for me than for you, after all, the name of the place is, ahem, my name, not yours. I still would like to believe that I’m doing this for something greater, more valiant, to create a better world for everyone.

But really, I just want mo’ money to make a bunch of sammiches and buy an ownership stake in one of those cool Alpaca farms. So, who knows how to put ads on this sucker?

Welcome to the Desultory Thoughts of a Longfellow.

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