No, no park-going today. Clouds are gathering, and I just know that the second the Dawg E and I get out to the woods we’ll get a hailstorm or trampled underhoof by the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse if I don’t get off the trail quick enough. Which is actually a bit of a fear of mine. Somewhere along the way I read that snow and lightning are harbringers of the End of Time. Like proper noun End of Time and not Puddlehead Dies in Tragic Ghosthorse Stampede.
And, as it should be, I have been in quite a few snow-hail-lightning storms. Though I in no way believe that malarky about the equine avengers, a strange uneasiness washes over me whenever thunder and lightning accompany snow or hail. There should be a phobia for this.
So, I am off for a safe walk through the ‘hood but wanted to give any and all the heads up that there is a basketball game in Cleveland tonight. I will be watching, of course, and will again make ridiculous predictions just like I did on Thursday. Stay tuned for that. Also, a A-Rod meltdown today would be beautiful. I hope we can all channel our psychic energies on this afternoon’s Yankee/Red Sox game on Fox and wait for a spectacular display of poor sportsmanship, hug-fighting, and the ghost of Don Zimmer gently guided onto his head by Petey Martinez, his sweet perm in all its wavy glory.
If I’m up for it, a liveblog will ensue for both games. That, or I’ll gloss some poems, turn you on to one of my favorites, Jack Gilbert.