The Mets lost the World Series, which means the Kansas City Royals won. KC is an excellent baseball team, yada yada, but Goldie asked Sunday night if they played in Missouri or Kansas, and I replied, “Who cares?” (It’s Missouri, by the way.) And if you think I’m being cruel, dig down deep and tell me you don’t feel the same.
Mostly what’s inside is disappointment, and some concern over Daniel Murphy’s mental health. For those out of the baseball loop, he’s the Mets’ second baseman who made a critical error in Game 4 and then another one in Game 5. Most of the Mets had left the dugout Sunday night when the 12th inning ended on a called strike three – Wilmer Flores caught LOOKING! – but Murphy, with head in hand, just stared out at the field. Of course, he’s allowed his contemplative moment, but Murphy shouldn’t blame himself. Manager Terry Collins must shoulder some responsibility for letting Matt Harvey back in to pitch the ninth inning. All that said, I’d like to reiterate that Wilmer Flores LOOKED at strike three. If the husband and I teach our kids nothing else, it’s this: you gotta go down swingin’.
Trevor Noah took over recently at The Daily Show, stepping in permanently for Jon Stewart, who left us this past summer. I was one of the first to open a big mouth and complain about Noah getting the job. I’d seen his few appearances with Stewart and wasn’t impressed. I wanted a woman, I wanted an American, I wanted someone else. Goldie, ever the mature one and my frequent companion watching the show, told me I had to keep an open mind. “Give him a chance. Just promise me that,” she asked. I agreed and we sat for his September 28th debut. Aside from two un-funny and tasteless jokes that night, Noah nailed it. Since then, I’ve laughed out loud, been charmed by his smile, and impressed by his interview skills. He’s not yet as smart or as tough as Stewart, but he’s gracious. And with the addition of correspondent Roy Wood Jr., The Daily Show retains its place in our nightly viewing schedule.
Two reasons I know all will be okay: Adele and the weather. The former released her first single since disappearing after childbirth (the nerve!). The latter, here in Southern California, changed. Adele’s song “Hello”, from her album 25, is nearly everything I wished – poignant, mysterious, melodic. Most important – it’s sung by Adele. Her voice affects my mood and I’m inspired, sentimental. Suddenly, everything matters more, regardless that the lyrics don’t apply to my life. I used to feel the same way about Sting, in years gone by. And Joni Mitchell, always. She’s come to mind the past few days as I’ve been driving, smiling up at the sky: “I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now…” The temperature has finally dropped here in Los Angeles, from a consistent high of 90 to a relative chill of 70, and rain! I don’t know if it’s the Irish in me, but this weather makes sense. Seasonal affective disorder (SAD, that’s the acronym, yep) generally starts, for those who suffer, at the end of fall, continuing through the winter. Mine’s the opposite. Give me clouds, give me rain, give me sweaters to wear and a fire to sit in front of – I’ll still get the laundry done, but I’ll also write more, read more, run through the puddles. Instead of seeing ugly everywhere, when there are clouds, I see beauty.