The baseball games went well this weekend. Both boys got to pitch. Both spent some time on base. It didn’t rain on us (very much) while we were out watching. I got bored with baseball very quickly when I was a kid. One season was enough for me. I think that #3 feels the same way. #4 however, seems to have been bitten by some sort of bug and I suspect that if there was a baseball cereal he’d ask his mother to buy it for him.
It’s good to find something you love when you are young. You have the rest of your life to enjoy it and, if you have the desire and discipline, to get good at it. But what about those of us who are only just getting started? You know, those of us planning retirement from our careers who can’t pick up baseball and hit in the majors for $237, 883 per swing?
If you are writing, I offer Frank McCourt. I started his book, “Teacher Man” this weekend and like it. He has a distinctive voice and his story, while personal, is not like the commentary that generally accompanies vacation slides.
The thing is, Frank didn’t publish his first novel until he was 66. Admittedly, he was as surprised by his success and everyone else, but… 66. If you have a story to tell, tell it. Find someone else to help you tell it, whatever. You’re not as old as you think.
Seriously. Pop an Advil, stop complaining, and do it already.