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The Cold Filtered Ramblings of Gene Mueller

A Dad, A Son, Miles Of Road and Piles of Ball Tickets...

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         Remember when your kids were little?

        When it felt like they'd ALWAYS be attached to your hand?      Always needing a bedtime story...or a late-night drink?

        Didn't it seem like they'd be in diapers forever?

        There comes that time, though, when they start to separate.     School brings friends, friends mean unique societies where parents aren't allowed.      Societies mean interaction with the opposite sex...which leads to relationships.

         Mom and Dad...you're in the rear view mirror.

         Which is why I didn't know what would happen with my son and I this summer.     We'd taken baseball trips together--just he and I--the past five or six summers.      We've been to some of the games great new cathedrals, some of it's old minor league dumps.    In between, we've seen nature at it's finest at Niagara Falls and urban deterioration at it's worst in parts of inner Detroit.     We've taken in the Halls of Fame for rock music and the NFL.      We've eaten "The Brown" sandwich in Louisville, the Primanti of Pittsburgh, the friend bologna of Buffalo, the Skyline chili of Cincinnati and a side of White Castles,  plus miles of hot dogs in between.      We've been roasted, frozen, drenched, baked and broiled.       Sometimes, we even got bored.      We never tired of each other.

        Things change, though, and the little boy who promised me all those years ago that we'd ALWAYS do a baseball trip is now 17 with a job he loves, a girlfriend he's very attached to, buddies he hangs with in person or on the Internet.     He has the freedom that comes with a driver's license, and his own spending money.

        Where do Dad and the road fit in?

        I'm glad to say he has room for both of us.

        Our annual trip begins Thursday morning when he and are wheels-up from Mitchell en route to Baltimore, Maryland.     We'll see Camden Yards that night, as well as D-C's RFK Stadium and many minor league points in between: Delmarva, Wilmington, Bowie and Potomac, to name a few.

       There'll be late night movies, guy talk, burping, farting, laughing at inappropriate things.     

       There'll be us...at least for another summer.

       I hope they continue, right up until the point where I'm the one in diapers.

 

 

   

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