Ah Sunday night after a weekend of treats!
The New York Mets are playing the Kansas City Royals in baseball’s World Series. The Mets play in Queens and I have nice memories of my dad taking us to see them play at Shea Stadium. The bus, the long walk to Shea, the cheap seats so high that kid-me thought I could reach up and touch the planes overhead flying into and out of LaGuardia Airport. Many years later, middle brother and I would see Billy Joel perform at his Last Play At Shea concert before the stadium was torn down and replaced with Citifield.
The Mets are the underdog team. I still believe that if you’re from Queens, you are born a Mets fan. Like religion, you are free to convert but the Mets will always be the team of your borough of birth. And so I am watching the games, “school night” or not.
Yesterday was Halloween and, like every other year in this neighborhood, there were no trick-or-treaters. I got wise, though. Instead of candy I bought little bags of pretzels so now, I have enough pretzels to last me through the winter. It’s good to stock up for the long winter, right?
I treated myself to a dress coat. The company I work for is moving to an even more fashionable area and I get this unspoken message that maybe I should dress more like a grownup. I fear that my toasty, practical, machine washable down coat might not fit in the new environment. And, the tan coat was on sale, so maybe this isn’t really a treat?
A treat is a funny thing: we just assume it’s going to be frivolous until you look just a little more and see the deeper need. The childhood ballgames led to a conversational understanding of the national sport. Being prepared for trick-or-treating children left me with a mini-stockpile. The coat, well, maybe it was about time.
