I believe I have managed to beat a dead horse with the whole turning sixty thing. I did such a good job that I squeezed three days worth of posts out it. Score for me. But the time has come to move on, so move on I will.
Once again I find myself idea-less, mired in the in the mud of the mundane. I could report on The Kid and softball. His team is not so good this season. In fact The Kid has struggled this season. Struggled to find his bat, struggled in the field, struggled with the aches and pains of renewed physical activity after months of dormancy. But thanks to the nice man on the cruise who pin pointed his pain and offered a solution The Kid is back on track. His bat has come alive and diving left field catches are once again common place. It's all about confidence, the new arch supports in his shoes, and leaving his shirt untucked.
Yes, you read that correctly. He is convinced that this mid-season turn around is the result of allowing his shirt tail to flap freely in the breeze. The outcome of this one act alone has changed his entire outlook on the season.
Elite athletes are so superstitious.