After reading Fungo's post does anyone have trouble understanding why baseball is just a game?
I lived in southern California for twenty-two years after growing up in New England. I grew up with Christmas being a season. In California it was a day. I always hoped for blustery weather on Christmas. I didn't like it being hot and sunny on Christmas.
As a kid Christmas was about grandma's house. I stayed for the week and got spoiled. The best "all you can eat" involved Grandma's chocolate chip cookies. Grandmothers are cool. They don't worry about proper diet for a week. We once had ice cream sundaes for lunch. She chauffered me around all day on the 26th to spend every last dime I got for Christmas. I remember one year spending all day on the 26th finding all the special race track parts for the new Aurora race car set I received one Christmas (uncle is a NASCAR official). Grandma called it "fancy track." It was the crossovers and loops.
My grandmother would sleep at the top of the stairs on a cot Christmas Eve. There was not going to be any sneaking downstairs. Every year I was turned in by the darn creaking stairs in the old house. I never made it more than halfway down the stairs. But I tried every year. Stupid me, doing the same thing every year and expecting a different result.
One year I was sure I was getting a ten speed. I had to know. There was no waiting until morning. I bolted down the stairs, flipped on the light, got excited and then surrendered to a glaring grandmother standing with her hands on her hips in the living room entry way.
Spring vacation was like Christmas too. I could count on my grandmother buying box seats to every Red Sox game all week. The Sox are always home during Patriot's Day week. It's the week of the Boston Marathon.
Classic grandma line/story: My grandparents rented at a resort on the lake for decades. My kids became the fourth generation. After my grandfather passed she decided to return one more time so four generations could be there at the same time. My generation and my grandmother's generation are not alike. They were more alcohol related in their entertainment. We do more athletic things. At Sunday brunch on the beach my 93yo grandmother ambles up with her bottle to place with the others. She asked why there weren't any other bottles. In her mind it was time for Sunday brunch style drinks. We didn't drink during the day. We wanted to waterski as soon as brunch settled. My 93yo grandmother gave us a good stare of disgust and said, "Your generation doesn't know how to party."
I can still hear my grandmother saying hello as I enter the house like it was the best surprise in the world, no matter how often I was there.