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Entry date: 4-21-23 - Random Thoughts (and The Bet) - Letters to My Friends

Dear Friends,


I have to say the Suns started the game off like a bunch of boneheads last night. Dumb fouls and not taking care of the ball dug themselves a hole. It was as if the Suns had a seal on the rim in the first quarter. At least until they didn’t. Their defense dug them out of the early rut.


My guess, though, is that you’re not here to read about the Suns. You can do that much more effectively elsewhere, I’m sure.


There was a time when I wanted to be a sports writer. During my first full year on the Skyhawk Flight, I covered a lot of sports for the school newspaper. I can’t imagine doing that now. As much as I like sports, I have also been pretty open here about my waning interest in them.


Sure, I still listen to a lot of sports talk radio, but that’s only because radio in Phoenix is awful. I don’t know if I could be happy if my life was immersed in sports. For example, if I were the beat writer covering the Suns, I have to think I would still be wanting to write about other things.


Maybe not. What a life path that would have been, right?


*****


State testing is officially over. I do have a few students who missed the day yesterday so they will have to make up their testing on Monday, but we can get back to a more normal schedule for the last 26 days of the school year. It will be interesting to see how my students fared.


One of the good things I learned about my kids is that there really doesn’t seem to be any of my 31 students who have test anxiety. In previous years, I have seen this a lot. My kids were relaxed and ready to go yesterday and, for the most part, each of the previous four testing days, too.


Self-confidence, like self-control, is often lacking in today’s ten-year-olds. Luckily, my students have a lot more of the former than the latter. I’ve seen some improvement for several of my little people who lack a little (or a lot of) self-esteem. If there is one thing I can do, it’s help people believe in themselves.


Sportswriters are not good at that.


*****


Marcy locked the bathroom door behind her.


“Where are you?” she asked.


“I’m right here. In your head. Good job out there,” Jimmy replied.


“What the fuck is going on?”


“What do you mean?”


“You’re not real.”


“I’m not?”


“You’re an actor. There is no Jimmy. You’re Aidan Lane.”


“Who is Aidan Lane?”


“You. Get the fuck out of my head.”


“Hey, Chickadee, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I thought you were my biggest fan?”

Flustered, Marcy realized that Paul would soon be wondering why she was taking so long in the bathroom. He was clearly ready to go. He didn’t like being away from the kids for too long.


“What is it you want? Why are you talking to me?” Marcy asked the visitor in her head.


“I want to help you win your bet.”


“That’s not happening again.”


“Wanna bet?” Jimmy laughed in Marcy’s head. It hurt her a bit, too. Both her feelings and physically.


“Stop it.”


“That’s not me, Marcy. That’s the booze from last night. It tasted so good.”


“You could taste the wine?”


“I feel everything you feel. That red was taaaaaaaaasty.”


Marcy shook her head violently.


“Get out of my head, Jimmy!” she shouted under her breath.


“No. And you can’t make me,” he added.


Marcy looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She didn’t look crazy, she thought.


“Hey, Marcy,” Paul called. “You ready to go?”


“Babe, you go ahead, okay? I’m not feeling well.”


“A little well-hung this morning?” Paul asked with a laugh.


“Yeah, babe. I think I need to puke.”


“Liar,” Jimmy hissed playfully.


And that was that. Marcy threw up.


(to be continued)


*****


See you tomorrow.



I saw this on the ground at work the other day. I had to snap a pic.

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