Smells Like Teen Nothing #3

I’ve always been fascinated by baseball superstitions — don’t step on the foul line, don’t mention a no-hitter before it’s done, don’t (or do) have sex the day you’re playing, Mark Fidrych talking to the ball and squatting down on all fours to pile up pitching mound dirt just right, Moises Alou urinating on his… Continue reading Smells Like Teen Nothing #3

Smells Like Teen Nothing #1

My wife and daughter went to Houston for the weekend, which always presents a bit of a quandary. We’ve got a brown-and-white, super cuddly, adorably sad-eyed, eight-year-old-ish female Boston terrier named Gabby; we wound up with her just a few months before the pandemic started after dog-sitting for Boston-terrier-rescuing fire chief Terry down the block,… Continue reading Smells Like Teen Nothing #1