Washing Off the McMurray Dirt

It's a very fine dirt, coming, quite unintentionally, in both infield and outfield tints. It makes feature film-quality dust clouds as well as the fabled Fuller's Earth. Ever step, every bounce, every bat dropped on the way to first adds to the hazy orange fog. McMurray Dirt is like river silt, but I don't now how it might have made its way from the river.

The season wrapped up tonight in the hot July sun. We lost to one of those bar teams that often seem to string together enough hits to get it done. Always tough to lose in front of the women folk. Now, after the handshakes and the cans of beer, it's time to wash of the last twelve games.

It's still steamy after sundown and that makes it as a tough choice to go hotter or cooler in the shower. The cool water feels better and revives, but the hotter water opens more pores and releases that dusty dirt. No matter how much action you saw, the dirt got you.

It's necessary to take extra time in the shower. It's really all gotta come off. Leave to soap on a bit longer, enjoy that one more beer brought into the shower and finally rinse the whole thing away, inside and out.

Contentment in the Modern World

There was a time that man strove for his crops to grow. To cross the plains. To get out of that foxhole in France.

Man has sought to end war. To cure disease. To raise himself up.

Today, my profound sense of accomplishment and relief comes from successfully navigating the convoluded, non-intuitive menu structure of the Denon 2807 and getting the kitchen speakers activeted in time to do the dishes.

And to sound awesome for the mrs. in time for Rattle & Hum.