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Sunday, June 30, 2013

Nice Stride: Wilt Chamberlain at 17

I saw this image tonight on the Old Images of Philadelphia Facebook page: Wilt, a 17-year-old senior in high school, running track for Overbrook High. Look at that stride!

Friday, June 28, 2013

Confessions of a Selfish Man

Who knew that back pain could so compromise your spirit? Last night, after dinner, I lied prone on our couch, moaning somewhat theatrically but sincerely, as Karen cleaned dishes, wiped the counters, bathed Ella, and then sat in a rocking chair with Ella, humming lullabies, until Ella fell asleep. Finally, at 11:00 PM, her ambition getting the best of her, Karen attempted to pack boxes.

Boxes litter our apartment. The place is a mess.

Ever so often, I called out, "My wife." Ever so often, she dutifully arrived, and performed whatever small service I asked of her. Please shut the window. Please turn the fan down one notch. Please hand me my phone. Please turn the fan down one more notch. Please open the window, just a bit.

I slept fitfully on the couch, waking at least once per hour to pee. From the bedroom, I heard the occasional cry: Ella waking in the night, and crying out, as she does, for Mama. And I heard Karen, whispering, as she does, crying in her own way, for the sleep that has neglected her for 15 months now. 

I called out of work at 6:05 AM this morning. I hated to do so. By 6:30 AM, Ella and Karen had awoke, and I had moped to the bed to join them. By 7:00 AM, I had moped back to the couch, and Ella had cried out continuously for ten minutes, demanding a bottle--or so Karen thought. By 7:01 AM, one of Ella's bottles, full of chilled goat milk, sat on the hard wood floor, abandoned, the trusty goat milk already curdling in the heat. By 7:08 AM, another bottle, now warmed, sat on the hard wood floor, abandoned, the trusty goat milk...etc.