Raffy

Last week Greg called with M's tickets... I had just gotten back and wasn't in the mood to go out. Turns out it was the night Rafael Palmeiro had his 3,000th hit. Now I feel like an idiot... in retrospect, I need to be a bit more stoic about what goes on around here. I don't really care about missing the hit, even though it's a part of baseball history, it's just missing out on stuff in general. I've already given up on having a "normal" life. But I think trying to live the abnormal life with some normalcy definitely beats sitting at home alone because one of your coworkers was cut up and nobody knows what to do about it.

I called my dad last night and talked with him for a while. Mom was out with friends. It was the typical father-son bullshit, although he could tell something was wrong, so he asked me about it. I brushed it off as nothing, just something minor that was bugging me, and that was that. That seemed like a better lie than the official party line, anyway. But I'm wondering now what Copithorne's family thought when they were delivered the news. Not only is he lost to them, but they have no idea he died for something serious, something he believed in.

Anyway, I'm headed out drinking.