Weekend Musings

A. Bartlett Giamatti had it right in his essay The Green Fields of the Mind

It breaks your heart. It was designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then, just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops. Today, October 2, a Sunday of rain and broken branches and leaf-clogged drains and slick streets, it stopped, and summer was gone.

Yes, I know the division, league, and World Series have yet to be completed, but since my Dodgers are out of the race, I'm not as interested as I might have been when we were still in the hunt.

It's Friday, and as I look out my office window I see a stiff breeze moving the trees around. It will probably be cooler by the time I get my bus. Even though I'm wearing a turtleneck top, I'm glad I brought my windbreaker along!

Actually, it's pitch-black by the time I get off my bus at Silverlake and Effie. I have a brisk downhill walk of about a block, then up the stairs and home.

Cal's Bears are rated #3 in the college football polls, behind the University of $econd Choice and LSU. We have a bye this weekend.