Emailing Heaven ... Mom, Send Help Quick!

To: Helen D. Gervase

From: Your favorite son

CC/BC:

Subject: Send Help Quick

Hey Ma,

Happy 16^th Mother’s Day in heaven. I sure do miss you. I know I haven’t emailed in a while, but it’s high time I did so. Things are crazy down here. We’ve got a global pandemic going on. And, I need your help.  

Before I fill you in, let me update you on the fam. Dad is still the king of Carmel (and its weekly newspaper). He lives on a forested hilltop, surrounded by deer, gardens of flowers, and the sweet companionship of a lovely lady who keeps him in check. She also prevents him from going out in shorts and knee-high dress socks. So we’re very thankful for her.

Christy is still in Monterey. She’s a superhero OR nurse and a hall-of-fame mom. She’s a quiet, humble expert in just about everything, from antiques to home remodeling. She’s like a sister-Siri. I can call her and ask her anything and she’ll have a helpful answer for me. (I can explain Siri later if you need me to). 

Jenny and her family moved out to Murrieta a few years ago. I miss that she’s not around the corner. She too is rocking her nurse’s cape and has taken her spot alongside Christy in the motherhood hall of fame. She’s also working her way up the multi-level marketing pyramid. She does it with grace, laughter, and a contagious amount of positivity. I can’t wait to see her at the top very soon. She’s a natural and must have been paying close attention whenever you tried the latest home-based sales program.

Ok, so like I said, it’s a tad wild down here. A weird virus came out of China and has quickly made its way to every corner of the globe. Basically, the whole planet has shut down. Over a million Americans have been infected and nearly 80,000 have died. The U.S. economy is below rock bottom and unemployment is sky high. We’ve been quarantined at home for nearly two months. Just about everything is closed. Schools, restaurants, and churches are empty. All the pro sports leagues are on sabbatical. Mom, I need baseball big time.

It’s a very unsettling and confusing time and is definitely unlike anything that I’ve ever seen. It’s now being called a “hinge” moment in history, like the Great Depression or 9/11. Not since 1918 has the world experienced a pandemic of this magnitude. Parts of the country are starting to re-open. But some people think it’s too early to do so, while others believe we shouldn’t have closed down as strictly as we did. It’s just so hard to know what’s going to happen. By some reports, it could be 18 to 24 months before we return to normal. Or a second wave of outbreaks might be around the corner. I’m not sure our country can handle either one.

You see, over the last few years the United States has grown increasingly divided. We are polarized politically and it’s driving people away from one another, within families, within churches, and across the country. People are restless and tired of sheltering in place. Tensions are high, the news media isn’t trustworthy, political correctness is out of control, and politicians are fallible (at their best). Protesting has become the new national pastime. Not that speaking out against injustice is a bad thing. I’m all for the first amendment, but it just seems to be getting out of control and often misguided. Protesting racial prejudice is good. Protesting beach closures seems selfish. And this Coronavirus is fueling the fire. I’m afraid something devastatingly violent is going to happen.

I was hoping and praying that a silver lining to this pandemic would be a unifying and a healing of our nation. That we’d become more unified as a people or that maybe God would bring about some kind of spiritual revival. That more people would do less looking out for themselves and do more looking up to heaven for help. Of course there’s still time, as I said, we might have 18 more months for God to ignite change.

So this is where you come in. Can you pull some strings, maybe get some one-on-one time with Yahweh, and possibly ask him to help us out down here? We really need this pandemic to peter out so everybody can go back to work. We’re desperate for some good news to quell the pressure that seems to be gripping the nation. Oh and of course, some extra helpings of the Holy Spirit would go a long way in turning more hearts toward heaven.

I know this is a big ask, but I’m not requesting this for myself. Personally, I’m doing really well. I’m diligently trying to keep the current batch of third graders engaged and active while teaching from home. And I’m privileged to quarantine with the most wonderful wife and mom. She loves me so well and I thoroughly adore spending our sheltered time together. Like Christy and Jenny, she too is a gold-medal winning mom. She’s is the epitome of patience with her kids. She’s full of wisdom, strength, and gentleness. She’s rarely frustrated and always unflappable. It’s almost as if someone up there knew exactly what I needed.

You always knew exactly what I needed when I was a kid, so I’m guessing you may have had something to do with bringing Beautiful Karla into my life. 

I’m going to keep praying for the aforementioned requests. I’m not sure how it works where you are, but please do whatever it takes to talk to Abba Father. Set an appointment, grab coffee, invite him over, or take a walk together. 

The world, our country, and our leaders need a lot of help.

And He’s the only one who knows exactly what we need. 

I Miss Baseball, Medically Speaking

The coronavirus-induced 41-state lockdown has us all longing for activities from our once normal life. I miss my friends and seeing family members. My toes and hairline miss both my pedicurist and my barber respectively. But what I really miss is baseball. Like clockwork, the end of March Madness brings April Fondness for the resumption of my first true love. Covid-19 has successfully stolen baseball from me like the Grinch who tried to steal Christmas. I always welcome Opening Day by marinating in my Baseball Dictionary. Each season brings a new collection of thematic baseball words and phrases. I’ve written about foods and animals, as well as geographical, spiritual, political, and romantic terms. And this season, with baseball in quarantine, what could be more appropriate than a compilation of medical and global pandemic baseball terms. Here goes:

A is for Aspirin:

The ball thrown by a fastball pitcher, in which it appears smaller than it is. Along with Advil, what not to take if you have coronavirus-like symptoms. Tylenol is recommended.

B is for Bleacheritis:

The name of a mock disease for the deteriorated physical conditioning of those who have given up active participation in athletics and become spectators. Every time I think I’ve kicked my case of bleacheritis I end up pulling a hip-flexor muscle playing slow-pitch softball.

C is for Chinese Blow:

A lucky hit; a fluke hit. Or the unfortunate impact of the coronavirus on the world.

D is for Doctoring:

Gaining an edge illegally by making the ball move erratically after it has been pitched. Also what the superhero physicians and nurses are doing to combat the coronavirus in the hospitals and medical centers day in and day out.

E is for Ear Syphilis:

A condition in which an umpire is overly sensitive to comments from players and fans and allows his performance to be affected. Or the condition affecting the people who refuse to listen to the shelter at home and social distancing guidelines. 

F is for Filthy: 

Said of a pitch that features a combination of speed, movement, and location that makes it unhittable. The speed in which Covid-19 has moved to nearly every location in the world makes it a truly filthy virus.

G is for Glove and a Prayer:

The assets of an ineffective pitcher. Also the only remaining tools of medical workers during the hospital-mask shortage.

H is for Hospital Throw:

A throw by an infielder to another that leaves the latter exposed to injury by a sliding or charging base runner. Also, the method used by doctors and nurses to share their under-supplied face masks.

I is for In the Neighborhood:

Said of a fielder who is close enough to touch a base. Or the only place Beautiful Karla and I can walk while the beaches and hiking trails are currently closed. 

J is for June Bug:

A rookie who is sent back down to the minor leagues by early summer. Or what we might be faced with if the virus isn’t eradicated by the end of May.

K is for Kill the Rally:

To end a scoring opportunity, such as by making the third out with the bases loaded. Or what the virus has done to President Trump’s and Joe Biden’s campaign gatherings. 

L is for Loaf Season:

A sarcastic term for the off-season. People around the country are using this time to learn new hobbies or skills. I’ve taken up yoga and in the truest sense of the term, bread baking.

M is for Mask Work:

The catcher’s duties. And what is now everyone’s practice when leaving home for groceries or errands.

N is for “No Catch”:

The plate umpire’s call when the pitch is in the dirt on strike three. Or what all who don’t acquire the virus will proclaim at the end of this predicament.

O is Official Distance:

Any field measurement stipulated by the official rules of the game; e.g., the distance between the bases is 90 feet. Six feet is the only official distance we care about right now. 

P is for Poisoned Bat:

The bat held by a hard hitter. Also what someone in China ate that started this whole mess.

R is for Ryanitis:

A mock disease that mysteriously struck hitters on the day they were scheduled to face all-time strikeout leader Nolan Ryan. Synonymous with Mr. Gervaseitis which is what my students have when they “forget” to open their google classroom while distance learning.

 

Nolan Ryan

Steve Sax Disease:

The sudden inability for a fielder to make routine throws. Named for the LA Dodgers’ second baseman who became plagued by wild throws. Or what doctors and nurses experience when their hospital throws are off target.

Steve Sax

T is for Two-Way Player:

A player who is proficient on both offense and defense; i.e. the Angels Shohei Ohtani. See also moms and dads trying to work from home and lead their kids through their schoolwork. 

Shohei Ohtani

U is for Untouchable:

Said of a player who would not be considered for a trade to another team. Also the feelings of someone with ear syphilis regarding their chances of catching the coronavirus.

V is for Velocity:

The speed of a pitch; that which determines a good fastball. The coronavirus’ velocity to circle the globe is equal to Nolan Ryan’s best fastball. 

W is for Wait ‘Til Next Year:

The plaintive mantra of fans whose team has once again fallen short of expectations. Also what many parents are telling their children regarding summer travel and vacations. 

Y is for Yard Work:

A home run. Also, along with Honors Chores and AP Cooking, what a lot of kids are studying during the quarantine.

Z is for Zip:

To shut out, i.e. Tigers Zip Yankees in 10 Innings, 1-0. Or to move quickly: The pitcher made his fastball zip across the plate. Also what the government is recommending us to do away from home. See also Nada, Zero, and Zilch.

Stay safe and stay healthy my friends. 

Home is Where the Heart Is

You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it's all right.  

-- Maya Angelou

We’re ending the second full week of national lockdown and I’ve only gone out in my car twice. It’s weird to see people wearing masks and to see whole aisles at the grocery store as empty as Dodger Stadium. It’s weird to see tape on the floor marking where you can safely stand to comply with the six-feet social-distancing requirements. I miss going to work, church, and the gym. I miss seeing my friends and I dislike doing meetings over Zoom and Facetime instead of over coffee at Starbucks.

I have been getting out daily, to walk the neighborhood with Beautiful Karla. But to run an errand almost feels wrong. As if the Covid cops are going to pull me over and demand to know where I’m going. I’m glad I have a lovely place in which to shelter. Not since George Jefferson has someone “moved up” as dramatically as I.

That said, a man’s home is supposed to be his castle, and mine sure is. One’s castle can come in many types, from a mansion to an apartment. You can have a bungalow at the beach or a cabin in the mountains. Maybe you yearn for your yurt or crave your cottage’s seclusion? Do you dance in a duplex or tango in your townhome? Hopefully, you’re not reading this from a halfway house, a house of ill repute, or a house of correction.

Wherever you find yourself, your home is where you hang your hat. It’s also where you dine, so make sure the kids aren’t eating you out of house and home. Speaking of food, do you bring home the bacon, or does your spouse? Perhaps both. I’m grateful for my wife. She’s a blessing to come home to and definitely someone to write home about. But then I’d be mailing a letter to myself. Back in the day, it was said that woman’s place was in the house. Thankfully, times have changed and we both work at keeping house. I admire those who choose to be stay-at-home moms. It’s a real challenge to juggle all the housework and the kids’ homework.

This down time is also a good opportunity to get your house in order. Not to be morbid, but in a spring-cleaning sense. Just make sure, as Jesus said, that your house is built on the rock and not the sand. I also hope that you have peace in your home. Always remember when you venture out to get the mail or return from visiting the backyard to declare, “Peace to this House,” (Luke 10:5). This reminds me of my childhood. When my father would return home from work, he would announce his arrival by shouting, “Hello the house!” Unfortunately, the house rarely responded. It can be rough living in such close quarters for so long. So remember to seek peace. Because Jesus also said that a house divided cannot stand. 

During this quarantine, you can be home free while your kids play house. These days I feel like a homebody, as I watch Homeland and everything else on Netflix. You don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to know that Ozark is the best show since House of Cards. Many movies have “house” in their titles. They’re usually horror movies, except for the Home Alone series, which was equally frightening to those who appreciate good movies.

There are almost as many songs about “home” as there are Biblical “house” references (887). Phil Collins repeatedly requested that we take him home, while John Denver needed the country roads to do so. Eddie Money more specifically wanted to go home tonight as opposed to Supertramp who desired to Take the Long Way Home. Genesis has a Home by the Sea and Carrie Underwood’s Home is Temporary. Geographically speaking, can you finish singing Sweet Home Alabama from your Old Kentucky Home before Milt Jackson gets Back Home to Indiana? Dido clearly understood sheltering in place when she sang Don’t Leave Home. Based on their hit, Won’t Go Home Without You, Maroon 5 clearly doesn’t grasp social distancing. Maybe front man Adam Levine saw too many Home Alone movies.

The Coronavirus has also knocked out sports from our daily lives. Basketball and hockey are on a hiatus. The horses aren’t coming down the home stretch (the Kentucky Derby was moved to September), and baseball isn’t even starting. There are seven players named House in the history of Major League Baseball. There are also three Householders too, but none of the 10 were household names. Frank House protected home plate for the Tigers in the 50s. He later served in the Alabama House of Representatives. Having passed away in 2005, House now calls Cedar Hill Cemetery home. 

Yes, this is a hectic time. It’s stressful and uncertain. The economy is in the tank and maybe even your job is teetering. But I hope that without the pressure of rushing to and fro, without little league, happy hours, and meetings, you’re finding a new sense of rest. Maybe you’re reading more or learning different habits to develop solitude. Perhaps you’re doing extended meditating or praying, or you’re finding creative ways to enjoy your spouse and kids. I even started daily yoga. I’m sure when our lives return to normal, when we return to being busy; working and shopping, eating out, vacationing, and gathering in crowds we might long for the quiet slowness of our so-called quarantined life.

We may even reflect back on this season and think that it wasn’t so bad. Perhaps in the words of a famous movie Dorothy we might just click our heels and whisper:  

“There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”