It’s 3 a.m. in Africa. I’m probably the only one awake here at Mayfield Guesthouse, but I can guarantee you I’m the happiest woman here. Or in all of Africa. Or… just a live. Yeah, that sounds about right—the happiest woman alive.
I woke up to watch the Cubs/Cards game on ESPN. I haven’t seen a baseball game in more than 14 months. Chicago Cubs. St. Louis Cardinals. Wrigley Field. A night game in late August. The wildly emotional Carlos Zambrano vs. Cardinals’ stupid-head Kip Wells. Oh, America!
All day, I invited people to join me. Problem was, most of them were Australians or people like Kimmie, whose main concern in the matter was that I would still be ready to go do some last-minute supply shopping with her at 9.
So, yeah, I’m here alone. Which isn’t quite the same as watching the game at Murphy’s with Lauren or over steaks at Kirk’s or with my equally fanatic friends or even in the newsroom, for that matter. And then I messaged Daniel, who I know to be on a night bus back from Lamu with Jen. His lackluster reply: “I’m glad for you. I’m very tired.” He grew up behind the Iron Curtain in Germany and hadn’t touched a baseball until I met him, so I guess he’s forgiven. I guess.
Go Cubs, go!
No comments:
Post a Comment