Right now, I am staring out at the Mediterranean from an office window. It's warm, very warm, and the horizon stretches to infinity as it is prone to do over large bodies of water (very cold water, as I learned last weekend.) I seem to have everything here - beaches, snow-capped mountains, mounds of hummus and tabouleh, freshly squeezed orange juice, palm trees, a bar where I can drink as much as I want for about $13...but I have this insatiable hunger for something I cannot have. I want to watch a Reds game, almost to the point of desperation. Yes, it is February, and no matter where on Earth I am, the hunger arises at the same time every year.
I had a dream last night that I was sitting in a ballpark, in all of its infinite green, and I could almost smell that hotdogs and hear the pop of a pitch hitting a mitt. Nothing like it, that pop. As I sit here now, I can almost hear the humming sound of a fastball tearing through the air, and then...pop! Such a beautiful song.