It must have been hard for my father to dash my eight-year-old dreams, his voice quivery as he assured me that I would not grow up to play second base for the Yankees. He replaced (or tried) my bat and glove with a tennis racquet, and we set out together to hit another kind of ball. But I still have my glove just in case. I'm a baseball fan.
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planet earth dwellers / forgive us our trespasses / we will right this ship
Marching Forward—Pete Buttigieg at Selma and Protestors Everywhere
Getting the Scoop—Aaron Parnas and Project Salt Box
Art for the Heart—“Sinners” and Olivia Dean sing, Mary Oliver laughs
bowing to beauty / oh-oh-oh, mm-hm-mm (hey!) / April’s a’flaunting