The Detroit Tigers narrowly missed being no-hit by the lowly Oakland A’s today and, as of this writing, lead 1-0 on an Austin Jackson home run. Had they been mowed down without a single hit, it would have been proof positive of one thing, and one thing only: that I have not been diligent enough in warding off evil spirits and bad luck.
Posts tagged: Dad
THE NEUROTIC TIGER
CURSE, BLESS ME NOW WITH YOUR FIERCE TEARS, I PRAY
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears,
I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
–Dylan Thomas, “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night”
Here’s the obituary I wrote for my Dad, who passed away just a few days ago:
CONVERSATIONS REAL & IMAGINED: VETERANS IN THE FAMILY
“Yeah, when I was eight I saw my Grandpa burn a flag. In an old trash can he had, but in the heat of summer. Boy did he sweat. This was 1976, the Bicentennial year, and the flag was older than I, something he’d had and flown for many years.
“It was ragged dirty, but what sealed its fate was a replica of what was called a “Bennington” flag, a half circle of stars surrounding an antiquated ‘76’. Grandma bought it for him. Real cotton. Both were real cotton.
