It’s early on a Monday morning and I’m sitting on the balcony. The wind is blowing gently across the top of the trees. The leaves are starting to sound arthritic with the late summer breeze.
The lions are roaring across the DesPlaines River from their den at Brookfield Zoo.
The week has started off…. Hell, the month has started off with a vomiting child and an overnight error that needed to be covered.
My mom told me if a child lays down and says their belly hurts be prepared for vomit at some point.
My mom nudge me just before the sound of a vomiting throat.
Her soft voice coming down from heaven…..
“Maybe you should have put a bucket next to Hazel’s bed last night?”
The bucket wasn’t there for the first pile of Comiskey Park delicacies. It was there for the second and third sessions.
As for the error….
One of my first bosses, Larry Dorf told me when a broker has an error to get out immediately.
A broker is not a trader. Cut your losses and move along.
So the month of August has started with a debit and a pile of eaten hot dogs…
The Sox are just at 500 and the cubs are back to where they are supposed to be.
1977 was the best year for me when it comes to Chicago baseball. On August 1st, 1977 the Southside Hitmen were 62-39. The cubbies were 61-42. Both in first place.
They both shit the bed in August and September and ended up in third.
I’m in first place right now and don’t plan on ending up in third.
