Did You Ever Wake Up and Know That the Day was Going to Suck?

When I woke up this morning, I had a feeling something bad was going to happen. I didn't know what, I didn't know how... but something, something bad was going to happen. My bills were coming up, so that could have been it... no, they were taken care of, or at least enough so I didn't have to worry about it. I spent the rest of the morning angry, grumpy, and not in a good mood. I was mad and scared and I didn't know why.

I tried to keep it to myself, not take it out on anyone, and I did an OK job. Not great... just OK. People could tell something was wrong, but no one asked. Good thing, because I didn't know why.

At 1:50PM I went back to my desk. I actually was feeling a little bit better; the cleaning woman was looking over my shoulder while I was sketching and smiled and another woman in the room had told me she liked my work last week. It made me happy to know that I made others happy with my art, the one thing I enjoy... and it made me feel better. I was still grumpy when I went back to my desk.

Then I found out Harry Kalis died.

I don't talk about sports much, and I couldn't tell you more than 5 people on the Phillies right now, or really more than 2 any year before last. I'm not a sports nut, but I love my Philadelphia Sports teams, and I have ALWAYS loved the Phillies. To me, they're the embodiment of what it means to be a Philadelphian. The never say die attitude, to strive for the best, and to try to achieve the best, despite what others will say.

Growing up, I didn't listen to a lot of games. I still don't. It's largely because of lack of time. I've been to 3 games in person. My first was against the Washington Nationals in August of 2006, and the Phillies won in the 12th inning. The other two were night games against the Atlanta Braves in September 2008. The Phillies lost both nights.

But the one thing that always made a Phillies game a Phillies game was Harry. Harry had the type of voice that took you back to a time when, at least to you, things seemed better. His voice recalled the golden era of radio broadcasting, had a tone of having lived through the worst years and some of the best. He had a voice as familiar in tone and ring as a church bell, or, to me, like Lemmy Kilmeister.

A co-worker asked me why I was depressed, and I mentioned what I just told you; I didn't know. I didn't think they were a big baseball fan, so I said, "Did you hear? Th guy who announces the Phillies games died today." "Wow, really?! How old was he?" I was kinda shocked she knew, but I forgot she was a fan like me. "Yeah. He was 73." "How did he die?" "Well... old age, I guess. He was 73."

"But 73 is pretty young these days." Wow. It really is, isn't it?