Boys of Summer book Entry #77.1

July 20, 2004 - Bob

Camping NW of Indianapolis, IN

Right now my mood is a bit dark. I don’t know exactly why. The day is sunny and warm. Perhaps this is just fatigue. It is good to have the Reds and that little P.R. mess behind us. It’s good as well to open my heart to what’s before us.

We’ll have a nice little event at Hubert’s (MN) -- that will be well. THEN -- my eyes are tired.

I’m a little bit sore, too, from my jogging the last couple of days. I need to jog and be sure to do my pushups as I know my staying in shape and keeping my blood flowing is part of what keeps me healthy. No time for sick out here.

Maybe we’ll get to a Waffle House today? It may be our last shot at this iconic place (there are over 1400 of these breakfast diners in 25 states according to the web site -- I swear we’ve seen at least a couple hundred). And as this is our last scheduled stop in “the south” we may just have to...

Dan:

We have been on the road for one month and have been to 14 parks. It seems to have gone very quickly. We pack up and are on the road by 9 a.m..

 

We have a light breakfast of Clif bars, then are off to Louisville. Louisville seems to have a few blocks of vibrant, new buildings and several miles of tired old ones. We go to Kinko’s for about 3 hours of work. Afterward we go to the Louisville Slugger museum. They do a big business in tours as well as making bats.

After the tour, we try to find a place to eat lunch and end up at a Hardees just outside of our next destination, Fort Knox. It has nothing to do with baseball. I was stationed there 37 years ago for my Armor Officer Basic Training. It was a 10-week course which, together with my ROTC training, was supposed to make me ready to be a Platoon leader. I don’t think I have ever felt so unprepared for any task in my life. 

Boys of Summer - Entry #51

July 3, 2004 - Dad

Red Top Mountain State Park, GA 

We are up and on the road again by 7 a.m.  We plan to drive to Atlanta today.  We stop at St. Augustine to check out the beach before turning inland.  We turn west at Jacksonville and before long are crossing into Georgia.  

After 12 hours on the road, we reach Atlanta and have a donated dinner at Sweet Tomatoes (thank you, Sweet). Then it’s off to find Red Top Mountain State Park which is 15-20 minutes north of Atlanta. By the time we find the park, it is dark. We are getting pretty good at setting up camp in the dark. The temperature cools off to the low 70’s which makes for a better night’s sleep.

July 3rd, 2004 - Bob

Red Top Mountain State Park, GA 

As I was tired last night and going about business that I felt needed to be done, I thought to myself, I hope I don’t “work” this trip away. There are good things to enjoy along with the work elements (necessary as they are). Do my work and release myself to the moment, I keep saying.

Today was a long (but scheduled as such) drive from Miami to Atlanta. It’s all a part of the experience. There’s a long way to go and every day is special -- even the seemingly mundane stuff like long drives. It does afford good, uninterrupted time to talk and listen to radio-magazine programs on NPR. 

It’s strange and more than a little difficult to see my dad get tired as he does or not be able to move or lift as he once did -- not that any of these things make up the core of who he is, but they are part of my perception of him. Seeing him slip a bit physically takes away the Herculean idea most boys have (or had) of their father.

I remember my dad as the iron man who ran 6-8 miles a day. The Bay to Breakers was a classic run where we’d drop him off in San Francisco (“it’s so early” I think I whined once or twice -- yeah, “poor us”, we actually had to wake up to sleep in the back seat as Dad and 10’s of thousands of other psychos challenged the Hayes Street Hill). We’d meet Dad at the end, struggling to find him in the sea of humanity -- but always finding him, usually by his smile and his arms in the air (complete with very sweaty pits -- dad was quite a sweater).

I remember when I was a little boy, camping at Big Sur (near Monterey, CA). We climbed what seemed like an insurmountable hill and my dad smacked tennis balls up at us. We squealed with delight as the balls came near us and occasionally hit us. I’ve been back to that hillside since -- it’s not nearly as precarious as it seemed as a kid. I had the feeling that any of these balls could knock us loose from our “hiding place” and we’d go tumbling down the hill to...well, I guess those leaves wouldn’t have been too bad to land in.

I remember, too, a time where Dad and me were riding our bikes home from church (I was probably  about eight): A dog tore out of a yard we were passing by, barking and nipping at my heels. I was scared to death. My dad turned and fired a rock (where he got it I have no idea), he either hit the dog or scared it bad enough to have it scamper back to it’s yard. 

 “Keep your dog in your yard!” My dad bellowed. 

A tear of fear turned into a tear of pride just like that. The hero’s legend grew.

Once when I was in high school, my dad (in nothing but his well-worn tighty-whities) unwittingly came face to face with a cheese thief in our garage. I mean it -- the guy was stealing ten-pound block of mozzarella cheese (my dad makes great pizza). When my dad opened the door to the garage, he and the thief took one look at each other, screamed and ran in opposite directions. A moment later, my dad regained his wits (sort of), went out into the street (still in nary more than those tighty whiteys) and tore the license plate off a van that he was pretty sure harbored the dangerous cheese thief. The huge police dog that eventually flushed the thief out of the van had nothing on my dad.

So now the flesh from his chin sags slightly. His jaw is often slack, an effect of Parkinson's -- sometimes making it look as if he has gone away. Part of him, physically, has. And though that hurts, I know his mind and spirit are fully in tact. I see Dad and I as two souls on a different path (at least, by the time I entered this realm). We have clashed or, perhaps even more painfully, simply not connected and not understood how to many times throughout our lives. 

But I see now, in this blessed time we get to spend together, that we are far less different than either he or I once imagined. I love and am thankful for him -- all of him -- every day.

Boys of Summer - Entry #50

Park Number Four (of 30) at Tropicana Field

Toronto 14, Tampa Bay 0 -- PEEEEEEEE EWWWWWW!

WP: M. Batista (7-5)   LP: M. Hendrickson (5-6)

Oakland WINS 7-3 over Anaheim!

LATER...

Dad and I did get up to go pee at about 3 AM. No ‘gators. Not much sleep afterward either, though.

July 2, 2006 - Bob

Oscar Scherer Campground, FL

I’ve said it before - countless times, though I don’t know how much (if at all) I’ve put it in writing. So in Ruthian, calling-my-shot terms, I’m doing so right now: Stephen King and I are connected, I believe. 

I’ve come a long way as an artist and in many ways I’ve been brought along or at least guided by his works. These Dark Tower works (I just completed the sixth, “Song of Susannah”) touch my soul deeply and meaningfully. So what will I do now? Have I, with having made my little video and having met him, served my term? Have I done my complete tour with Ka? My mind (pray not it be my ego alone) says not. 

Methinks there is more work to do. Me feels there is more life and love to share. Earn his trust and respect, treat his words with caution and respect -- for his life is held within them I know that -- I’ve felt that and...I am here.

I am working on a spec script for “The Long Walk”, a story he wrote back in the 70’s under the pen name, Richard Bachman. When I met him in June, he gave me the go-ahead to write a spec version for him. I look forward to getting it to him...and I dread it at the same time. What if he hates it? Oh well...you do your best, kid. 

I am hopeful, too, as we talked a fair bit of baseball at that time. I told him about this journey and he was intrigued. He gave me his contact number in Boston as he is making a particular effort to be at as many games as possible for an upcoming book project he is working on. My hope is the wheel of Ka turns our way and we can meet him for dinner when we’re there next week. 

July 2, 2004 - Dad

Miami, FL

We went to sleep last night to the sights and sounds of very loud thunder and flashes of lightening, followed by very heavy rain.

We are up this morning and on the road early on our way south to Miami where we have a tailgate scheduled.  The National Parkinson Foundation was kind enough to arrange for two rooms for us at the Sheraton Hotel in downtown Miami.  This is very nice, especially after our adventure last night.  

At the hotel, we relax until about 4 p.m. when it is time to go to Pro Players Stadium (where the Marlins play). We arrive after stopping at Costco to pick up a cash card donation -- they’ve been great everywhere we’ve been. We have a head count of 29 at our tailgate party -- more than half of them were from NPF.  Pro Player is our first dual purpose facility.  It is also home to the NFL Miami Dolphins. 

Despite being the defending world champs, the Marlins don’t draw very well. Tonight the Marlins lost to Tampa Bay.  Bob and I are interviewed on live Fox Sports TV. We hear later that my nephew, Patrick Cochrane, who is watching TV in Seattle, happens to see the interview.  

July 2, 2004 (LATE PM) - Bob

Miami, FL

It was a great game. Miami is a wonderful place -- SOOOPER hot (and muggy like root beer). Pro Player is not a great baseball stadium -- that’s no secret. But it is a great place to watch a game. The small crowd was very passionate (one year after a championship, one would hope so) and there was a fun, family atmosphere. 

Everywhere one looks in Pro Player, there is football. Even looking at the field, I much more expect to see Dan Marino pitching than Carl Pavano. The Marlins mascot (a Marlin, fittingly enough) seems to have a great time buzzing around the warning track on a yacht on wheels with the cheerleaders (oh yes, they have cheerleaders) tossing t-shirts into the crowd. Good work if you can get it. 

We had a pre game party that was small but fun. Whole Foods was excellent -- chips, water, soda, buns, dogs and condiments -- many, many thanks to them for their donations. My only sadness there was that they (the Whole Foods group) didn’t show up to the game -- it would have been nice to meet them and thank them in person. 

We have a long drive tomorrow and I’m tired already. 

Park Number Five (of 30) at Pro Player Stadium

Tampa Bay 4, Florida 2

 WP: J. Colome (2-1)   LP: C. Pavano (9-3)

Oakland loses 7-3 to the Giants

WP: K Rueter     LP: M Redman 

Tailgate in Miami

July 3, 2004, 11:46 am »

We really enjoyed meeting all of you, yesterday. We couldn't think of a better way to celebrate Nicholas' 2nd birthday. Hannah hopes that Dan enjoys his special rock . We will keep checking in to see how the rest of your trip is going. Take care and be safe.

Heather Tavio and family

P.S. We DID love the music too.

Boys of Summer - Entry #49

July 1, 2004

Interviewing Dad

Bob:

What did you hear in the woods?

Dad:

Well, we’re too far south for a Sasquatch. It sounded like it was big and furry and coming at me. But then it didn’t come at me so...I figured it was small and slimy and more like a frog. Probably without teeth. 

Thunder booms above.

Bob:

How do you feel about that thunder?

Dad:

Thunder’s no big deal. It’s always a ways away. The worst I’m going to do is get wet from the following storm.

Bob:

Not worried about the lightning?

Dad:

No. Not worried about the lightning.

Just then, something rattles in the bushes. We look around, but don’t find anything. We agree that’s a good thing. I continue to ask dad questions about Tropicana Field and Enrique when he suddenly stops.

Dad:

There’s another noise back there. (Laughs) Enrique was a really inspirational guy. He’s very enthusiastic and he’s certainly made a wonderful life for himself even though he’s been blind all his life. He sees what a lot of people don’t see who can see. He very much enjoys life and isn’t at all put upon by his condition. It’s a good lesson for me.

Bob:

How are you feeling about your bug bites?

Dad: 

I wish I didn’t have them. They’re pretty aggressive. I was saying earlier I think they’re holding they’re nose and going in for a meal. 

Bob:

How much “Off” do you have on?

Dad:

A double dose and I’ve still been bitten by a couple.

Bob:

How was it being back to baseball today?

Dad:

It’s really good to be back to baseball. I enjoyed the time off, but it’s good to be back to baseball. Today it seemed like it was kind of a blessing that we weren’t distracted by a pre-party, we were just able to enjoy the game. The only distraction and it wasn’t much of one was the television crew who were following us around for a third or half the game. They were very gracious and thorough. It was a bit of a distraction, but a worthwhile one. 

BOB’S TAKE on Tropicana’s All-Access Press passes

Getting to walk through the tunnel, is pretty special. When you walk through the area where the players are right before they take the field, it’s this dark, concrete, enclosed place -- almost tomblike (thunder booms overhead)...and that’s some serious thunder...and as you’re walking through this tomb, you hear the echoes and footsteps. Then you go a little further, you’re looking down at the steps and as you step up, all of a sudden, the field opens up before you. And in my mind, I hear the big dramatic theme music, like from “The Natural” when Robert Redford knocks the stadium lights out. It’s pretty special. 

July 1, 2005 (LATE PM) - Bob

Oscar Scherer Campground, FL

The thunder rocks tonight in this campground. Wow, what a show! There’s lightning popping everywhere. It illuminates the sky. It was a great time doing a video standup for the documentary with all these conditions going wild. It’s important to capture the moments in the moment and we will reflect on them in due time -- for now we are real and true to what is present and that is good.

I’m thirsty but I don’t want to drink too much water ‘cause I don’t want to go out in this crazy weather. Don’t want to visit any of the creatures around us either -- red eyes or not. Just say no to ‘gators.

Once again my faith is being tested here: “We will be safe inside of this tent. The tent is weather (and lightning and ‘gator) resistant. It is all but nature and we are but part of it.

I breathe and it is good. 100 percent.

Boys of Summer book - Houston, June 24, 2004

This blog continues its path, sharing the inside details of the follow up to the award-winning documentary, "Boys of Summer". For more details, to watch the film or contribute to the sequel, please click here.

An email of support, sent June 24, 2004:

Dear Robert,

I'm not sure if this is the right way to contact you, but have decided to try anyway. My name is Lauren McCutcheon. I'm a board member of the Philadelphia chapter of NPF, locally named The Parkinson Council. Our chapter's web site is www.philaparkinson.org. 

If this isn't too last minute, I'd like to help in any way at all with your visit to Philly. As a member of the media, I'd be glad to contact the Phillies staff and media outlets, if you think this would be appropriate.

Looks like you, your dad and your crew are having a blast — and working really hard to make your dream come true.


Best wishes,

Lauren McCutcheon

June 24, 2004 - Bob

Houston, TX

Faith, community and miracles.

These three things are fast becoming the centerpieces of what we're doing. It warms my heart to have people come out and show the kind of support and love toward us they have. Things are opening up on a daily basis -- they've been happening so fast I find it difficult to keep track.

Sharing this journey gives me hope and belief in everything I know to be true about the goodness in people's hearts and souls. People want to give, they want to be part of something meaningful and they want to be loved. By offering what we're offering -- a community experience at an already beloved event (baseball) -- people are coming out and enjoying themselves and opening themselves up in a simple manner: just doing what they would do anyway.

When I asked my dad about this process, he just smiled and unflinchingly said these are miracles going on all around us -- I froze and tear up. It's wonderful to see how alive he is, how present he is and how happy he is.

We are grateful to and humbled by all of you the love and generosity.

Camping the night before at Guadalupe River State Park, TX

In Minute Maid Park.

For more details, to watch the film or contribute to the sequel, please click here.