C'mon, C'mon

The first outdoor baseball practice of the season was scheduled for tomorrow night. Mother Nature isn't cooperating so Coach P. and I called it off.

We've had a few indoor workouts. Those are pretty limited. A little fielding, some time in the batting cage, that's about it. Not much room for the kids to demonstrate what they can do and not much chance to have them work together as a group.

That's made it hard to get a read on them. There's one boy who needs to be convinced he can't swing a bat that's almost as big as he is, but we'll take care of that before Opening Day. Unlike last year, we don't seem to have any major projects. Everybody's played before, everybody can throw, everybody can catch.

Until we get them outside, though, it's impossible to know for sure. There's another practice scheduled for Sunday. We've got our fingers crossed.

Bon Appétit, Volume 9 - It's What's For Dinner

The beef arrived this past weekend and we all know what that means; a tallow-infused festival of cholesterol and grease. It also means it's time to break out some of my favorite recipes from that Snag family cookbook, "When I Said I Like My Steak Bloody, It Wasn't A Metaphor."

1. Hoof En Croûte

Dehoof twelve medium cows. Blanch hooves until just tender, approximately six minutes. While hooves are cooling, mix one gallon water, two chaffs wheat, and a teaspoon of salt and form into pastry shell. Wrap hooves in shell and bake in 350 degree oven for 215 minutes. Top with pineapple and serve warm.

Serves 7.

2. Gullet au Poivre

Thinly slice two bull gullets. Cover with paste and allow to marinate at least four weeks. While gullets are soaking, blend two ounces of poivres, a tablespoon of reconstituted mint, and a liter of food grade mercury. Remove gullets from paste and dry with a shawl. Dredge gullets in poivre mixture, then fry in a nonstick skillet until golden black. Serve with a dipping sauce made from reserved paste and three sardines.

Serves 12.

3. Crème de Cud

Squeeze the juice from three small ruminants. Strain into two highball glasses. Add one shot sweet vermouth, a lingonberry, and a handful of dried ice. Garnish with hair and serve immediately.

Serves 1.

4. Meat

Defrost and flavor beef. Cook. Cover with sauce. Serve hot.

Serves 8.

5. Liver Meringue Pie

Peel ten ripe livers. Beat livers with two cups meringue and a pinch of gravel, stirring vigorously until mixture takes on the consistency of shaving lotion. Season to taste with cardamom and brake fluid then scoop into pie tins. Bake at 500 degrees for 20 minutes. Remove from pie tins and surround with crust. Pour over brisket and serve chilled.

Serves 26.

Long Weekend

It's funny how the weather changes.

It's funny how other things change too.

My best friend R. has three sons, about the same ages as mine. He's known all of my kids since they were a couple hours old and I've known his as long and even though we live on opposite ends of town, a little distance doesn't change that.

Like any friendship, ours has traditions. We think it's important to pass these along to our sons. So, for many years, we've taken an annual father-son weekend somewhere. A boy had to be at least four years old to get invited and the first trip has been a rite of passage.

Most often it's been a lake cabin, a place we could teach the kids how to spit and swear and set things on fire. Once we went to the Field of Dreams, once to a water park. Every year, though, it's been somewhere, two dads and six boys.

The last few years it's been harder to schedule. The kids are involved in sports and that chews up a lot of the summer. Last year we moved it to spring. My middle son was with me for the last part of my yearly jaunt around the countryside, R. picked up my other two, and all of us met at a lodge not too far from the last stop of my trip.

The weather was cold and rainy but the place had a bar and an arcade. When your parenting style is based on threats and bribery, that's all you really need.

This year we decided to give it another go. My middle son was with me again and before I left I reminded my oldest to help his younger brother pack.

"I'm not going," he said.

"What?"

"I'm not going."

"Yes you are."

"No, I can't."

"This isn't open for discussion," I told him.

"Dad, you can't make me. Please."

"What are you talking about? We already have the reservations. This is the annual trip. You're going."

"Our new tennis coach said we had to be at every practice if we want to make varsity," he said. "I can't miss two days."

Finally the nub of the issue. Not that it made me any happier, with my kid or his coach.

"That's stupid," I said. "It's spring break. Lots of kids will miss practice."

The boy glared at me and stormed upstairs. His brothers took one look at my expression and scattered. A fairly typical evening around our house.

I was angrier than usual, though, and that's saying something for a person inclined to volcanic rage. So angry I left. Drove down to the park and stared at the lake for an hour.

When I returned home I found my oldest downstairs.

"How important is this to you?" I asked him.

"Extremely," he said.

"Alright," I said.

"Really?"

"Yes. Your grades are good, you've been helping out at home, and this means a lot to you. You can stay home."

And he did. This year it was two dads and five boys. We had fun, looked for rocks on the beach when it was nice, hung out in the bar and arcade when it wasn't, did the kind of things we do every year. It was plenty noisy. Still, I missed the oldest one.

The younger two boys and I got home last night. After dinner, when things settled down, the oldest gave his mother a copy of his tennis schedule.

"What's the deal?" I asked. "Did you make the varsity squad?"

He grinned. "Yep."

"Good man," I told him.

Which is what he is.

First Kiss

I was reminded by Blue Girl's story.

Friday night and I waited to meet a friend for dinner. It was early and the bar was quiet.

Across the room a man and woman shared a table. Coworkers maybe, out at the end of a work week, young, not long out of school. Comfortable with each other, friends. I watched them while I read my book. She told a joke, he laughed. Their drinks came and he raised his and smiled.

My friend was late and I kept watching. Not staring, just watching. They were still laughing, more quietly now. Their right hands on the table, not touching, but close. He leaned in to tell her something. She leaned in to hear. There was a pause, almost unnoticeable. She kissed him.

Quickly, softly, just a brush of the lips. They froze for a moment as the air around them changed forever. He sat back and so did she and then they began talking again, shyly, about something that didn't matter the same way anymore.

Where In The World Is Snag 2008 - Day 14

Where am I?

A. On one side of the Laurentian Divide

B. On the shores of a lake half the size of Rhode Island

C. Near the end of the road

D. Near the end of my rope

E. _____?

Where In The World Is Snag 2008 - Day 13

Where am I?

A. The clouds of Venus

B. Moose hunting

C. A back alley of Majorca

D. God only knows

E. _____?

Where In The World Was Snag 2008 - Day 12

Where was I?

A. In desperate need of a drink

B. At the intersection of Rage and Resentment

C. In a world with a strange golden orb in the sky

D. On the way to a hotel without working internet access

E. _____?