Home Away From Home

My new friend, Ms. Living on the Spit, posted yesterday about a local motel in her neighborhood, and that made me think about one in our area. This motel lives in the middle of a commercial strip.

We used to laugh about the am/fm feature, but always explained to our kids that this was on old building and we were sure the owners were holding out for a better real estate deal. Then we realized that the sign stays freshly painted, so the am/fm feature must still be a big deal.

One of our boys used to ask to stay at the War-Del. We tried to explain that maybe it wasn't intended for over-night guests. That explanation went a little over his head. We explained that we were only a handful of miles from our own house. We explained that we had a pool; the War-Del did not. We explained it looked a bit yucky.

Then our boy pointed out the one feature that our family loves. The War-Del is right next door to :

Very good point, son. I'll make a reservation.

What Was the Point of the Night Anyway?

We joined some neighborhood families last week-end in the big city. It was baseball night! Nothing more exciting than a beautiful, fairly new ball park.

What impressed my kids?

Was it the artistry?

Was it the 2 million steps we climbed to get to our seats?

Was it the 10 million degree weather or the gorgeous sunset that followed?

How about the cool score board and tiger with glowing eyes?

Was it our seats that were this close to the scoreboard?

Was it the fountains or the excitement of being in the one nice downtown area?

Was it being with friends?

Maybe it was those Little Caesars $5 pizzas selling for $14.50?

Or the amazing fireworks show at the end?

Could it be the rides within the park?

Perhaps it was the drunk lady who lost her balance and baptized me in her beer and then showed all those innocent cub scouts a side of the moon they had never before seen?

NO, NO, NO.

What my children took away from their night at the ball park was the image of the homeless man singing and dancing and asking for money. They didn't feel pity. They didn't feel compassion. They didn't feel even a twinge of responsibility. What they did feel was something akin to giggles at his silly song. And now my 6 year old has been singing the same song.

We had a fantastic night at the park. But someone mentioned that there was baseball being played while we there! I have no idea what they are talking about.