it ain't back in the day; but you don't hear me, though

we went to the state fair last weekend. as always, we went with neil and melissa. they are always kind enough to let us stay with them when we come to dallas and we reward them by letting our son destroy a thing or two during our stay. thanks, brother.

last year, jackson won a basketball in one of the games on the midway. many of the games are a rip-off. check that. all the games on the midway are -by definition- a racket, but some of them actually afford the opportunity for a win. one of these is the basketball shoot. jackson won a ball there last year, and he's been talking about winning another one every day since. of course we stopped at the first booth we saw. jackson had just been stung on his shooting hand by a bee, so i wasn't sure he was going to do very well. being mr. sensitive dad; i didn't want to have him lose after all the expectation. his hand still hurt, and it was swollen and red. i bought him three balls for 5 dollars and he stepped up to the line. i should have known he would still sink two out of three. he picked out the money ball and then got talked into trying to upgrade to the oversize ball. hello ,five more dollars. goodbye, five more dollars. this time fortune got the better of him and he went 0 for 3. to tell the truth i was pretty relieved, as i wasn't at all interested in carrying that big thing around for the rest of the day.

growing up, basketball was always the second religion in our home. i can't even remember a time when i wasn't watching, practicing, playing, or talking hoop. my parents met at a basketball game, and my wife and i had our first date at one of my brother's games. sports is the common thread woven through the cloth that is my family. basketball is that golden thread that provides accent and definition. my brother and i used to spend hours every day over at the park by our home, endlessly shooting. my dad still has a few of his old trophies around the house ,somewhere. high scorer, mvp , all tournament. i remember going with my dad to watch him play. he was really good. neil and i got some good genetic hoop ability; but, we sure spent a lot of time trying to turn that into real talent. i love it , still.

getting older really sucks. what feeble skills i once possessed are now fading away like the color of our sofa. not enough at once to be really noticed; but, when compared to a distinct memory, the vividness is glaringy absent. my son loves basketball, and he is really good. i hope that continues , as i will soon be relegated to living the hoop life through his experience. here's hoping his fun helps my memories remain fresh for me. good luck, jackson.