Monday, September 07, 2009

My life is pretty good.

My wife and daughter more than adequately supply me with the love and nurturing and blah blah blah that is inexplicably required by my built-in systems.

I love where I live, able to enjoy city life while living in a small neighborhood that features friendly neighbors and shopkeepers who know me well enough to guess what I'm about to order.

And despite the looming financial woes of my employer, my job has been great, providing me with intellectual challenge, engaging co-workers, and a paycheck big enough to let me live in this expensive city.

Finally, my friends are deserving of much praise. They are interesting, smart, caring, and funny people, who create art and good will in equal measure.

All of these things create an environment in my life where I'm delighted to be able to make an obscure geeky joke and be pretty sure that someone around me, whether friend, coworker, or family, will be able to understand it and fire one back in return. This particular thing brings me tremendous joy on a regular basis.

My life does lack one very important thing though. It is a hole in my life (and not that Angelina Jolie-shaped one that I often lament) that plagues me nearly 162 times each year.

You see, none of the people around me care as much about the San Francisco Giants as I do. Sure Hank enjoys some baseball and roots enthusiastically for the Giants. And Larry or Pablo would be happy to accompany me to a game and will cheerfully listen to my latest Giants rant, but when it comes right down to it, I'm the only one around here getting depressed when the Giants lose, or getting that little zip in my step when they win.

More importantly, and this is the precise hole that I need filled here, I need some human available to me either via instant messenger or via SMS who is very very Giants-savvy and can respond to important game-time messages about how freaking inept the Giants are every time one of them picks up a goddamn bat! I have time-sensitive jokes to make about slugging percentage and clutchiness and I need someone to reciprocate!

Ohhhhh, the hole burns!

I'm perplexed though. How does one fill this hole? Do I hang out and start commenting on Giants blogs, hoping to make a little e-friend? Do I lurk outside the ballpark at game-time, whispering equations involving veteran savvy multiplied by gamerness raised to the power of team chemistry?

Is there an MLB-Harmony site for me?


Monica said...

I have a solution for you. I have five kids -- way too many. The oldest, an almost 11-year old boy, is Giants crazy and he is making me crazy.

You can have him. No need to thank me. He's not tech-savvy yet, but he's teachable.

Send me your address and I will mail him forthwith.

The 4th Sister said...

well there ya go.....Monica has a solution for you...if you are not man enough to take her up on it don't be whining on your blog....