Not good today at all - just too sad

I’m so very sorry.

(I now need to catch up with your last month or so.)

According to Google Maps, my favorite dessert joint on Earth, the place I used to drag friends, lovers, and out-of-towners to, is now a construction site.  Oh, well.  There were less pricy places, but none gave more of an “undiscovered treasure” vibe (although it probably had been discovered at least by the time I left) or got return visits from people I had taken there.

Anyway, I have to go and make sure that stuff in my arteries is actually blood and not cranberry juice.

I printed out one of my photos from yesterday - Tom Terrific on the mound for one more time - and hung it in my cube. Since I survived that, I was about to try editing one of Mike and Tom - and then started crying again.

At least no one is coming to talk to me about it.

My manager just wanted to know if I stayed until the end. *humpf*

i went to school today and i cried i cried not for the mets not making the playoffs which many yankee fans though was the problem so i listened to them talk about how the mets suck and a bunch of garbage but i didnt have it in me to fight back i just had to cry i lost my home i lost the smell the feel and every thing that made shea my home i remeber leaving and going back to sec 12 to just touch the seat i sat in for 3 year because in that seat some one will own is a life my sweat from when i was nervous and when i was full of joy my tear and everything i left at shea is in that seat i have little comfort in knowing i will have a pair of seats that share the same emotions i shared at shea it will have seen the best games at shea and the worst games and what i would do to go back and see even the worst game just to be in shea

young mr. d. hang in there.

karen, we thought of you on sunday. i just wasn’t ready to talk to anyone yet.

I really never thought that I would feel much when they closed this dump we’ve called Shea Stadium. It was always a crappy ballpark, let’s face it.
Still, I have to admit that I grew misty on more than one occasion during the last days of Shea. I saw my first big league game (games, actually) in May of 1964, a double dip against the old Houston Colt 45s.
This place was a part of my life for 40 years.
Lindsay Nelson - gone.
Tommie Agee - gone.
Murph - gone.
Now Shea - gone.
Won’t be long for me, I suppose.