American Dreaming - 1990's / Part VII

As time went on, I became more at ease with living alone. After the first harsh northeast winter past, thoughts turned to thoughts of baseball. I joined a softball league that was formed with people from work. We stunk at playing ball but excelled at the before game and after game celebrations.

Most teams in our league looked upon us as an “easy win” and after our first circuit around the league our reputation and position in the league as the last place team was pretty much secured. We decided at that point that we would basically just focus on our strengths (drinking and partying) with baseball being a secondary pursuit during these games. Technically, it was forbidden to partake of any alcohol during a game (league rules) coupled with the illegality of the act (city park laws) but we bent them pretty badly at times.

We actually garnered some success in the second half of the season rather because we actually had more practice or we relaxed some… or maybe the other teams got tired running around the bases on our pitcher but, we actually won a couple of games. The celebrations after those games are still quite legendary in the annals of bar legend in Troy, NY.

The other aspect of life that I began to show a little interest in during the second year of my stint into this decade was an interest in the fairer sex. I dated a couple of women whom I met at work (I had no social life other than that which was achieved by working 60 hours a week). One relationship was particularly notable in this period. I met an older woman who was also in the throes of a marital separation. Coincidentally, she hailed from the same county downstate. We car-pooled for a time until we both were able to relocate to an area near our place of employment.

She was a great friend in those days when I really needed one. Because we were both basically going through some of the same things in our domestic lives, we seemed to find comfort in comparing notes and spending time together. Her relationship with her estranged husband differed from my relationship with my soon to be ex-wife in that there seemed to be regular uncomfortable confrontations when she had to interact with him and when she picked up and dropped off her son…another coincidence they had one child a son who was only a couple of years older than mine.
My relationship with my ex was pretty much a non-event after I moved out. The opposite of the emotion love is not hate. It’s indifference. Indifference was perhaps the best way to characterize my relationship with my ex.

Unlike the permanent outcome of my separation into divorce, my friend opted to reconcile with her husband (from talks with her later) seemingly for the sake of their son who took the breakup rather hard. Five years later, I heard that her husband was stricken with a terminal disease and passed away a few years later. In retrospect I’m sure her decision was the best for all concerned. While we remained close for years later, the experience was a tad bittersweet for me. I undoubtedly owe her a lot for being there and helping me through a difficult period. I believe we helped each other in that time frame. Even today I think fondly of her and wish her nothing but the best life can offer.

---Jim