I took a break from busking today and went to the ballgame with my son. For no other reason than because I could, and I was grateful to be able to do it.
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I learned yesterday about the passing of Bill Kennedy, an artist and photographer for the Cleveland Plain Dealer.
For several years a while back, I used to go regularly to spring training - sometimes in Florida, sometimes in Arizona - with a group of friends, all of them about my age, and most of them journalists. It was our chance to grow young again, even for a little while.
In 2004 one of the guys, who works at the PD, gave the rest of us wood block prints signed on the back by Billy Kennedy, each of which had a baseball theme.
I still have mine on my desk. It's a picture of a tired, worn baseball at the center of a whirring fan. It's called, obviously, 'Baseball Fan' and each time I look at it, I see peace in the middle of chaos.
Marc, thanks for the gift. And Bill, we never met, but thanks for your gift too.
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