
I'm up here in cold windy gray Chicago....doing a little business for my parents....repairing a window....looking for insurance and other tax documents....de-trashing a bit.
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I have my faithful pup, Ozzie with me, but it's lonely solo-ing up here and I still find it grim business to go through their house....despite discovering the occasional old picture from my childhood or even something from my grandparents.
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Today I focused on my parent's bedroom.....where I discovered a box of bills on my last trip.
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I got down on my hands and knees to search under their bed. I didn't find anything on my mother's side....although something was on my father's side of the bed.
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On hands and knees again....I peered under his side of the bed........and laughed.
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Yep....like father....like daughter....a big ol' baseball bat.
A classic Louisville slugger.....a left over from the old neighborhood.
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I admit.....I have a baseball bat under my bed too....it's the preferred burglar alarm and intruder weapon for any self-respecting person from the south side of Chicago.
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I've never used my bat (even when angry at my hub) and I probably wouldn't remember it was there....even if I did hear a strange noise in the house....but the tradition continues.
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So I called my daughter up.
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"Listen....when you come to Chicago in May....I'm going to give you your grandfather's baseball bat."
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Silence.
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"You put it under your bed...a south side burglar alarm."
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"I think you showed me the one under your bed."
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"Good.....good....so now you'll have one too...you don't have to beat anybody up with it......you just put it under your bed and leave it there."
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"Okay," she said but I could hear the slight hesitation in her voice....exactly what you would expect from a modern young woman who did not grow up in an old ethnic neighborhood.
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"Anything else Mom?"
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"No," I said...and with one hand.... pulled the bat out from under my father's bed.
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"What are you doing ?"
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"Trying to insure a good night's sleep for myself."
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I slipped the bat under my side of the bed.
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