I have a tendency to get into some really random, amusing, unfortunate situations. Like last week when I took the Spider Monkey to the doctor. The Spider Monkey is my three-year-old male child who doesn't like to wear pants. We've come to a compromise over the past few months. He won't argue about wearing pants if I allow him to go without unders (except for at pre-school ... or church).

I did demand he put on unders for the doctor's office visit - because they tend to really pay attention to things there - like the way one parents.


Doctor: I want to take a look at his legs.

Me: Oh, good, I actually got him to put underwear on today. "We" usually like to go commando.

Doctor: ......................

Me: I mean, not we ... collectively. Just. Him.

Doctor: ........................

Given my tendency to do the wrong thing at the right moment, when the operators of the Kingsport Mets chose to hire me to serve as their General Manager way back in 1999, they really didn't know what they were getting themselves into.

I didn't either.

One of the very first things I wanted to do was get a new team mascot. The old team mascot was an eagle. Well, basically just an eagle head, most often sitting on the top of a really skinny teenage body wearing a Kingsport Mets uniform.

An eagle head. A really ugly, moderately terrifying, slitty eyed, odoriferous, moldy, fuzzless in patches, eagle head.

Look at this guy. Isn't he cute?

I thought so. And? He was on SALE.

So, he's a big green dragon/dinosaur. What does that have to do with minor league baseball in the Appalachian League, you ask? Nothing really, but neither did an eagle head. An old, moldy eagle head. So I got the fine people at Hardee's to sponsor him.

Homer. Homer K. Mets.

I was so proud of Homer that when the opportunity came to introduce him at a press conference the city was holding one fine June morning, I jumped on it like David Wright on a pop up fly ball.

Look at Homer again. Homer would do well in, say, Antarctica, on a fine June morning, but without proper cooling (a vest with ice packs, appropriate hydration), not so well in the Appalachian mountains.


I was so excited that morning. I had on a lovely grey pantsuit, silver heels, a cute little lavender tank - I even had my briefcase. Homer and I stood together under a shade tree, waiting for our turn in the spotlight.

The kid that inhabited Homer that season* was a sweet little high-schooler by the name of Patrick**. Patrick was one of those nice kids who didn't say much. That made me nervous, and when I get nervous I talk. A lot.

I talked so much that morning I didn't quite catch that Patrick was actually trying to say something to me from inside his big furry costume.

But I figured it out real quick when he keeled over backwards and his head fell off and rolled across the green, green grass of Civic Park.

DURING the press conference.

I will say that I got a lot of offers for speaking engagements after that day. I don't know if it was because my reputation for fine entertainment spread across the land or if it was because of the cleavage shot all the town leaders got when I tried to drag Homer K. Mets to his feet while attempting to reattach his head, but I will say if you ever have need for a Moose Lodge luncheon speaker, I'm your girl.

*Patrick only worked for me for one summer. I don't blame him. My dear sweet friend Carrie Cornett Carpenter took over after that, and she might talk more than I do, so she never had any problems with unconsciousness. And, if you're ever in need of someone to dance on top of a dugout in a ginormous dragon/dino suit, I highly recommend her.

**Patrick, if you read this, I owe you a beer. Or seven.


  1. I love it. I knew there was a reason I always make time to read your blog, and this is it! :)

  2. The difference between you and I is that I wouldn't have thought to say, "I mean, not we ... collectively. Just. Him." I'd have just stared back wondering what his problem was.

  3. Ha! This is hilarious.
    And oh, a vest with ice packs? Is that the secret of surviving those suits? A Halloween mask pushes my limits.

  4. I am so flattered! And, yes, every time I hear "Brickhouse", my butt shakes involuntarily! And to think, I actually got paid for that... Whitney and I discuss those times quite often. We even came up with an idea for a comedy show this past summer based on our years at the stadium. You would have enjoyed that whole conversation we had in the pool!

  5. Ahahahaha too funny! I love the whole "we usually go commando" comment. I'd totally say the same thing in that situation!

  6. At least Patrick didn't go "Commando". Or maybe he should have? :)

  7. I laughed out loud a good three times with this. I really needed a good LOL. Thanks!

  8. And this is why I love you - precisely.

  9. And knowing the fine folks in Kingsport as well as I do, I can only imagine all the talk around town following the press conference.

    Thank you for sharing. I'm sure I'll think of this often while I'm working our conference baseball tournament at Hunter Wright Stadium - your and your hubby's old stomping grounds. :-)


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