When most people reminisce, they recall the good things and tell tales about them often to the point that relatives and friends are ready to scream. This is one reason why it is good to have grandkids. They are new ears so it takes them a few years before they are ready to scream. Great grandkids are another blessing in that area. However, it is my belief that sometimes remembering the goofs are also good for the soul. Therefore, I thought I would put on my thinking cap and put them on paper for generations to see. Well, perhaps not generations since at some point mankind will actually figure out a way to dispense with paper. I know that computers were supposed to do that, but somehow, I don’t believe that they have!
One of my favorite goofs relates to softball which I used to love to play before I aged and slowed. There was one season where a bunch of us formed a team to play in a fast pitch league. It ended up with our being the only team in the league without a good fast ball pitcher. Obviously, our team did not do too well. One day, we were facing a splendid pitcher who had us hitless when I came up in the bottom of the last inning. After a couple of pitches whizzed by, I somehow got my bat around in the same level as the pitch, and I hit one into right field. Obviously, a sure hit. Nah, in my hurry to get moving I threw my bat down, tripped over it, went sprawling and got thrown out at first.
Then, there was the time in college when a girl I was dating decided that she would like to play some tennis. So, we went over and used one of the courts at magnificent Thiel College. We played, and then I apparently hit a serve too hard and the ball smacked her in the eye. No real damage, but she was not real happy about the situation. I don’t know for sure if it were related, but somehow, we did not date that much longer. Probably just as well as a few years later, I met someone much better. She didn’t play tennis so I couldn’t make the same mistake twice. In fact, I didn’t even suggest that I teach her the game. It pays to be extra careful sometimes.
Then there was my “13/13” experience after I started my career. At a particular point there was a large federal program that was supposed to help cities and counties provide jobs and help their economy. (a familiar story). In any case this one large consolidated area consisting of a county and two cities had a crisis. They thought that hiring a city manager to straighten out the system would be a good idea. I was a city manager, and ended up going there. I soon found out that I had made a monumental goof as their definition of correcting things and mine were entirely different. For example, we found out that one ethnic group that was getting a considerable sum had a director who also paid himself as a worker. When we discussed it with them, his assistant exclaimed, “Well, he needed the money.” There were some criminal charges placed. The result was that the assistant got some jail time, whereas the director who received the money got off with not even a warning. There were some other bizarre activities, so I decided that as soon as a year was up, I was leaving. It actually took me 13 months and 13 days to go back to being a city manager. I stayed as a city manager the rest of my career.
Now, not all my life was a series of goofs. For example, there is 2-11 in a year in the past. On that date (year a secret), The Blonde in the House and I became engaged. See, I can get it right!
Barry Evans is a columnist for Villages-News.com.