It Came out of the Sky

 

 If I added the sound clip from Creedence Clearwater Revival’s ‘It Came out of the Sky,’ Google’s algorithms would likely dish out a stern warning. Three of these and you can forget about blogging and hosting a You Tube channel again. I would never pirate John Fogerty’s music, he was stolen from enough in his earlier days, and I dug his work. Good for Google to protect artist’s rights. Incidentally, I grew up a few blocks from him in California. Living just over the city and county line, he went to El Cerrito High, myself Albany High. He is about six years older, which is a lot when you are young, and I really didn’t discover him like many until 1968. But this has nothing to do with what fell out of the sky.

Last Thursday afternoon, Feb. 20th my son and I heard a loud knock. It seemed like something hitting the roof, but I checked the garage to see if something fell. Nothing. We have a large Honey Locust tree in our backyard. Indigenous, seventy foot canopy, airy, tough as nails. We have it pruned every 2-3 years, and it has bent to all Mother Nature has thrown its way so far. Only once it deposited an attention getting branch on our roof. So I donned winter gear and before I could cast my eyes at the gray shingles above, the object in the image below sat in the snow alongside our patio. I picked it up, put it on our covered grill, and went inside to grab a tape measure. 

Something like this could deal a little insecurity to a guy. Er, I mean if I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, I could be a victim of a deadly game of DOGE ball where one less de-icer puts me on ice. Yeah, I’m thinking aircraft, likely from the frame…but did I just maybe handle something that was discharged from the facilities inside a jetliner? Yuk! Hardly an icicle was to be seen looking around anyone’s house, so all evidence points upwards. What about our roof? I grabbed a pair of binoculars and scoured the entire expanse of our split level and found no blemishes. 

Still, something could show up later in the form of destructive leaks so I deposited the evidence in a freezer bag and tossed it in the freezer compartment, hopefully not mistaking it for a jumbo Frosty Pop one late intoxicated evening. With a large homeowner’s deductible in place to help offset rising premiums, (thanks to those who dwell in paradise…until it’s burned or flooded), we could potentially be out some coin. So I called a regional office of the FAA just to flag the event, and miraculously got the correct building. The cooperative gentleman told me I do indeed have the correct location that could investigate the incident, but I would have to call a person in Fort Worth to help me.          So we shall see…

A Tale of a Bobblehead

 

 Back maybe in 2008 I attended a meeting with a friend.  Our sons had attended the same grammar school and at this time the same private high school. There was a Father’s Club, which would occasionally have prominent guests, a local radio personality, or at this meeting Roger Bossard. Roger, for those of you unfamiliar, has been the grounds keeper for the Chicago White Sox. Roger studied Agronomy at Purdue and his expertise has placed him in great demand. The impeccable grounds at Comiskey Park (and currently The Rate) combined with his patented drainage system, has garnered him consulting jobs at multiple other Major League parks. Roger relayed the story of the Prince of Saudi Arabia hiring him to install the turf for the first outdoor soccer field in this Arab country. Two 747 jumbo jets flew to Saudi Arabia…full of sod!  Incidentally, Roger’s nickname…The Sodfather!  

No one could have predicted the pandemonium that ensued on July 12 1979, not even disc jockey Steve Dahl, an avid White Sox fan, and the brains behind the Disco Demolition promotion. For $1 and one disco record, a patron could gain admission into Comiskey for this doubleheader. Attendance had been waning, but on this night, young fans outside were attempting to climb into the park which was completely sold out.When the records exploded in centerfield between games of this double header, chaos ensued. Fans flocked onto the field, destroying enough turf to cause the cancellation of game two.

Back to the Father’s Club meeting. Roger, speaking in front of the dads, still expressed anger about that day during the Q&A exchange. Sitting next to me, my friend Bob, who was one of those who had ventured on to the field that eventful evening. Oh how tempting to expose his youthful transgression to the Sodfather, but my lips remained sealed.  

Fast forward to June 2011.  My wife and I decided to go to a Sox game at U.S. Cellular. The night before was a rainout, and the promotion that night was moved to this evening. How lucky! We were recipients of this handout which was given to the first 20,000 fans…  

…

and I had just the idea! One of these ‘Rogers’ would appear at the doorstep of my friend Bob’s house with a note attached. “I am tracking down one by one each person who set forth on my turf on July 12 1979.”