How Terry got his name and other random notes
Last Monday morning presented a moment of reckoning that summer was closing.
Ready or not.
Late Sunday night, we returned from a week’s vacation in Maine. I was home Monday morning but the ocean’s early morning fog was still thick in my head. I drove by a few schools on the way to work. Parking lots were filled with cars.
Already?
Back to school.
Wasn’t it just Memorial Day?
I spent this past week trying to figure it all out. How time passes so quickly as you age. How I liked it better when summer started on Memorial Day and ended on Labor Day. As much as I hate to see summer end, I’m excited about autumn, my favorite season.
Some random notes, thoughts, questions and observations from a middle-age guy who just returned from vacation, trying to get focused as he wonders what ever happened to the dog days of summer….
▪ Really? They used to allow smoking on airplanes? No way.
▪ Ten things I want to learn to do well someday: hunt, fish, play the guitar or piano, dance, putt, build, paint, fix, plan, practice patience.
▪ Hell with the NFL.
▪ I’m fine with Cubs hysteria. Cub fans are loyal just as I’m loyal to the Cardinals. They’re excited. I understand. Some advice: It only matters if you win your last game. Win it first. Then boast.
▪ It’s fun to read Michelle Meehan Schrader’s column every other Sunday.
▪ I’m excited about Lovie Smith being the new football coach at the University of Illinois.
▪ I wish the Cardinals would have signed David Price last winter. I’m glad we did not sign Jason Heyward.
▪ Someday, I’m going to shoot my age in golf consistently. Here’s to living to age 99.
▪ OK. Last season was positive. But I still wonder if the Blues will win a Stanley Cup in my lifetime.
▪ Kurt Warner for President.
▪ Why do I occasionally wink and wave at nobody? I figure we’re on video continuously nowadays. Stores. Parking lots. Restaurants. So I look up, wink and wave at someone. May make someone’s day better. Who knows?
▪ My Mount Rushmore of favorite St. Louis athletes (three from each major sport): Gibson. Brock. Simmons, Faulk. Warner. Larry Wilson. Federko. Hull. Barclay Plager.
▪ I’ve received many Cardinal promotional giveaways in my life. Most have been lost or tossed except the bobbleheads. But you can’t beat the Stan Musial harmonica from a few years ago. I hope my grandkids have mine someday.
▪ Anybody here remember the old Jay’s A&W on North Illinois Street? Wish it were still there today.
▪ Ten things I want to forget: The 1968, ’85 and ’87 World Series. That column I wrote about 15 years ago about shopping for underwear. Mike Keenan. Striped, bell-bottom pants. Super Bowl XXXVI. Stan Kroenke. Disco. Tino Martinez.
▪ Ten things I hope I never forget: The voices of my mom and dad. Mississippi River Festivals. Corkball. The CheckerDome. Loisel Village. Jones’ Park swimming pool. Recess. Harry Chapin. The left field bleachers at Busch Stadium II.
▪ Measure of a good vacation: I didn’t turn on a TV once while in Maine. It was good for the mind and soul to avoid politics for a week.
▪ There’s no better baseball book than “October 1964” by David Halberstam. Published in 1995, it parallels the Cardinals and Yankees’ seasons in 1964. That’s the year I became a Cardinals fan. I was 5 years old. Magical.
▪ Why do I like riding my bike? Good exercise, sure. But it’s one of the few things that I can still do that I did as a kid. Ride a bike. I also like to stare out the window and daydream. Why? Because I still can.
▪ After all these years, I still get a little rush when I hear the music of an ice cream truck.
▪ After we bring back Jay’s A&W, then we start on the return of old BZB Diner on Main Street in west Belleville, then Sam’s Barbecue in French Village.
▪ You can’t beat the vanilla-orange twist cone at Dairy Haven in Caseyville.
▪ I will be fine on Sunday afternoons without the Rams. Golf. Bike rides. Reading. Family time. Life goes on.
▪ Damn. I wish we would have built that stadium for Bill Bidwill.
▪ I will be on hand when Terry Moore is inducted into the Cardinals Hall of Fame next weekend, along with Chris Carpenter, Joe Torre and former Cardinals owner Sam Breadon. Fifty-seven summers ago, my mom and dad named me after Dad’s favorite childhood ballplayer, Terry Moore, from Collinsville. Mom and Dad assumed I would be a girl. They did not have a boy’s named picked so I was Terry. It’s been a fine name. I was almost named Marty, after Marty Marion. I’m glad Dad’s favorite childhood player was not Pepper Martin, Satchel Paige or Enos Slaughter.
This story was originally published August 20, 2016 at 8:00 AM with the headline "How Terry got his name and other random notes."