I woke up Saturday morning in a musical mood. I decided to practice a few bars of guitar. I wasn't playing with any rhyme or reason, and I'm certainly not as good at it as either of my parents.
It was a pretty slow day around Casa Plumb, not much happened, really. It was a crystal clear night, and for some reason I felt like going outside and playing catch with dad, like I used to do when I was little.
So when I walked up to dad and asked him, he said, "Sure, sweetheart, no problem."
I sometimes wonder what I'd do without dad around. He's my best friend, has been since I was little, even though we're actually drastically different people.
As I was running to the yard, I realized I was woefully out of shape. Of course, running in sandals didn't help.
"Catch!" I yelled as I threw an underhand ball.
Dad had no problem, even at his age. Then he wound up like a pitcher and began his throwing motion. Sometimes I think that if dad weren't a musician he'd have been a darn good athlete. He's in excellent shape for his age and works out almost everyday.
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