Another Buffalo story

I am back. This is my warning to you all. Do not forget to wish the Wife a happy birthday on Sunday. She will be pissed. That does not bother me so much, as having to hear about it.

Well, what can I say? I did forget this event on Sunday in Buffalo. The Lad wanted to climb the rock wall in Dick's Sporting Goods, formerly Galyans. It is a two story sporting goods store with a faux rock wall from floor to ceiling. We have done it before, when it was Galyan's and I thought it was a hoot, until I looked down, then it was less hooty for me.

I have a fear of heights. This goes way back. I can recall being in grade 5 or 6 and using the climbers in gym at elementary school. They were just ladders essentially that folded into the wall when not in use. I can recall my friends climbing up one side and back down the other with ease. I would hit the top.....and freeze. I was too afraid to go over. I did it, but I was fucking scared. Sort of like being on the Zipper. I would be shitting my pants but fuck if I was going to let anybody see how scared I was. It is good to be a stoic.

Anyway, the first rock climbing foray was like that. I looked down and thought what am I fucking doing? Then, the voice inside my head said, "Don't be a pussy! Climb that fucker, hit the bell and then rappel down." I remember getting up to the top (yeah me!) and when I got down, the adrenaline was still coursing through my veins. My legs were shaking, kind of like the feeling when I had that run with the mouse in the house.

This time, I thought the Lad was going to do it on his own. Then he says he wants me to go with him. What could I say but "okay". I cram my feet into those climber shoes, get my harness, and he does the same. He chooses the easy face and I take the one I had done the last time. He gets about half way up and that is as far as he is prepared to go. He did well and pushed himself, though I think that he could have pushed harder.

By the time he let go, I was about 6 feet above him. I stop and look down and try to get a grip. Fuck me for putting hand creme on earlier. It is now mixed with sweat and my hands are slippery and getting a grip ain't easy. Anyway, I am contemplating calling it quits, when my spotter dude says to keep moving up and move my foot up. I listen, and the next thing I know I am at the top, hitting the button and ringing the bell. I then let go and safely drift back down to earth.

I am sweating and my forearms are about to explode. The muscles are so engorged with blood. I am hoping to get the feeling back in them soon. I wipe my sweat and pat myself on the back for taking the challenge and not quitting.

On another note, I have a home game tonight. The Outlaws are coming for dinner, which means the Wife is cooking, so it will be edible, though my mother in law won't eat much. Apparently, her digestive system is geared to only handle the crap that she overcooks. They should be gone by seven, eventhough there will be a birthday cake for the Wife and her brother (born 4 days apart, with a seven year difference). That will be fun a bit of yelling between the Wife and her father.

It is times like that when I am reminded of one of my grandmother's favorite expressions, "Never argue with a crazy person!" Those are words to live by, so nobody argue with me! Have a great weekend on and all. I am hoping to get some sleep because I am getting tired of waking up at 5:30am for no apparent reason. Ciao!

BTW, if Willie is reading this, I guess I will see you on Monday at baseball. I look forward to it.