Ain’t got nothin’ but work babe, eight days a week

Image: Barn Images via Unsplash

Image: Barn Images via Unsplash

Of course. He was named after Carl Hubbell, the greatest screwball pitcher in the history of the National League.

Herb Tucker in Neil Simon’s I Ought to be in Pictures

American baseball player, Carl Hubbell, was born on this day in 1903. (died 1988).

A few short months ago I spoke those words as Herb Tucker in I Ought to be In Pictures at Jewish Family Theatre. It’s a true story that, before I read the script I would not have been able to give the name Carl Hubbell in a game of Trivial Pursuit.

Nothing wrong with that. I can enjoy a good baseball game. But I’m not baseball’s biggest fan.

It’s Tuesday, the second day of summer and I’m sure there are baseball games somewhere.

Already it seems like fall will be here too soon.

I mean, I haven’t been to the beach, haven’t been sunburned, haven’t had enough watermelon.

Time, perhaps our most precious commodity, marches on.

Forty years ago this summer I had just graduated from high school and was unsuccessfully looking for a summer job before I went off to college in Kentucky.

I don’t remember much about that summer. A lot of planning what to take. I took too much.

I do remember that the country was celebrating the Bicentennial and that, although I was picked to represent my high school in a Bicentennial choir in Philadelphia, I didn’t have the cash to make the trip (see College: Kentucky).

But for me, in spite of my father’s desire that I find a job (I tried, perhaps not hard enough), that was my last carefree summer. After that I held a summer job each year, or traveled with a group from the college, or went to summer school.

I don’t know that I need three months off. I wouldn’t snark at it. But I’m also not one of those who snark about teachers “not working” in the summer. I know better.

Growing up I was always fascinated by those movies where families went and spent the whole summer at a cabin by the lake, or in Europe. Just how did they do that?

Sure, I know it happens. It’s just not on my list of experiences.

And, that’s okay.

My summers these days are different. For reasons that are my own and to which I may or may not have alluded to here, I don’t have any days off this summer since I’m working a weekend job.

Not entirely correct. I do have this weekend off as we travel, again to Kentucky, and then I have a week at the beach in August. But mostly I’m working seven days a week.

Sure, my summer’s busy. But there’s fun on the calendar. And it’s hot. And, mostly, dry.

I’m good with that.

The thing is, even though it’s summer, you can’t slack up on your goals. Because when fall comes you’ll be behind.

I’m talking to myself here.

I can’t let up on the writing. Sure, I’m on a mini break from acting, but I’m searching audition notices and preparing monologues, I’m not just sitting around eating bon bons.

I don’t even like bon bons.

Summer is typically the time to slow down. As mentioned, I’m taking a break here and there.

But summer is not the time to stop dreaming, or planning (teachers know this).

I’m looking forward to the week at the beach when I can clear the cobwebs out of my mind. It usually takes a me a day or two to wind down to that point.

But, this isn’t Game of Thrones. Forget winter.

Fall is coming. And we’ll be busy.


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