Hey Facebook

Hey Facebook! I'm still here. Are you going to delete this from my news feed with no input as to why?

Of course you are. It is, apparently, how you roll.

Just tell me something concrete, will ya? That's all I really ask.

What's the Idea, Facebook?

All right, Facebook, what's going on? Five straight days now you take down my blog claiming it's spam. It's not. It's my everyday blog through Blogger. You've let me cross post it to my Facebook page for years, and now I can't?

You've got some explaining to do. Start right now.

This day in Marty history

Facebook really has the pulse on my life. This morning I was reminded of two things which took place on July 25 in my history, one cool, one, well, I guess funny.

On this day in 2016 my son Frank and I saw the Detroit Tigers take on the Boston Red Sox at Fenway Park. The Tigers won 4-2. Jose Iglesias cleared the Green Monster with a two run homer in the top of the sixth. Fenway Franks, the hot dog sold at Fenway, are incredible! I want to go back to the old ball park both to see it and have a couple more of those dogs!

In 2014 on this same July 25 I was given my first Senior discount at a Wendy's in Indiana. Seven years ago I got my first senior discount. I wonder how much money I've saved since letting my pride get out of the way?

So there's Today in History. My history.

Rumors of wars

My Facebook feed this morning offered me its usual list of recommended items and articles for my perusal. I wish I understood algorithms better simply to figure out why our Facebook overseers think I like what they think I like. You see, I don't think I worry as much about chaos and disintegration as Mark Zuckerberg apparently believes I do.

One article in this morning's suggestions spoke about the parallels between the current United States and the fall of the Roman Empire. We're going down that road, I'm afraid. Yes, yes indeed. The writing is clearly on the wall.

Maybe so, maybe no. The future is unwritten; we cannot, simply cannot, know exactly where we're headed. And while certain things might be very good conjecture, they're still mere conjecture.

I remember reading articles in the Seventies which purported to alert me then that we were going the way of the Roman Empire. Yet lo, here we still are today.

Republicans thought the Barack Obama Presidency was the end of history as we knew it. Democrats thought it of Donald Trump. We've survived them both. I'm not shocked.

All this worry is brought on by people who thrive on worry, whether it's reporters or the White House or the myriad individual hand wringers among us. We forget that, as the Good Book says, there will be wars and rumors of wars; part of the lesson there is that we should not put too much stock in such nonsense.

I suppose this is my long winded way of saying stop panicking, everybody. It doesn't help us solve the very real problems which exist of which the fear mongers try to take advantage simply to get their way. Don't give them that power over you. You're only helping them get what they want: your fear, because it feeds their hunger.

The rose and the Mud Hens

Facebook is quite nice. It helps us keep up with people, and reminds us of good times gone by. This morning it showed me a picture I had posted six years ago today.

After Detroit Tiger Stadium had been torn down but before the City took over the field, people could wander on the remains of the baseball diamond. I did just that several times, and even played pitch and catch with my family on the old field. Cool beans.

One summer day as I took my morning walk I ended up there, and roamed around the field for a few minutes. I noticed something on the pitcher's mound: it was an old Toledo Mud Hens cap, left with a red rose across the bill. I snapped a picture on my phone and apparently shared it to Facebook.

Such things are what stories are made of, and I wonder what the story is behind it. Was it a tribute to Tiger Stadium? A memory a person? A salutation?

I wonder. The picture is on my Facebook page again today. If I can figure out how to add it here, I will. But for now, well, I am happy that Facebook reminded me about it.

Facebook funnies

This is why facebook has a memories section I suppose. Apparently I had this short conversation with my granddaughter on this day in 2015:

My granddaughter and I just got back in from the softball diamonds, where we were having a catch, hitting, and pitching. At one point we had this exchange:

Her: "I want to throw a ball in the air and hit it myself."

Me: "Whatever you like, dearie."

Her: "Okay. But why did you just call me Gary?"

That does sound like her.