As a mother of a son in his twenties and a daughter in her thirties, through the years I have continued to learn the value of unconditional love, compassion and, of course, patience. Being a mother has always been incredibly fulfilling and at times a trying role for me.
If you’ve been to the year-old Marlins Park, it’s impossible to see much evidence of the Marlins’ glorious past. the most esteemed pieces of hardware – two World Series trophies – are in storage. Sure, you can see the home run monu- ment, complete with water cannons and jumping mechanical fish. there’s the Bobblehead Museum in the main concourse, the retractable roof, the fancy cor- al-lined fish tank behind home plate, and the girls dancing atop the swimming pool bar at the clevelander, in deep left field. But the World Series trophies? they aren’t around at all, not vaulted proudly for any to see. instead, they’re awaiting a permanent case to be constructed in the front office reception area. Before the 25-pound trophies reappear, they needed polishing. the Marlins mailed off the 2003 trophy last year to its famed creator, tiffany & co. the ’97 prize, meanwhile, recently returned from the expert polishers at commemorative Brands in austin, texas.
The trophies are a combination of tarnish-ready metals. Dirt collects in crevices in the stitching of the silver baseball that sits in the center, and the 30 gold-plated flags that line the top fall victim to the fingerprints of those lucky enough to hold it. the trophies aren’t unlike the current state of the Miami Marlins ball club. a tarnished image that could use expert polishing is an understatement. if this team were a trophy, it has been dragged for nine innings behind mascot Billy the Marlin. But if you look hard, if you ignore all the negativity directed at team ownership, you can spot the parts that have already been shined. Yes, there are places where this team downright glimmers.
Exotic encounters with orangutans await in this island adventure.
“You’re going where?” they ask in unison.
“Borneo,” I say.
Amusing responses from dear friends erupt. “Can’t you ever go anywhere normal?” And my favorite line: “I love redheads!” referring endearingly to the reddish-auburn fur of the indigenous orangutans.
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