My dad was in town this weekend from Portland, OR (probably the reason my posts fewer and further between than normal). He was passing through, on his way back to Portland from a Subud Congress in Austria, where he’d produced and designed a cd of a special symphony performance. He had worked the whole three weeks he had been away, and instead of letting the man rest when he finally arrived at my apartment Friday, after many hours of travel, I put him to work. Well, okay, I did let him sleep that first night, but Saturday morning, it was time to get busy.
One of the problems with living 3000 miles away from your parents is that they aren’t around when it’s time to move, assemble furniture or fix broken-down cars. This is the third time my father has been to visit me since I’ve lived in Philadelphia, and I’ve always had a list of things waiting for him to do around my apartment when he arrives. A trip to Home Depot is inevitable.
In the past, I’ve assumed that a big hug and the promise to change his diapers when he is old and incontinent is ample payment for the effort he puts into making my home a little bit nicer. But this time I decided it just wasn’t enough. In exchange for fixing a drawer and mounting a spice rack, I took him to a Phillies game.

Attending major league baseball games is a big treat for my dad. Portland is home to the minor league Beavers, and the next closest team is the Mariners, three hours away in Seattle. So the man doesn’t get to see many big league games, and for the fanatic sports fan he is, it’s hard on the system. This is the second time in two years he’s come to visit during the Phillies season, I’m beginning to think they are as big a draw as I am.
But anyway, the game. We went with a bunch of my friends. Had a cookout on Seth’s back deck in South Philly before hopping the Broad Street Line down to Citizen’s Bank Park (I still hate that every ballpark is named after a bank or other major corportation, but that’s a complaint for another day). We arrived a little late, but still in time to get our free Pepcid Complete baseball cards and free samples (does the whole world have heartburn?).
Our seats were on the third base side, on the terrace. The night had cooled off just enough that it wasn’t uncomfortably hot, and with the nice breeze that swept past every couple minutes it was a really pleasant weather night. My first realization when we sat down was not about baseball or even the food for sale just behind us, but the fact that THIS is where all the single, straight men in Philadelphia are. I’m thinking that there are more Phillies games in my future.
The game then unfolded in the manner to which I’ve become accustomed. The lady with the cane, sitting directly in the middle of the row of seats had to use the restroom at least three times during the course of the game. My friend Cindy, who has NO interest in sports, after going through the contents of my bag, began playing Tetris on her cell phone. My dad found a kindred sports fan sitting in the row in front of us, and was able to have an “intelligent” sports conversation. Ice cream was obtained during the 7th inning. There was a wave started, which was fun the first and second times it went around, but by it’s fourth go-round, I was trying to figure out ways to kill it.
And then the game was over (and we won, a nice little bonus).
I think it was fair exchange. Home repairs for a Phillies game.
Next year I’m gonna need new flooring in my kitchen, I may have to buy better seats to make that happen.