I often reflect. It is not uncommon for me to zone off while on the subway, waiting on a line, reading, or sitting in traffic. While some may consider this a form of ADD, I consider it a type of healthy meditation. It can be quite relaxing to mentally find yourself at some other place and time. Lately, however, I find myself reflecting on the events that transpired in September of 2007. And this is not relaxing. 7 with 17 to play. . . 7 with 17 to play. . . 7 with 17 to play. It is a time and place that I have involuntary- and inexplicably- found myself going back to over and over again. What makes the situation even more disturbing is that I have been exhibiting emotional responses through physical reaction that can be dangerous. Have you ever sat on a subway and have some rambling nut next to you? What is your reaction? You might stand next to him ignoring him, awkwardly acting as if everything is normal. You might move to another part of the car, where others who have already seen this individual are concentrated. Or you may get off at the next stop and get on another car. So, as I sit on the A train, listening to music, and inadvertently think of a meltdown of unimaginable proportions by a team that has made the playoffs only ONCE in consecutive years, I exhibit unacceptable behavior. Involuntarily, I shake my head and randomly shout out “dammit”, “you gotta be kidding”, or drop an F- bomb. In other words, the Mets and all their ineptitude have entered such a deep part of my subconscious that it has turned me into “that guy”- the one who people become weary of and who mother’s shield their children from.
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