I revel in the fact that my job is playing with the dirt of baseball fields, getting them ready for games. I even get to operate a tractor on the infields. Talk about your ultimate Lancaster Countian's fantasy. In the sweltering afternoon heat, my work partner and I drive our city pickup truck around the town looking busy and making sure everything is under control while stopping at every mini-mart in town to get slushies to reward our hard work. No worries, no problems.
Life is good.
It is not like I'm anxious to go home because it is such an exciting town, with a plethora of activities to keep me entertained. It's just the opposite. It's the simple life I crave, the calm after the storm of eight months at Penn State. Whether it is the debate concerning Cuntfest or Sex Faire, or to Rep. John Lawless' antics in attacking the validity of the events at all, there is just always something. Every time I read another article about who the riots are hurting, or hear about how some ignorant bigot wrote a threatening, racist letter, I yearn just a little more to be driving that '79 Dodge pick-up around Ephrata.