WALKING MY WAYS

WALKING MY WAYS. Recently, I was blown away. Figuratively. Which is a snap. For me. Big things. Little things. Positives. Negatives. All of it and any of it. In any event, I got a call from my first cousin, twice removed, that in June, he and his 13 year old son would fly West, pick up another cousin in Seattle, and then visit Carmel. At which point, the FOUR OF US would drive up to Levis stadium, in Santa Clara, to see the World Cup. In this case, between Qatar and Switzerland. Where tickets are almost impossible to secure. Unless your number is drawn. Whose odds are supposedly between 1 and 4 percent. Which, somehow, my cousins accomplished. Which stoked me to no end.

The reason for all this happening is that exactly 32 years ago, I took this same cousin to another World Cup, in Pasadena. When he was 13. Because my brother had given me 2 tickets. And at that time, my cousin promised he would invite me to another World Cup. Sometime. Somewhere. Which I had totally forgotten about. But that is exactly what he was now doing. 32 years later, at age 45.

One hears that blood is thicker than water. But when it concerns soccer. And the World Cup. And the Hype, Joy and Excitement, it really gets heavy. Big time. Not that I know anything about soccer. I don’t. But I understand that tickets can only be obtained by pure chance. If one’s number is drawn. And if I am part of that win. Then WOW.

And to think that I am seven times older than his son, puts a very special shine on the entire venture. So I can’t wait. Years ago, we used to have family reunions. But no longer. And so, to have a mini get together, incorporating four cousins, at the World Cup, will be awesome. In every respect. For each of us. In June, of this year. WHEEE! Finis.