Wasn’t it Nadia Comeneche who scored the first Women’s Gymnastics perfect ten in the Olympic Games? I think it was and since I’m in a plane, I’m not looking it up. It doesn’t matter. Bo Derek starred in a movie “10,” which was about a woman who was a “10,” meaning she couldn’t be any more beautiful unless she was an 11. In bowling, if you knock down ten pins with your first ball of a frame, it’s called a strike, and strikes are good unless MLB players do it or if some other service provider you need does. Then strikes suck. A ten on a customer satisfaction survey is a great score and considers the surveyed a “net promoter,” or someone who’s going to tell everyone they know how wonderful you are.
The month of October is the tenth month of the year and my favorite. It’s a perfect, um, 10 as far as months go in New England. The air is usually crisp and clean. The sun is bright, though lower in the sky and for a dwindling duration each day. Maple trees blaze the colors of fire and local apple trees embody the term “low hanging fruit.” October provides “great sleeping weather,” and disincentive to emerge from warm covers. It’s a great month to have been born, but given my fortunate life, any month and day would have been cool, well, except Christmas. That would have sucked. My Dad celebrates his latest anniversary of October 13, 1933 this week (I’ll be there!), and almost 3 years ago, a beautiful little blond joined my family the day before my birthday. A few days later, the Sox won the World Series. Again.
Yeah, our beloved Red Sox usually play baseball well into the tenth month, but not this year. The best most New England fans can hope for is the Yankees being eliminated from the playoffs, but there’s probably only about a one in ten chance of that happening. Still, I don’t mind. In fact I kinda like watching C.C. Sabathia pitch in his gray jammies and Derek Jeter overact. Anyone see “The Tenth Inning” by documentarian Ken Burns yet? It’s on my DVR with about 9 recorded “Daily Shows.”
10/10/10 won’t be coming around again in my lifetime so I’m making sure I enjoy it and mark it. This morning as Joyce surfed to show me a place she once stayed in Tuscany, nearby I exchanged hugs and kisses with Maddy, Kyle and Megan, who were headed to enjoy ten-ten-ten at the Topsfield Fair. The warmth and love in my home blankets us and provides a sense of security Maslow would smile about. After an errand involving a ’93 Volvo Wagon, I had one more set of embraces to exchange before heading home for a workout and late season lawn care before packing for this trip. On the short trip back home, I thought about the last year and the joy that has dominated it. The feeling it rushed through me went to 11.