It's Only a Number

I have always had a fascination with numbers. I recall family addresses and most telephone numbers from my teen years. My high school basketball and baseball uniform numbers were 20 & 21 respectively. College uniform numbers were 6 & 41. I am uncertain of the number of true friends I've had but I am positive it is not as many as the 13- pet dogs.

I can rattle off my adult childrens' telephone numbers and most of the grandkids. I don't remember the number of times my Dad said, "Oh Boy" as he lay dying of heart failure in Barnes Hospital; God only knows the number of times I continue to hear it in my head.

The 1954, Grace Methodist Sunday School boys had a favorite song called, "He Lives," which you found on page 52 of the hymnal. I remember as I approached that coveted 500th coaching victory, I was excited. Once the plateau was reached and ended at 541, I realized the 'true' joy was not the numbers but the journey. For many years, my wife has collected antique teapots...that number of teapots is ridiculous with an even more ridiculous financial number commitment.

I have four (4) prepared speeches that I give at conferences, clinics and school institutes. I've given those speeches hundreds of times but with less frequency in recent years. Perhaps the number of invitations to speak has lessened due to financial issues facing school districts, then again maybe the number 77 (my age) is now a deal breaker.

My Toy Poodle, Yodie has 27 toys but only plays with two; a rubber duck and teddy bear.

I cannot imagine why, but if you are ever in East St. Louis the pink corner house at 5401 Rosemont Avenue Washington Park was my childhood home. I don't believe those living there have the telephone number Bridge 1-6129 and since my wife's childhood home at 1632 North 43rd Street was razed that Upton 4-3282 likely won't ring. Since Facebook posting 1268 Roustio Rants there has been 68,689 readers...and all those numbers means 'zero'...'nothing,' except to me.