Rainey Blogs on Some Days

I called my Grandmother to wish her a happy Mother's Day. "He's not feeling too good. He's turning 90 on his birthday. July 18," she said. "Does he stay active?" I said. "Well, he hires the lawn out, but he does little stuff around here," she said. "At least he does not clean the gutters himself anymore," I said. I hope they are not buying twelve-month certificates of deposit or extended warranties. They do not need a deep freezer for frozen strawberries. They should only buy fresh. They should not wish for the Cardinals to try to build a team from their farm system. They need them to win now. He's turning 90 on his birthday. He was my age in late December back in '63, the year his son and my mother got together, just as the song says. Maybe they were still mourning Kennedy’s assassination and thought they should steal a moment in the back of a ’60 Ford Falcon. But the moment turned into a baby boy and a life together. Then th