"Take me out to the Ball Game" (or, not ...)
Summer Solstice is a big deal here in Fairbanks, Alaska. On June 21, every year, we have a "Midnight Sun Festival" and the Goldpanners Midnight Sun Baseball game. We celebrate the fact that this game begins at 10:30pm, and goes right on through midnight, without any artificial lighting. It's usually broad daylight right up until midnight or so, and then the sun slips under the horizon and peeks back up within a two-hour period. Even if the sky is overcast, there is enough light to read a book or play a ball game all night long. It's great for weekend campouts, but not so great for ordinary weekday worknights, because the light can make you sleep-deprived.
DH bought a couple of tickets to the game, from the coordinator of our "forty's group" at church. He didn't think the kids would be interested in going along, as they vetoed the game last year. When our son, Ben, said he wanted to go, I volunteered my ticket, and said that would be a nice "father-son" outing. DH apparently didn't HEAR that information, because on the day of the game, he came home with another ticket, and informed me that I was going by saying, "I'll see you at the game after church."
When I protested, DH made a hurtful, manipulative comment about not liking people, and quoted from a book by Mike Mason, "Practicing the Presence of People." Needless to say, I went to the ball game. After an hour and a half of sitting on a cold bench, enduring cold winds and mosquitoes, and having virtually no conversation with people, (DH sat in the row ahead of me, to save seats for others in the group), I left. And I cried the whole way home. DH had brought along a staff member, and they both sat next to a single, lonely man, from our church. He was engaged in conversation the whole time; ignoring his son, and ignoring his wife. It felt just like church to me, sitting alone on a crowded pew/bench.
Oh, the games we play!