Never let it be said that Iím not a sentimental guy.
I get emotional with the best of them and this week I touched on three of my list of Five Things That Make Me Cry.
I got a little bit weepy.
And when I say weepy, I donít mean sucking back a few sniffles and blinking away the stray tear. Iím talking about full-on, rib-heaving sobs with drool line trailing from the lower lip.
There are five things on this earth that will make me do that. They are: 1. Ceremonial baseball moments; 2. Bagpipes; 3. Superman; 4. Weddings, and 5. Happy endings.
These things are my kryptonite. I am powerless against them.
When LeBron James announced he was leaving Miami and returning to the Cleveland Cavaliers I got a little weepy. Four years of hatred and resentment were washed away with one stroke of the pen.
I am a LeBron James fan again. All is forgiven. Heís coming home.
Now I hate the Houston Rockets and Dwight Howard because nobody wears a Superman cape and then plays basketball like Howard does. Thatís a disgrace to the bath towel.
Plus, he abandoned Kobe.
Bagpipes get me the same way. And the pipers donít even have to start playing for the brain rains to come. All I have to hear is the snick of the snare drum and Iím a goner.
I saw a You Tube video of the Bad Piper, some dude in a skirt wearing a bad mohawk playing AC/DCís Thunderstruck on the bagpipes.
I started crying.
Itís Thunderstruck. Nobody cries at Thunderstruck. But I do.
I really donít have to explain this next one. Just let me say one word: Superman.
I believe a man can fly.
I remember the first time I ever saw a Superman comic. It was 1966. I was eight. I was on vacation and noticed the comic book rack positioned near the front counter. I saw the red cape and blue tights, dashed to the linen closet looking for the nearest bath towel, and started wearing my Fruit of the Looms outside my pants.
My parents talked to me for a long time about that one.
ďSon, do you know you are wearing your underwear outside your pants?Ē
ďYes father, thatís how Superman wears his.Ē
Thatís when I noticed my dad had developed this nervous kind of eye twitch.
I also tear up at happy endings, when the guy finally gets the girl. Thatís the reason why I sit in the front row during movings.
I just have to be careful not to sniff.
Romantic comedies are my favorite as they arenít so serious but thereís always that spice of romance at the end.
I love it when the guy gets the girl.
And last, weddings. Specifically, any family memberís wedding.
I drove half way up the east coast last week to attend my nieceís wedding over July 4 weekend in Williamsburg, Virginia, the capital of Fourth of July celebrations apparently as everybody and their brother descended upon Colonial Williamsburg and everybody got there ahead of me.
The chapel was an old English style chapel where the congregation faces each other rather than face front.
My Adamís apple was bobbing like Sugar Ray Leonard and I bit a hole in my lower lip. All this because they hired a harpist to play the wedding music.
Forget about when the bride walks down the aisle. I walk into the church, sit down and grab a hanky.
And everybody knows itís coming too. Especially when I do the ďheheheheĒ shoulder heave.