On days like today, I am reminded of the Hanna Barbera cartoon Yogi Bear. All summer, Yogi and his little buddy Boo-Boo hang around Jellystone Park snatching picnic baskets and giving grief to Mr. Ranger. Life is care-free in Jellystone. Yogi always seems to have the upper hand and gets himself out of trouble and more importantly out of work. When the summer ends and the tourists have all left for the season, Yogi and Boo-Boo head to their cave to spend a nice quiet winter sleeping and dreaming of next year’s picnic baskets. As a child, I never quite made the connection of this cartoon with baseball, but as I sit here watching it on the Cartoon Network with Dakota, I am struck by the subtle references to baseball and life in general. The picnic baskets are a representation of a baseball game while Ranger Smith is analagous to my wife Trina. Yogi is only happy when he is outwitting Mr. Ranger to sneak away for one more picnic basket. Boo-Boo is always Yogi’s conscience trying to keep him out of trouble. In my life, it is my kids who try to keep me from getting into Trina’s dog house. Unfortunately, I am much like Yogi, just to enamored with the picnic baskets to see the trouble he is getting into. And like Yogi, as soon as the tourists are gone and the picnic basket supply has ended, I too am ready for a winter of hibernation. The one small difference between me and Yogi is that I am not allowed to run around wearing just a neck tie and a hat.