To a baseball fan, January is the longest month of the year. It is close enough to spring training to whet your appetite but still far enough away that it seems it will never come. So when the month ends, baseball fans all around the world sigh a great relief that they have survived another off-season. All attention now focuses on the middle of February. For it is that time that life springs eternal. As major league players all journey to the sunny climates of Arizona and Florida. As I got up this morning, I looked out of my bedroom window and saw a new day dawning. I began an uncontrollable urge to begin dancing. There I was in my Goofy slippers and my pajamas dancing away my arms swinging back and forth. Suddenly I came to the realization that unlike other days, Trina had not gotten up before me, there she was laying under the covers, a confused look on her face. Rarely does a wife ever get woken from a dead sleep to the sight of a thirty-eight year old man dancing in Diamondback pajamas wearing slippers shaped like Goofy’s head. As she rolled over trying to erase this image from her mind, I heard her say, “So this is what they meant when they said for better or for worse. It doesn’t get much worse than that.”