A month like this generates easy existential fodder -- how do any of us produce a single link of content when so many fascinating stories exist to be read, viewed, and interacted with.

I joined a program that rewards me for shuttling bicycles around the capital, so I spent some time with a fellow bike angel. Mobility is the privilege of a healthy body, but what happens when art moves? Similar emotional repercussions also filter into travel beyond the limits of our atmosphere and a call home that costs far more than some spare change jangling in a pants pocket. In more visual realms, I revisited data about food patterns and American land use because they offered such rich experiences, but the jello effects of finance kept me most engrossed.

Yet I constantly circled -- or squared, really -- to baseball. I'm watching the Cubs and checking the Nats score as I write this.

A collection of baseball-related tidbits includes Snoop Dogg, shower thoughts, and two games that tie three generations. I rose with Little League delight and descended into the gloom of a Major League downpour. And with some regret, I read about the player who fulfills the game's quirkiest trivia answer. I could have connected with him in person had I known his story a few years ago.

The 90-foot square of a baseball infield lies in dirt-lined contrast with the crooked geometry of the outfield walls, which differ in every professional stadium. That relationship left me reflecting on borders.

Specifically, I spent a fair chunk of audio time on a dive into gerrymandering. This insidious activity applies  a conqueror's mentality to democratic representation. Winner takes the spoils. Except that behavior violates the U.S. Constitution. 

Real lemons rescued me -- and a few million others -- from sour political fruits. And I have a poem appropriate for both the bright citrus and the season. Drink up.
 

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