I really kind of hope Keith doesn't show up tonight.

[Berry Cool]

But I guess he'll do what he feels he has to do.

I thought about it a lot today, and what I realized is this: what happened last night wouldn't have been so shocking if we'd just known.

What was shocking was, we didn't know. There was nothing in the news. There was no grapevine that passed the word from this person to that so we were aware.

Had there been, we would have known, and we would have had time to process it. And we would have expected him not to show up last night at all. Even when Shuster showed up on Hardball, we would have figured "Well, that means we'll get Alison tonight."

And then when the show began and we heard his voice saying "Which of these stories will you be talking about tomorrow?" we would have said "Oh my God, he's here. He's doing this."

And we would have been stunned, and amazed...and marveling at how well he was holding himself together...and then a mess at the end, anyway.

Instead, it was like, we thought: No, it can't be what it sounds like. It's got to be something else. There's been no news of it, and you don't keep news like that quiet. And besides, he's acting so normal. It can't be.

And then he ambushed us with the news in a way that dug right into the jugular for all of us who have been through anything like what he's been through. Especially those for whom the memories were running particularly painfully and strongly this time of year. But even if that was not the case, the scab over that particular kind of pain is never very hard to tear off. And when it tears off, all the stuff you felt yourself at the time, all the stuff you could and could not do, comes rushing to the surface.

It was as if one of your good friends hadn't told you. Until he or she called you up and said, "Oh, by the way, can you come to my mother's memorial service? It's in a few minutes. I hope you can make it. I think I wrote a good eulogy. At least I hope so."

Well, dammit, Good Friend, of course I will come, but why didn't you take a little time to let me know she died?

It's the damn false intimacy of TV, that makes us feel as if these people on the screen are our friends and that they would never have something like this happen to them without telling us. But I guess sometimes they do. Because, for whatever reason, they want to do it on their own terms.

For whatever reason, maybe because it's second nature to him--it's the kind of thing he's done for so many other people--Keith felt the need to do what he did last night, the way he did it, rather than retreat for a few days, have others give the explanation for his absence, and then come back and do it. It's just that it's not what I expected. And I hope he takes some time out, now or soon, and doesn't keep pushing himself to work around it. Work can be a salvation, an escape, but only to a point.

And yeah, I hope he goes to some ball games. He NEEDS to go to some ball games. He better be at Yankee Stadium for that first official home game with the Indians. It's where he belongs. It's during the day, I think, but if he has other ways to occupy his evening, good for him.

And I guess that talks me out.