Des Moines, IO
(Tony is kind of like the bird-boned guy in Lord of the Rings. Maine was running to picture day and Tony grabbed hold of his belt as Maine galloped by and swung himself to his shoulders, Taming the Maine until gametime.
A few days ago I lined out on the first pitch of the game. As I made my right turn back into the dugout, (home team takes 3rd baseline in Reno) the 10 beat electronica for loss of life and ejection off the balance beam in the original Mario brothers was played. Can’t say I remember if they played the single purr sound of the bad guy making contact with me. It’s up there with the rest of what’s unforgettable about groundhog’s days in baseball, or the evenings in apartments between couplets—
The napoleonic Frenchman calls Police
To report a listening to Piaf (at a reasonable level mind you) at 10:20 PM.
I think he’s younger than me (!) Which is almost perversely gratifying. I’m no pervert. Inflection is a problem in this medium. Janet Jackson all day today! Punctuation! Syntax! Remember her “pervert” shirt? Not the malfunction thing, the tight little tee that said pervert she wore at some awards? That was moving. I didn’t know about the Congo, so it seemed important like this tee shirt kills fascists, better, this tee-shirt is killing fascists, and I liked nikes and gold, I was pre-pubescent, impressionable, and MTV still meant a little something, “there were music videos and Beavis and Butthead and Bart and Lisa and I were all the same age”, he said—“and it was certain we were actively arriving nowhere.” she said. Thin walls in your mid sized city urban lofts: clearly not part of the sell. So thin, I hear you can even hear foreplay.