FeetVille
When I got to the grocery store the other day everything was very orderly as we all stood outside and waited in line, spaced six feet apart by little lines of yellow tape on the walkway.
And when we finally got inside there was a surreal calm as folks moved deliberately through the store before arriving at the unhurried checkout line. It was an almost zen-like experience.
Anyway...
While I was standing in line I pulled out my dog-eared copy of Bill Bryson's 'Thunderbolt Kid', which is mostly about the trials, tribulations and good/great/crazy times of his growing up in post-war middle America.
And, just so you know, at that moment in shelter-in-place/spaced-out-in-the-supermarket-line time the following short passages put a big smile on my soon-to-be-buying-carrots-and-frozen-corn face:
"My Dad was a sportswriter for the Des Moines Register, which in those days was one of the country's best papers, and he often took me along on trips through the Midwest. Sometimes these were car trips to places like Sioux City or Burlington, but at least once a summer we boarded a big silver plane - a huge event in those days - and lumbered through the summery skies, up among the fleecy clouds, to St. Louis or Chicago or Detroit to take in a home stand...
{snip}
...Baseball, like everything else, was part of a simpler world in those days, and I was allowed to go with him into the clubhouse and dugout and onto the field before games....Once on a hot July afternoon I sat in a nearly airless clubhouse under the left-field grandstand at Wrigley Field beside Ernie Banks, the Cubs' great shortstop, as he autographed boxes of new white baseballs (which are, incidentally, one of the most pleasurably aromatic things on earth, and worth spending time around anyway). Unbidden, I took it upon myself to sit beside him and pass him each new ball. This slowed the process considerably, but he gave me a little smile each time and said thank you as if I had done him quite a favor. He was the nicest human being I have ever met. It was like being friends with God."
OK?
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Post title tagline got the guitar-geek earworm going?....This.
And as to the super obscure subheader?....This and, most especially....This!
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4 comments:
knock on wood ?
Anon-Above--
In addition to being an impeccable glove man, Mr. Banks knocked on a whole lot of wood.
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Too bad ball players were not all cool as Banks. A friend had an interaction with Bill Buckner over at Nat Bailey that was not as positive. In the long run it made my friend a big believer in Karma.
Beer--
Back in the days when I was an entrenched Bleacher Bum at NBailey (it was a long time ago, AAA rather than this short season low A ball stuff), it was the guys who were coming down the ladder from the major leagues and/or doing an injury rehab stint who were the worst.
Former White Sox player Ron Kittle comes to mind...He said even the bubble gum was lousy in the minors.
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