...............Issue
4 ~ May, 2002...............
...............Issue
4 ~ May, 2002...............|
Reflections
on the First Month of the 2002 Season Bill
Livingston, writing in today's edition of the Plain Dealer, chides Major
Legue Baseball for dropping the singing of "God Bless America"
during the seventh inning stretch. Well, Bill Livingston is never happy,
so what else is new. I, on the other hand, could not be any more pleased
with the decision--to my mind the national anthem is already more than
enough. There are lots of things that were wrong with playing "God
Bless America" at every game, not the least of which was the fact
that nobody knew how to sing it right. While I'll admit it had some
power initially, coming across as a fairly spontaneous response to the
horrific events of 9/11, it is also my observation that by opening day
it had degenerated into a exercise in jingoism rather than a show of
solidarity with the victims and their loved ones. Hope “Big Ass Springs” Eternal By Rick Brown On
the day I was born…during childbirth…the doctors discovered
that my mother’s tailbone was broken. I don’t know the extent
of the injury but I’m assuming it was cracked because, if I remember
the story correctly, she had ridden the roller coaster a few months
earlier at Puritas Springs…a long forgotten amusement park close
to where I spent my childhood. While I’m to this day uncertain
of the validity of this tale (just like the rumors that as many as three
people had perished riding this particular coaster) I suppose it WOULD
explain a lot of things if it is…in fact…true. On top of this
I was a breech baby…feet first. Apparently I had a hunch as to
how cold and cruel this cold and cruel world actually is. |
String
Cheese Incident Tuesdays
in Columbus are usually a lot like Mondays. The weekend is still an
eternity away and most people are settling into their normal workweek
routine. Like all Columbus-ites I am no different, by Tuesday my weekend
hangover is gone and my mind has returned to its normal worker droid
position. But every once in a great while, a Tuesday will come along
and give my week a giant kick in the ass. Tuesday April 16th was one
of those days. When to Buy a New Lawnmower By Rick Brown When
I was a boy my father…to earn some extra cash…had a little
lawnmower repair shop out back in the garage. So I know a bit about
the machines…and thought he did too. Actually he did. But after
I gave up on the push mower…the purist's type with no engine at
all…he gave me his. My wife and I had just purchased our house
and since the yard was far from flat, pushing a 49 year old reel mower
got to be quite a chore. Now I had my very first rotary mower. And although
it seems dumb to me now…I was pretty excited. Wacky Weed Whacker Wackiness By Rick Brown Previously Published in Crapshoot! So I go home yesterday from what turned out to be a difficult day (another story) determined to get the yard trimmed before yet another rain comes. I paid the girl next door to mow the last Friday so the lawn was okay…but it looked funny with 5 ½ inches of grass sticking up around the wall, fence and patio. Out of all the homeowner tasks I dislike this tops the list. Still, I knew I had to get it done or matters would just get worse. Once
in the house I donned my "weed whacking" outfit…a stylish
ensemble of an old ripped up t shirt, shorts (in much the same condition),
the longest socks I could find without looking like a total dork (trimmers
are much better at throwing rocks than whacking weeds), and, of course
my Italian sunglasses ($5 at an open air market in Florence…which
means they're really worth about 37 cents) to protect the one good eye
I have. I gave my regards to Henri (my dog) and made my way to the garage. Epilogue… "Walk
softly and carry a big stick." "Walk
softly and carry a plugged in weed whacker." |
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