It's been three whole days without baseball, and we have another 24 hours ahead of us on Monday with nothing. Didn't realize how much I'd find myself at a loss. Went out to today's scheduled practice and shagged fly balls during BP. Brushing up on my Andre Dawson skills last showcased as a high-school right-fielder who batted .200. I was like Juan Pierre, never struck out, rather made too many outs with weak contact.
Feels good to be at home. With a long homestand ahead of us, I can launder my bus-blanket and sleep on a bed. Got to watch my Cubbies on WGN today. They won in walk-off fashion, which was thrilling. Even on TV, Wrigley Field looks like the most beautiful scene of life that could, to this day, be plucked out of the 40's or 50's if you didn't know better. My mom is off to visit my sister and her grand-daughter in Manchester, England. Stowed in her luggae is a Chicago Cubs onezie (sp?) I picked up in the spring. Once my niece gets that Cubbie gear on, the team's fortunes will decidedly turn north!
Went antiquing in Paradise, CA yesterday(told you I was missing being at the yard!). Appropriately, trying to find something nostalgic for my father for the big holiday. What a nice little hamlet up the ridge. Also browsed a couple used bookstores. There isn't anything better in the world than a used bookstore. I trudged a long ways when we were in Tucson to visit the fabulous chain of Bookman's that is throughout Arizona. Found a nice 99cent Carl Sandburg book that I must have half-a-dozen copies of yesterday in Paradise and had to buy it. With my work as an English student at Northern Arizona University, I am a researched expert on Illinois' most famous poet. Any Carl Sandburg inquiries, you send them my way, deal?
What else? Weather here in Chico is nice. Not as warm as it was in the middle of May, go figure. The nine game homestand is going to be a marathon. Lots of exciting promotions and lots of work everyday for nine in a row between the office and the booth.
Not too much else to pass along. Phil Jackson's best work was done with my Bulls, of course. In these economic times, who really cares about the PGA and the U.S. Open, where numero 54 gets a check for $40,000 week in and week out? College World Series? Too much PING! if you ask me. And yes...glad you asked...Carl Sandburg is an incredibly revered lyricist who brought to life both the rise of Chicago (as in, skyscarpers in the '20's) and the solid, sentimental heart of the prairie Midwest.................Here's his boyhood home in Galesburg, Illinois...kept as a state historic site.
The prairie's quiet...
stooping stalks of wheat and maize,
silent after the sunlight's wind-breath fades,
another stand passes without fallen rain,
and as a June night meters with crickets song,
the man with hands worked sits with a gaze,
upon the shine of eyes in his loves moonlight look again...
Clear skies above and a million wishin' stars...
Wishing a rain and his heart to not be far...
Central Illinois evening,
there, then, and now...
Me, not Sandburg.......
Feels good to be at home. With a long homestand ahead of us, I can launder my bus-blanket and sleep on a bed. Got to watch my Cubbies on WGN today. They won in walk-off fashion, which was thrilling. Even on TV, Wrigley Field looks like the most beautiful scene of life that could, to this day, be plucked out of the 40's or 50's if you didn't know better. My mom is off to visit my sister and her grand-daughter in Manchester, England. Stowed in her luggae is a Chicago Cubs onezie (sp?) I picked up in the spring. Once my niece gets that Cubbie gear on, the team's fortunes will decidedly turn north!
Went antiquing in Paradise, CA yesterday(told you I was missing being at the yard!). Appropriately, trying to find something nostalgic for my father for the big holiday. What a nice little hamlet up the ridge. Also browsed a couple used bookstores. There isn't anything better in the world than a used bookstore. I trudged a long ways when we were in Tucson to visit the fabulous chain of Bookman's that is throughout Arizona. Found a nice 99cent Carl Sandburg book that I must have half-a-dozen copies of yesterday in Paradise and had to buy it. With my work as an English student at Northern Arizona University, I am a researched expert on Illinois' most famous poet. Any Carl Sandburg inquiries, you send them my way, deal?
What else? Weather here in Chico is nice. Not as warm as it was in the middle of May, go figure. The nine game homestand is going to be a marathon. Lots of exciting promotions and lots of work everyday for nine in a row between the office and the booth.
Not too much else to pass along. Phil Jackson's best work was done with my Bulls, of course. In these economic times, who really cares about the PGA and the U.S. Open, where numero 54 gets a check for $40,000 week in and week out? College World Series? Too much PING! if you ask me. And yes...glad you asked...Carl Sandburg is an incredibly revered lyricist who brought to life both the rise of Chicago (as in, skyscarpers in the '20's) and the solid, sentimental heart of the prairie Midwest.................Here's his boyhood home in Galesburg, Illinois...kept as a state historic site.
The prairie's quiet...
stooping stalks of wheat and maize,
silent after the sunlight's wind-breath fades,
another stand passes without fallen rain,
and as a June night meters with crickets song,
the man with hands worked sits with a gaze,
upon the shine of eyes in his loves moonlight look again...
Clear skies above and a million wishin' stars...
Wishing a rain and his heart to not be far...
Central Illinois evening,
there, then, and now...
Me, not Sandburg.......
CHILD
ReplyDeleteTHE young child, Christ, is straight and wise
And asks questions of the old men, questions
Found under running water for all children
And found under shadows thrown on still waters
By tall trees looking downward, old and gnarled.
Found to the eyes of children alone, untold,
Singing a low song in the loneliness.
And the young child, Christ, goes on asking
And the old men answer nothing and only know love
For the young child. Christ, straight and wise.
Sandburg....not me...
Alright! Let the Sandburg appreciations flow!
ReplyDeleteOk Joe,
ReplyDeleteThis is a test.
Two quotes, one Sandburg and one Steinbeck. Which is which?
1. "A book is never a masterpiece: it becomes one. Genius is the talent of a dead man.”
2. "No man really knows about other human beings. The best he can do is to suppose that they are like himself.”
No cheating!....just kidding...you can cheat...I did!
Hmm...I'm not going to cheat. I think it's somewhat a trick question though, with the first quote alluding to a book, meaning it would be Steinbeck. Hmm...Quote #2 sounds like Sandburg, so I'll go with that reasoning. Steinbeck #1 and Sandburg #2.
ReplyDeleteGotcha...but of course..as I said, I cheated!
ReplyDeleteBy the way, the Steinbeck quote is from "The Winter Of Our Discontent"
ReplyDeleteBarry