I don’t have a gym membership, never had one, never will, but there’s no Rocky Balboa beating meat in the basement for me, no running up and down city hall steps. I’m a lazy ass in my post basketball life; have been for 25 years or so.
Not playing basketball is amputation. The thrill is gone and it’s been gone a long while. And how many times people told me “you got some serious game white boy.” They said it the last time I loitered the court 2 years ago. Only thing in this life I’m proud of; a basketball jones and oh yeh, I can steam brocoli. Just drop the heads on a bed of rice while it’s cooking.
But plenty of reasons to be happy and reason number one is grocery stores. Our cave man ancestors would be pinching their hairy hunter arms if they knew how much sexual innuendo goes on there; brothers and sisters fondling oranges eggplants while slyly sneaking a peek; ladies with legs and vocadoes.
Sometimes I voyeur along, but not really. I’m too mental preferring the miracle of our ancestral hunt being reduced to aisle 7 and a can of tuna. There’s a garbage pail situated beside the huge stack of corns on the cobs; to peel back the husks and remove all those annoying yellow strands that get stuck everywhere. Free your cob of husks and your ass will follow?
This is North America or Meso America or whatever…home to corn; older than the Athabascans. I’ve eaten corn on more than one Indian Reservation and survived every time and it ain’t no fluke. We all ate the cobs like manual typewriters performing stream of consciousness….back and forth left and right without saying a word…just shut up and eat earth ….train track mmmmmmmmm.
But these days I’m pissed off, ornery, depressed, then hyper, suicidal , anxious. I’m one day shy of two weeks kicking the death habit…the cigarette thing…the fags as they call em in Guns of Brixton. “When they kick at your front door, how you gonna come? Hands on your head or trigger on your gun?” I’m a fucking fool, enjoying the sweet pock marked flying disease for so long……pigeon grey swirls to burn away with me slowly and solve existence crisis; a stupid solution and a killer to a penny pincher like me, but never again in Skokie or my freaking lungs. Never.
Addiction death democracy knows no discrimination. Accepts everyone like quicksand forest and kicking the habit makes ya crazy. I love grocery stores. …the corn husks…ripping the hairy flesh off in public and whipping em in excess of 100 mph into the garbage bin…therafreakinpeutic!
Come home with a couple a malt beers; some quebec label, belle guelle; on sale; 2 for 4 bucks and swooosh that first sip is a crack high, an evil knievel high; racing up or down Highway 1 or 101, speed limits 75? Screw the scenic route. I want speed. Three hours to san francisco; Brewers visiting Giants…three god damn hours to wait.
Sip some more beer on an empty stomach and watch one of my all time favorite movies; Cold Turkey starring Dick Van Dyke, Bob Newhart, Edith from All in the Family, Bentley from the Jeffersons and the manager in that baseball movie Bang the Drum Slowly. Love that guy. Love that movie. 25 million dollars to the town in america that can quit smoking. And of course it’s a depressed Iowa town..
That movie never lets up; non stop satire, pokes fun at every cotton picking thing about America; maybe that’s why no one knows about it. Who cares. Screw Penguin and his classics. That movie puts my laughter in a sling. I can barely stand up……even the soundtrack is ironic or sarcastic…Randy Newman the atheist singing about God..”he gives us all his love.” God damn, I love that movie, makes me cry, pisses me off, laughing.
I went to bed knowing Cubs beat those conservative cop loving shmuckaroonies..the Caridinals…I could quit the Brewers and become a Cubs junkie, could quit baseball and be a basketball junkie. I already am. I could quit anything.
But wake up to the lambasting….13-2..Giants wasted the Brewers. If Peralta and Estrada had combined for a 3 hit shutout rather than 5 innings and 11 earned runs. I would love the ballet of a well pitched game and the cute Herzog execution of 2 runs, but when I’m on a bus, the idiots on bikes are in the way and when I walk, I hate cars.
The Brewers are 73-61.