Counter Culture
At the Country Fair
by Sandy Rea
by Dean Bonde
One of the first maxims I recall hearing was,
“Speak softly, but carry a big stick.” As a Baby-
booming, Hopalong Cassidy-believing child, it was
unthinkable to speak (“children should be seen and
not heard”), or consider carry ing a weapon,
regardless of its inherent practical value to
conversation at the item. I was a Good Little Girl.
At forty-nine (and holding), I have adopted the
above maxim, with certain alterations. 1.1 speak at
whatever volume 1 choose, and, 2. 1 prefer a
chainsaw. Ask City Hall.
It took years to come into ow ning the person I am,
and in 20/20 hindsight, it seems that the educational
system might have had something to do with that
delay. Perhaps it might serve creativity and curiosity
better if children were shot, much as cannonballs,
directly from elementary school into college, thereby
avoiding the mind-numbing sludge ol the junior and
high school experience. 1 recall wondering why we
were required to spend those years,
Memorize/Test/Forget, like cellular Xerox machines
with zits, in hallways that will always smell the way
they did in 1958. It still puzzles me. It’s as though
it were a giant practical joke. “I know (Ha-Ha!!) —
lets throw several hundred kids together at their most
anti-social stage, and make them sit still for 7 1/2
hours listening to men who part their hair just above
the ear (and comb those 10 inch strands over) talk
about isosceles triangles. And just to make it more
annoying, let’s yammer on about how IMPORTANT
this stuff is going to be to them for the rest of their
lives!” And they wonder why so many of us
dropped out in the sixties. Drugs weren’t the only
reason for some.
Once free of the educational system, I began to
learn, the way so many ot us do, from life itself,
other people, music, literature, hard knocks. It was
by far the better experience. Of the lessons offered,
an odd mix of altruism and independence seemed the
most attractive, and the one I have managed to hang
on to, through various stages, the past few decades.
Some of the most satisfy ing pseudo-post graduate
work done was via the privilege of volunteering with
our own VOCA (Victory' Over Child Abuse) Camp,
here in Clatsop County. One of the VOCA songs
goes like this;
How could anyone ever tell you
You were anything less than beautiful?
How could anyone ever tell you
You w ere less than whole ?
How could anyone fail to notice
That your loving is a miracle?
How deeply you’re connected to my soul!
The first time I heard it I cried, hard, thinking ol
all the kids who would never hear those words
spoken to them, regardless of their truth. Since then,
when it’s sung it brings to mind the power ol healing
that comes with believing those lyrics, and how rich
our society could become it it were to embrace the
kindness it encourages. Maybe it will someday . Our
kids sure need it more than they do another semester
of verb conjugation.
Until then, I’ 11 practice the different aspects of
continuing education as a near-geezer; reading,
listening, watching, caring and keeping the chain
saw well oiled.
Days are hot, nights are great
Water’s sprayin’ , children playin’
Folks talking, communities walking
Bright stars, no cars
What sound, music all around
Ingenious art, lots of heart
Baby grand in the showers
Baby Gramps in the (lowers
Bird sing, do your thing
Heavenly food, all is good
Drums rage, burning sage
Working teams, lifting beams
Efficiency everywhere, people really care,
Dancing feet, feel the beat
Humans share
At the Country Fair
Back to Bill’s, more cheap thnlls
N orthw est Best Places
>
Mr. Baseball-From the Mail Bag
Dear Mr. Baseball:
I’m a basketball fan, I like football, but baseball
leaves me cold. It’s so boring. 1 go to a game
(seldomly), and am virtually asleep by the sixth
inning, ft sucks! How can you defend, let alone
name vourself, after this waste of time. 1 just don’t
understand your fascination for this mind-numbing
game.
Yours, B.D., Topeka, KS
Dear Mr. (Rude noun deleted) For Brains:
1 long ago resigned from the job of defending
baseball. The elegance of the game does not need
someone as insignificant as me to uphold its many
virtues.
However, my editor, who is a great tan ol the
game, e ante to me on bended knee, a leartul eve,
and a roll ot cash that would choke a pelican.
Although you arc an NBA tan, you actually did write
a letter so 1 assume you to be at least an advanced
Neanderthal.
And so, for the last time, I descend lrom the
heights ot Coogan s Blult, with the Six
Commandments, inscribed on horsehide, lrom
Alexander Cartwright.
One) M.L.B. Inc. is NOT baseball. It is the
professional arm ot a game, I lepcat, a game.
Baseball is hitting a few to your kid when you get
home from work. It’s playing catch with a triend on
a fine summer day. It’s a bunch ol cronies playing
ball (hard or soft) around a keg and a bar-b-que.
M.L.B. Inc. has no more copy right on baseball than
M cDonald's has on that burger on that bar-b-que.
And, by the way, if Bud “ Huh” Selig and his band
of thugs had been doing their job, children in Taiwan
would be making $2.15 a day making Frank Thomas
“ Biu Hurt” baseball shoes instead ol “Air Jordan s.
T w o ) Go to a game, and PAY ATTENTION. Get a
red hot, popcorn, and a beer. This is the thing,
baseball is action without motion 50% of the time.
Which leads us to...
Three) Know strategy. This is not a game which is
a relic of warfare, where one team seeks to acquire
territory from another. It has no clock. The team
without the ball does the scoring. If these three
things are starting to make a cosmic connection,
congratulations, you’re paying attention.
Four) Know the rules. The basics are easy ; three
strikes, four balls, three outs, and so forth. But it
you really want to appreciate this game, you must put
in a little effort. Rules on interference, obstruction,
fair & foul rules for particular parks, assists, SF’s,
Sac’s, fielder’s choice and so on. Mr. Baseball is
EMINENTLY proud that Mrs. Baseball knows what
the infield fly rule is.
One thousand years from now', history will judge
the American nation as making three real
contributions to the world culture; democracy, jazz
music, and baseball.
Five) Invest a little time in exploring the history ot
this game. Flood vs. MLB Inc. Would make a
formidable doctorate thesis, if you have the ill
fortune to desire to be a lawyer.
The lives of the greats are truly inspiring, warts
and all: Ruth, Gehrig, Musial, Cobb, Speaker,
W illiams, and so forth.
And then there arc those who shattered under the
pressure: Wally Hershberger, Don Wilson, Donnie
Moore, Rod Scurry , and the rest. God rest their
souls. Their stones are equally interesting. In its
long and weird history, baseball has characters that
make Dennis Rodman look like your pool boy.
Six) When you do go to game (See Two), make it
easy on yourself. Relax. On a fly ball, look at the
fielders, not the ball. This is particularly important in
a mausoleum such as the King Dome.
Buy a program and keep score. It involves you
and puts you into the game more than anything, be it
a Reds’ game at Riverfront, or a Rockies’ game at
Civic (I still want to call it Multnomah) Stadium.
If you don’t know how to score a game, you can
send for a free pamphlet to:
Mr. Baseball, P.O.Box 442, Manzanita, OR T713O.
Please include $2.99 to cover shipping & handling.
Progress might have been all right once,
but it’s gone on too long. Ogden Nash
£
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