7/1/03
Softball: The Philadelphia Story
Dear People,
Congratz to all on last week’s saucy 16-11 display of jocund integrity, exemplified by the sheer force of will that led Michael Tucker’s team back from the humiliation of a 15-4 rout to a more nuanced semi-respectable thrashing. In any case, I don’t have time for any of that, so let me cut to the chase; I will soon be in a strange and distant land (Santa Monica), and will not be returning until Sunday afternoon. Given this, and given that it’s the 4th of July weekend, I was going to write you all in order to say that there would not be a game this week. The fact is that I wasn’t even feeling guilty about this, because I am well aware that for this particular holiday, most of you like to linger alone in the local woods while contemplating the true meaning of life, liberty and the pursuit of raw aerobic happiness.
I understand this, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but notice what I happened to write you seven years ago this very week. And while I’m obviously not going to sit here and quote myself like some kind of self-indulgent logorrheacal freak, I do think it’s worth putting the possible loss of cardiovascular release into some kind of proper historical perspective. Indeed, I think that the following observations still have a certain resonance, particularly given the current bozoship now in charge of the country…
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As the 4th approaches, I am reminded of the intense pressures that Jefferson, Adams and Franklin must have felt when they decided to pen that most momentous of definitive divorces, their very lives at stake as cunning little fish-and-chips eating British troops scampered throughout the Pennsylvania bush. These intrepid and indefatigable revolutionaries would have no doubt given anything to play an exciting game of softball, but stuck as they were in the 18th century, they had to settle for yeoman farming and really boring arguments about the nature of mercantilism. I think you see my point. Make that commit. Do it for the children. Do it now. Indeed, the line from Alexander Hamilton to Jackie Robinson to all of you is the very essence of the American experience....
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So yeah, you’re welcome to linger alone in your oneness, but I happen to think that life is with people, and even though I won’t be back until the afternoon of July 6th, the hard historical reality is that the Declaration of Independence wasn’t even signed until August 2nd! That’s right, August 2nd (1776), not July 4th (1923), which I guess just goes to show that Paul Simon wasn’t spewing mere vacuities when he sang to all the world that "When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school, it’s a wonder that I can think at all." I still get chills when I hear that line, and yet I also understand that within the context of a such a transcendent date, I’m giving it to ya harsh. Yes, I realize this, but I also know that the sooner you get over it, the better off you’ll be.
And therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 4PM (which is like 11AM, but five hours later), followed by a scrumptious Free-from-the-Brits pot-luck barbecue at about 6PM, IF I get enough commits by TOMORROW AFTERNOON (which is like Friday morning, except that it isn’t)….Raymond
PS: Everyone who plans to come to the Barbie should bring their own meat and booze, AND inform me of their proposed communal contribution in order to assure culinary balance. As always, I suggest such staples as buckets of ice, paper plates, plastic utensils, sodas, salads, brownies, veggies, and for the determined few, some pan-seared bovine sweetbreads served with a fresh ginger glaze.
7/2/03
Softball: The Magical Allure of the 6th of July
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 4:00, followed by a simply divine pot-luck barbecue. The game is now full, but everyone on earth is welcome to attend the barbie. Please remember to bring $2 for the field, and if staying afterward, your whatever for the grill and your communal contribution for the teeming masses…..Raymond 845-7552
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