It seems the date was not over. There were some startling things that startled me. Somebody said my name from my gate right while I was writing this blog out loud. I mean, do you ever type and talk while you do so? I have always recommended that my practical English students talk everything. Talk breakfast, lunch or dinner. Talk the moment that you’re in. Me, I’m blogging but do you want an example? No matter what you said I guess I will give you a paragraph just for the fucking entertainment of myself.

I am sitting a bit splooshed on my couch in my palatial suite in the summer office. My current cobbled together computer display is actually kind of nice. It does the job that I need it to do and it is pleasantly a bit slower than the other one and a bit less desolate. This means I have pictures on this computer and I don’t on the other. Imagine whatever you want that makes me smile when I look at the picture. It is also pretty good legal office and we are, good weather or bad weather, into the legal statutes of the Republic of Belarus. Why? I have to write a paper complaining of a serious crime being committed and I need to put it into the bureaucracy of the Republic of Belarus. Now to submit such a document to the Republic of Belarus as I understand it, you can write an extremely reasonable report in your own language or you can use the legal code and site specifically the points that you are saying have been committed according to the statutes of the laws of the Republic of Belarus. And it’s a lot like that sentence. You just have to agree to read and write legal. But this is not really explaining my outward reality. Most of my students will stop and stare around the room and perhaps stop at the mirror, like for example I have. This is not an invitation for sex and it was never intended as such but if you are kinky, yes there is a mirror near where we would be fucking. I’m sorry if I said that. I am on vacation and I’m actually in a pretty good mood. I believe I have found the apparatus that will remove the infection that lives next door to me and perhaps will heal the entire world. Why not. Small ambitions for small men and grab the thing by the knob when you know how to go deep.

So the thing that startled me was the call of my name. In my wild fantasies of reality, I did not know that it would be anyone else but my neighbor herself. And so, because of the horrible junkie that I’m supposed to be according to her. I mean, we have junkies here and I employ some of them to do ecological work and cleaning up the forest currently. I know who they are and I know their names and I don’t really bother myself so much with their stories because their drug addicts and all their stories are the same. They are drug addicts and therefore they have no stories. Me? I have stories. Motherfucker do I have stories. I mean seriously, how many years have I been telling stories about this fucking place? I’m a drug addict? That was in a movie one time where I think Ralph macchio was so completely sure of himself, that when asked if he committed a murder, he answered rhetorically, I committed a murder? But in the police report, they never ask him if that statement should have a question mark or a period. You see how such a thing could be confusing if they just find it within themselves to remove that question mark from life itself. What sort of evil genius removed the question mark from the world? Fuck. No. Fuck! Fuck? You see how all of that changes? Those are absolutely completely different concepts. I can ask the question, am I a drug addict? And I have to answer yes. Am I a drug addict by choice? The answer is yes but I am extremely mild in my habits. I do definitely make use of macaroni. I was almost into the macaroni when this whole rigmarole started from my command. It seems they understood that I was probably heading for the macaroni or whatever I was heading for and they decided to stop me or say hello and tell me they were on the fucking job.

In fact, let’s get back to everything I’m addicted to in a minute. Let’s do this little thing real quickly. So, there’s this voice coming from the fence and it’s a female voice and I am absolutely sure that it is my neighbor. But she is not coming to lay down her sword or her cutlery or her pack of cigarettes like everyone else is doing. I mean, we know how much she loves looking around and seeing how everyone does the same thing. So I figured, it was a conversation. Like maybe she just had through meditation allowed the words to creep into her psyche and maybe she got to thinking that perhaps she fucked up somewhere along the way and things are suddenly just a little bit different in the world. In Russian they say она чувствует сквозная в дом. I forget the word in English for this because my house doesn’t really have them. It’s kind of like, she can feel a chill in the air that just shouldn’t be there. It’s worrisome is what they’re talking about and it would be absolutely reasonable for her to have come to the conclusion that she just fucked up a little bit more then her usual sadism. It seems that my little demonstration put pressure on her and when push came to shove she reacted. She definitely reacted because she reacted by revving her engine purposely which meant that she had the right to gas and pollute my property to any amount and if I were to make her angry she would kill me with poison. If anyone else sees anything then that in this picture, go ahead and take your best cuts and see if you can make it into the conservative fuck you all to hell and back hall of fame. No matter how good your speech is, they will never be a child on the planet who will be asked to read it.

So, being the drug addict that I am, we would have to ask what were my two actions. Because this is a really cool question because it ends up with a really cool answer. Maybe I’m a bad scientist and I only see what I want to see. Or maybe I’m just a hedonist and I only see what I want to see and this makes me very happy in the world. And apparently it makes a crew of former smokers very happy too. And usually I say fuck you to my neighbor instead of an amen or something like that. Because she is currently the enemy of ecology and though we are praying to God with every step we take in that Forest, it’s not an amen it’s a fuck you to the people who live next door to me for creating this mess that I have to clean up.

I keep getting distracted, you notice? Okay let’s hold it together and go straight. I hear the voice and I allow myself to smile inwardly. Because the question is what would a drug addict do. I would think that if you asked 100 reasonable people, and you can let pretty much even 60% of them or 70% of them or 80 or just don’t even count how many of them are conservatives. And when you’re getting called out, what does a junkie do? And they will tell you that they scurry like rats. Tell me I’m not on that? And tell me, it would a junkie come to the door in absolute complete sobriety ready for the most reasonable conversation of a legal, medical, moral, ethical, rational conversation in any fucking language they wanted to talk to me including interpretive dance or gestalt therapy. They could put it in writing. They could bring a lawyer and a notary. All I wanted to do was bring my device which happens to have a camera that works and I had enough battery life to get through anything they wanted to throw at me.

By the way, just for clarification. Who is the drug addict here? Fuck, there’s another question mark. I am one illegal motherfucker. I ask questions. I’m just begging for the worst, aren’t I?

I took my time to make sure that my left hand stability was perfect. It seems that while I was doing my repetitions of my elvis/sinatra show for my plants, it seems that I actually needed to get my left hand device kung fu in order. I mean, I kick with my left foot and I shoot pool left-handed and I probably think left-handed and at the moment I am staring at what I am typing with only my left eye but I write with my right hand and that’s the truth Ruth. So when it came time for the device to play its part, my left hand was prepared as well for service and knew exactly how to hold that son of a bitch solid as a rock no matter how crazy the rest of my body might get. I mean, do you really think the bitch would talk after all these years? She’s a psychotic. She can’t talk. I’m not even talking about hopefulness I’m saying that she is a completely gone psycho chemically dependent sociopath who has no knowledge of the damage she is causing to the people around her but recently because of my provocation in demanding that she listened to me about her automobile habit, she got angry and purposely revved her engine at me. It’s not really the quantification of the smoke itself that is at Play. It is that she is telling me that she will use her Auto fumes as a weapon if I don’t leave her alone. And that, that use of a weapon, not the threat of a use of a weapon such as the policeman who she coerced through lies who came to my house and screamed and threatened me for an hour until his heart got too much and he needed to sit down and rest and just when I thought we would actually get to talk, he decided to drive away. Fuck, I forgot. He doesn’t get off the hook on this one either.

Well, I guess we’ll find out what stress is. I get to be serpico now as well in the month of July. We get to find out whether a good cop can be a good cop or whether the entire thing is going some direction that a person can’t see by looking at it with their own two eyes. Damn. We’re not only writing legal documents, I’m going to have to invite the police to come up here and have a conversation with me. That would be after the paper has been submitted or before. I don’t know. I really don’t know. I’m actually not a lawyer and I just have to figure this shit out because I’m not allowed to hang out in my garden right when it needs me. This is the war bitch. This is global warming fucking up everything that is growing. I fuck up one day in this whole house of cards comes down. I know it’s a house of cards. But the thing is, there’s nature telling me that at some point in history not too very long ago, this was a habitat where you could just put shit in the ground and it would grow. And now it doesn’t seem to be the case and I don’t want to get too sentimental but I have made genuine friends with the birch trees. I even bought a birch bat just because.

Why did you buy a baseball bat?

How many answers do you want? I’m not playing with irony. There are a lot of answers why I do what I do. It’s very complicated. But at its most practical level, I used to play baseball and right now I’m doing leg recuperation. I decided that a little swing therapy if it’s just what I needed to get my balance straight. And gosh darn it, I seem to be able to play golf on my own course and sometimes I go out and take cuts with my back. I’m an American. I’m a third baseman. Actually, I was a pretty good third baseman and I had an arm before I fucked it up. My dad had an arm before he fucked it up too. We have a weak elbow ligament or something like that and that’s the name of that tune for a baseball career. Unless you’re a first baseman but really you still have to throw sometimes. But sweet mother Jesus I could hit. Ask anybody who ever saw me. Ask anybody who ever saw me play if I could hit. And I mean this with all sincerity. There are people who you meet in your life and you may not need even know it at the time but they will stay in your memory forever from that moment on and what I’m telling you is if you were to go back and find anybody who was around me during those years and ask them if I could hit, they would experience something like I went through watching a Willie Mays documentary. The memory that they would have was watching something truly remarkable happen that was worth staring at. I’m way off the track and I know I’m supposed to be talking about what happened on the street and I know I promised not to ramble but I just can’t help myself. I’ve been dreaming of telling stories. Not stories, one story, let me just tell you one story. I know I’m a nuisance. I just told my ex partner to fuck off. I don’t know how long this is going to last before she explodes and actually demands a conversation which will not be a conversation which is why I don’t want to talk to her anymore and it will be maybe a little different. Maybe it will be like what I just saw from Little t. Oh shit. I’m fucking up the story. I tell a story like a woman sometimes, don’t I? I must feel really good today. No. Yes. Oh my goodness. I do feel good. I got some love today and that’s why I’m making this report. The big guy got some love today. A lot of it. And let me tell you something, it’s a good price for an honest day’s work. I set the price concurrent with what they get for collecting berries or mushrooms. In fact, if they get really good at it, we should definitely give them a raise.

But that wasn’t it. Oh this is crazy. I think I’m having a Freudian moment. Mind if I share it? I am not out of my mind. I’m balancing two stories, one about this one batting practice that kind of stopped the world and the other one is what happened at my sense with dim and Little t and big V. These are my current musketeers and the second story is what that was like. But this moment of rationalization seems to be this distraction that I have. At a glance, I’m thinking that this is PTSD classic and if I had to assign it to something, I would assign it to the things that disturb me from being able to write poetry about nature. I’m not so sure I would really write poetry about nature although sometimes, why not, I can write poetry. I can even write a Shakespeare in the park about Shakespeare in the park. With Shakespeare if I wanted to, couldn’t i? But instead, I am forced to live in a war zone both in microcosm and macrocosm and because people seem to think that keeping each other fucked in the head is just the proper way to live. And I’m like, please, be Christians till the day you die and I die and everything dies and everything burns down and there’s nothing left and you just fucked the entire world because it was more important to keep your fucking slaves then do ecology you fucking narcotic evil you. My hatred runs deep and I don’t even like going here but it exists. I feel like I’m splitting into two people. And this is the Freudian moment. I get these distractions that are genuinely to my understanding life and death. These are constant murders as I see them. I understand in these documents have been using the word crime and not murder but you know, if you really want to get technical about actually being guilty of any crime whatsoever, it is murder. And knowing act of causing harm is exactly what murder is. In fact, if you wanted to play with the Bible, and the Jews genuinely agree with this, thou shalt not kill is actually thou shalt not murder and the term murder means knowingly kill. Actually murder has one more ingredient in it and that is knowingly and maliciously kill. Because the discrepancy there is the loophole that the Jews use to continue to eat meat. They snow blow 10 million words of kosher until nobody really wants to listen anymore and they say okay fine I’ll do it. This is classic coercion of course and I’m not above pointing fingers where fingers need to be pointed. If you want to call me Martin Luther and ask me why I’m nailing this document to the wall, I’m saying that when I read the Torah I see that if we would have gone vegan right there the world would be a paradise and now it’s shit and maybe because we press the book and demanded it existed somebody read it and decided to do exactly what we said to do because we never read it as a metaphor and said that it was corruption that would happen to someone and that it was an allegory of a failure of power. And that the secret was in the pure heart of the revolution but not the corruption of the revolutionary after he assumed power. A true revolutionary would just want to go to work in the morning in his new world and be happy about it. A true revolutionary, a true Green Beret, just wants the noise to stop so he can go back to living his life without being disturbed anymore.

So I put on my hat. It’s not a Green Beret and truly, even if it was my neighbor coming to see me, I don’t think I would put on a Green Beret. I mean if I had one, maybe I would. I have that delivery service. I’m not going to look now. Normally when I write these I say oh, I’m distracted I’ll go look. I’m not going to do that because I know they have one. I’m just righted in Russian and they’ll figure it out and I’ll buy one that seems to be the size of my head and then I will have a Green Beret. I didn’t have one before and I’ve never owned a Green Beret but I can buy a Green Beret and then I can wear a Green Beret and whatever it means to wear a Green Beret will be what it means to everyone who sees me making my fashion statement of wearing a green beret. This is crazy as wondering whether it was a ., ! or a ?.

Right, green berets, association. Army. Fighting. Bloodshed. Hatred. Death. Constant death. Noise. Explosions. Noise. Fear of death. Fear for everything. Complete paranoia with justification for long periods of time with no seeming understanding of why you’re doing what you’re doing except that they will literally shoot you if you do not run forward. Jesus fuck me up the ass Christ can’t anybody cut the top and pull the plug on the Russians already? I’m just saying, I understand that everyone has to go to work in the morning and there’s just nothing else we can do and nobody’s allowed to think or look or do anything and that’s all man. Money is money is money and don’t talk to me and seriously nobody has time for anything in the entire fucking planet and if I’m talking about pollution they say good for you pat pat pat on the head you know.

Somewhere in Minsk there is a revelation. Something I have written has created a moment of logic in the highest levels.

“He wants to start the Communist revolution and I’m the one standing in the way?”

And you can see how that could get a little murky if it was said with an exclamation point or a period.

The actual conversation was the rationalization that I was not calling for a political revolution. The greatest irony in the history of the world is I would never take this fucker out of office if we could just go this direction. He could just call himself King and say fuck it and say that we’re a kingdom and he could live till he dies and then we’ll figure it out that he can’t let his son do it unless he earns it. I mean, you put his son out on the front lines picking up garbage out of the forest and making sure the world is truly kosher, you put him out in the field to pick bugs with everyone else and you have him shower with the boys and flirt with the girls just like anybody and it would be a lot like having Barry Bonds be the manager of a minor league team because the guys richer than God and everybody knows that they got to play on this team. Who knows, maybe some of the greatest leaders played on that team. I wonder who the coach was.

I’m sorry, my thoughts are coming faster than my desire to write them down. Truly, I am having a lovely day and like you do I’m truly lovely days, I’m dreaming my ass off. And all my dreams are good dreams because all my dreams are based in reality. How about that one? How far did that one fly?

So before I get to the story of that batting practice, I picked up my device and I turned on the filming apparatus to record whatever the moment was to be but as I got to the front door and looked at the gate, it was not my neighbor after all. It was Little t. She and her friend or whatever the actual relationship between them is Big v, had gone by a little earlier to go into the forest to collect some mushrooms or berries. I was talking to dim at the time. He had to come by with another bag of garbage and some mushrooms from the forest. I decided not to take these mushrooms but reconfirmed that I would continue to pay for every bag of garbage. It seems though there was something else he wanted to show me. There was something different about his conversation. There was a deeper and more logical connection between information and response. He was there specifically on the loop to collect some money but his technique was different. Perhaps I was not seeing this exactly and I wanted to see it but, I have known him for a long time and this was definitely much, much quieter and much more language like. It was as if something had gotten through to him and I think it maybe has something to do with not smoking cigarettes while taking a walk in the forest to pick up trash left by other people who went into the forest just to put trash there.

I didn’t see this connection but I think it’s also true that dim wanted me to see his face. I know this is true for little t. But is it also true that he just wanted me to look at his face and to see if I had a positive reaction to his activities for betterment of his health. He is having a hard time with meat. He understands alcohol and cigarettes and even gasoline which is not a problem to him. He has a problem letting go of meat.

At this point in the conversation is when Little t came walking by with big V. She smiled at me and said hello and I smiled at her and acknowledged that we have no particular business. Again, I am a man of subtlety but perhaps not of subtlety to have to pay all of my attention to every female who makes a gesture towards me. For the love of God I would never have time for anything else if I agreed to pay attention to every fucking woman who wants my attention. Seriously, you don’t want to be Elvis. He committed suicide. Never, ever forget that. And if he didn’t, he did everything humanly possible to stay completely numb all the time all the way till the end.

Wow, it’s crazy but it seems the South Americans have suddenly had a good day too and started making decisions about how many gringos they wanted in Mexico or in South America generally. Maybe they just want to tell the white people to mind their own business. And perhaps if the white people were not there fucking with them, they wouldn’t need to manufacture narcotics because they could adjust enjoy their lives in peace. Damn, my Spanish translation is working really good.

I mean, it’s not a political revolution. It’s not really about ethnicity and culture anymore because all of that is just shit. It’s just about allowing people with local knowledge of how to work in specific agricultural zones to work in peace in their particular agricultural zones. I mean if the only job at hand was to feed each other and we had the entirety of humanity mobilized into the singular activity of feeding ourselves, but with appropriate clothing, education, medical Care etc. Keep a transportation system going, keep the lights on for a little clean electricity so the cold weather people can have greenhouses in the winter. We let the white people go white because they don’t like too much sun and we let the black people go home in peace because they like to be in the Sun.

That was something else I did today. I was watching that Willie Mays documentary and I was going crazy so I called my friend hutch. He’s a driver and he is not on our team but he’s a pretty good poster boy why we want to have a team. I usually just tell him to retire and offer him what if scenarios. “What if they just pulled your license?”, I asked him and other such Jewish infringements. As I recall, I even tried to unionize his dog. The dog was barking and I didn’t realize whether I was on speaker or not or he could hear me but I could see the dog in the cab barking and I was telling him to bark louder and louder because he needed to tell the owner that the food was really shitty and he didn’t have enough play time and he didn’t really like living his life on the highway and seriously, there had to be a better dog’s life than this bullshit. Which would also be true for the owner. The reason I called him though is he is black and I told him this. I needed some black conversation. I asked him his opinion about what constitutes black and the general idea we came up with is anybody who does not identify as white. I have Jewish friends who obviously come from the same part of the world as I do and have the same skin pigmentation that I have but they see themselves completely as white people. I suppose my parents were also within this group. They said that the jewishness was just a joke like everything else and that really, they were just in society as normal people. Kind of like Willie Mays in a way. What life is like when you are in the white world in an acceptable way but you’re just not fucking white. My neighbor by the way identifies as white clearly though she is not. This is not racism on my part, it is simply an observation of skin tones. I look at my skin and I look at myself walking around shirtless in the summer and I seem completely comfortable. I think this means that I come from a place in the world where there was more sunshine. I guess I adopt to Summer fine. My neighbors do not bother to adapt to any weather. They prefer money even though they live in the country where there is such lovely diversity in texture.

The first thing I said to Little t was that she was wasting my time. But actually that’s not true. When Little t and big V came by, I saw that they were going. I also took the trouble to compliment big V on his rather impressive belly. It is summer time and he was simply wearing an open shirt. Good lord, how much work he has put into that belly. I have had similar bellies in my life and I have seen pictures of them and now I no longer have such bellies. It is not a matter of aesthetics it is a matter of heart attack avoidance. But I did get a chance to compliment him on his belly and he got a laugh out of that.

This was also an amazing sign that good things are happening. The fact that little t and big V were walking together meant that someone had convinced big V but he needed some exercise and to go walk around. It seems that little t was very anxious for me to see this picture. I did not quickly take notice of it, big these belly was in the way of basically everything. It was impossible not to look at it. I think it’s going to be twins. But the point is that some reality has entered into the lives of the neighbors on the other side of the neighbors that we have booked tickets to hell for. It seems there is life in this little village after all.

After I finished with them I came inside and for the life of me, I needed to call Little t to make sure that she understood that the job was available. She had been hiding, as you would expect such people to do, but now she was out in the air. I wanted her to know that even though she had not come to the first meeting, whether or not she understood that I was paying for each bag of garbage was still in question so I called her to say that it was in question. She played poker as women do here and she does not understand how to speak without instigating. Nevertheless I made the call and I told her and she said she understood and then the conversation mercifully came to an end.

So I was in a pretty good mood and then I decided to write this report because I was in a good mood. It seems that whatever yelling I did this morning, and I was rather articulate about it. I was a terrible loud talker this morning. I went outside and there were the distractions and I decided simply to say what I saw in Russian and easily understandable language. When the neighbor across the street decided to cough, I decided to explain where that cough came from, the likelihood of cancer coming to his life, the complete destruction of the value of his own life and that he would take down all of the people around him who would need to take care of him as his life dwindled into garbage. It is doubtful whether the totality of that picture might have a cumulative effect on his decision how to proceed during the rest of the days of his life, but there is the possibility that he might drop smoking now and that the cough was a good enough warning from nature that he had fucked up a little too much. I also mentioned that his decisions to ignore this play the role in my opinion that he was a complete psychotic as well. And as for my neighbors, I simply yelled danger danger danger when their car rolled and discussed every time I heard that there was a moment before or after they got out of the car that they should park the cars on the other side and that they were basically killing everything they touch and had brought nothing but misery to the entire neighborhood by their presence. I did say that and amazingly nothing happened again. It seems, no matter what excuse they made for themselves not to pay attention to me, it seems I am talking loud enough that it gets into their heads even if they don’t agree to come to the gate and say hello. If it is more convenient for them to stay at home and I should speak in a very loud and reasonable voice, this is one of the more interesting variations on practical English I’ve ever done, I feel a bit like kiss on stage and if I don’t make it so fucking loud that we break glass, nobody could possibly hear us.

And then there was the rest of the day. I built the trestles for the grapes and for the pickles because it was the first day to do this. I think I did a pretty good job and then because it was hot I watered everything. I didn’t eat anything because I don’t feel like eating anything. I have something and it makes me have no appetite. If it was the rice and beans that I ate at the end of shabbos, I will be happy for it and let it go with that. Or it’s just more covid. It seems people during the weekend it came up and brought their diseases with them so that they could share them with us. Lots of people who cannot stay at home because they do not have homes worth staying in and they decide to go out to the country and bring all of this shit with them. I thought this was a retirement place not a destination for seriously ill car drivers.

But as I said, I was in a good mood so I started writing these reports and it was exactly at the break of these two reports that my name was called. I picked up my phone and went outside but it was Little t.

I said something mildly rude and ironic in language asking her why she was bothering me and explaining that I was expecting it to be my neighbor. Why was she bothering me? And then she said something about the garbage. I asked her what was not clear. And then she made some other movements and started playing with the garbage bags for some reason and I had to tell her to stop. And then she tried to say a command to me and I told her that if she ever tries to command me again, there will be no further business between us and she said she understood. And then I asked her if she had any further business and she smiled at me and that’s when I noticed her face. She has not been smoking. And I mentioned this that I appreciate being someone who could be trusted to notice such things.

So it was not a false alarm it was a good alarm. I have a new business. There’s a new business here in town. There’s an employer who pays for ecological work. So far, the joy of ownership exceeds mild thoughts of how much these mookies can suck out of me before I can figure out how to use other people’s money. Or, I just got children back, didn’t I. I just got people who agreed to return to innocence simply because they thought it might actually be better than whatever they’ve been doing for however long they’ve been doing it. So I headed back to the house, turned towards my neighbor’s house and mentioned that I had recorded the entire thing thinking that it might be her and that she should keep in mind that we would never have another conversation in our lives that would not be filmed or covered by other people as witnesses or possibly by the police with handcuffs. And then I said one more fuck you because I am a religious man.

And that brings us to this last part of the report and why I’m still in such a good mood. I had a pretty good day today. Yes I did call me yes I did, yes I did. I deserve to give myself a round of applause, let’s go.

I could probably look up the park. It was just a softball complex that had I think four diamonds all converging into the center. I was playing at a cage that is sort of the marker for the biggest diamond that would be in use during League games. I guess they just let kids do what they want in a smaller context and then they kick him off so they alcoholics can get some exercise. But the wind was blowing out to left and somebody decided it was a good time to take batting practice and they told me to take my cuts. I don’t remember why, I just remember how many people watched the fireworks show. There was a fence out there. I think that fence could be measured. If I were to take a guess though, I would say it’s in the mid to high 400 ft range. If I say 500 I’m just playing with my ego. I’m just saying there were a lot of people watching and a lot of people in the outfield trying to catch these balls. And the only thing I want to say that might bring a slight nuance to the conversation because I don’t know if I’ve heard anyone else say this, but there’s a really interesting effect when you absolutely tag a baseball, it has to do with the length of original trajectory. But the effect is that the ball stays in one place flying in One direction but becomes smaller. That’s where the distance comes in. These days they stay launch angle and exit velo. You could probably put some numbers on it and say that it was good and that everybody does better these days. It’s probably true that we figured out a lot of stuff in the last 35 years or so. But at that moment, it was just a bunch of people thinking that watching me pit balls was about the most interesting thing they could possibly do in the world. How about that?

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