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Jimmy Carter didn't give me no damn malaise.
Rollo's *not* gonna like this....
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Tarzan on a big red scooter
Jimmy Carter didn't give me no damn malaise.
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- RubberCrutch
- Champaign-Urbana, IL
- RubberCrutch, 14-watt illuminatus and man about town, earns his living as a simple country editor, as if toiling on a chain gang beside Larry Fine, making little sentences out of big ones. He has 30 years of professional experience in written and visual communications, including journalism, public relations, advertising, technical publishing, and photography. In connection with some of those roles he has won several unimportant awards. [Editor's note: in archived Fifty50 posts, all references to one "StuporMundi" in fact pertain to our hero, RubberCrutch, unless otherwise noted. Thank you for your attention in this matter.]
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It is the mission of this weblog to offer you, at least half the time, an assortment of essays and pictures pertaining to current events, aesthetic studies, psychological inquiries, and everyday tomfoolery, presented in a jocular setting that is suitable for Mom, Pop, Junior, and Sis, as long as Mom and Sis do not object to literature that sometimes contains words such as "asshole" and "fuck."
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damn, that's harsh, Vick
ReplyDeleteThe first game I attended was at Comisky Park as a Cub Scout, and my dad was along for the bus ride. But in order to emulate the family tastes, I attached my allegiance to the Cubs back about the time Kenny Hubbs bought the farm. I had no idea what I was doing; now I understand that my father and brother were worse monsters than Stalin for influencing me in this way. If I had stuck with the Sox from the start I might still be interested in baseball.
ReplyDeleteThe game is a complete mystery. Rather like cricket is to you guys. Right?
ReplyDeleteThink 'rounders' (so I'm told). It's all good.
ReplyDeleteNo doubt social schisms persist, but the commonality of beer + baseball exists. Although, at Wrigley there's still a tip o' hat to proper, God fearing, upright sobriety. In straight away left field (where a goodly number of right handed hitters barrage...especially when playing the Cubs at home, eh?) there's a small "Family Section" where beer is not allowed. For some reason putting these unimpaired targets right in the line of fire has always amused me (especially after quaffing a few).
ReplyDeleteHonus Balonus
Marginalia: I think baseball has fewer categories of physical tasks and less required hardware. You'd probably be surprised how simplistic baseball is in comparison with cricket.
ReplyDeleteAnonymous: I'd just as soon pour boiling oil on the lot of them from the scoreboard, assuming a nice easterly gale blowing in from the lake. Modern day Cubs fans don't deserve Wrigley field. The Cubs need to get those fans back from the early '80s who, day after day, heckled Lee Elia into a slow burn that finally exploded into a tapestry of invective and swearing about worthless Cubs fans. His performance art was captured by the tape recorder of a WLS sports reporter and immediately went "viral" on Larry Lujack's radio program (day after day). Result? The last-place Cubs immediately went on a winning streak that lasted until the All-Star Break, when they stood one mere game out of first. Well, guess what happened after the All-Star Break?