> I been to a few big league games. Last time I went I got seats right behind the dugout. They were very good. I enjoyed it. But having far away seats is bad. Same with any sports except maybe hand grenade tossing.

Some sports - like hand grenade tossing - might be even better viewed from a distance. Get the bigger picture that way. I have been to several big league games. As a kid I was at the Polo Grounds. But I was young and have no distinct memories of it. I was at Dodger Stadium twice, both times in the outfield beyond third base. I did not like it one bit. I also do not like the loudspeakers. To me baseball is a pastural game. I like only the sounds of the game and the smell of the grass, get rid of those fucking loud speakers. Here in this town they have a minor league team that few years ago got a new stadium and the cost of admission went way up. But at the old field, which was a nice one, it was only 2 or 3 bucks for a seat behind home plate. Unless it was a meaningful game there was always a spot directly behind the catcher. That is the only way I can enjoy it, seeing the pitches.

One time I went alone to Santa Barbara for 2 days. Back in the early 80s. Unbelievable, I got a Motel Six room only two blocks from the beach for $12 a night. I was into jogging at the time. I didn't like it, it was a discipline for me, one I took up when I quit smoking (the first time) at age 29. Also doing some chin-ups and dips. I jogged on the beach first. Then I found a park. They had equipment. I did my thing. I noticed some kind of game going on. Softball. There were bleachers. I went over. These guys were good. I found out many were ex semi pro players. They were playing slow pitch where everyone could hit the ball, but the defensive plays were outstanding. I really enjoyed it. Just happened into. I was a big drinker then. When I was done at the park I walked around to see where the bars were. I went back to the motel and freshened up.

That night the first bar I went to was a place called the "Instant Replay Bar." They had a large screen set up showing a ball game of some kind. I then realized it was the same game I had seen earlier that day. The guys from both teams were in the bar watching it. I thought, "Wow, what a great idea", but I never saw it take off. I would say it was the most enjoyable ball game I have ever watched in person for a variety of reasons. First, happening upon it by chance. Second, how good the players were. Third, no music, no advertisements, no noise other than people cheering in the small bleachers setup. I enjoyed it. It was pastoral.

On Tuesday, June 8, 2021 at 12:39:23 AM UTC-4, jazee...@gmail.com wrote:
> > I been to a few big league games. Last time I went I got seats right behind the dugout. They were very good. I enjoyed it. But having far away seats is bad. Same with any sports except maybe hand grenade tossing.
> Some sports - like hand grenade tossing - might be even better viewed from a distance. Get the bigger picture that way. I have been to several big league games. As a kid I was at the Polo Grounds. But I was young and have no distinct memories of it. I was at Dodger Stadium twice, both times in the outfield beyond third base. I did not like it one bit. I also do not like the loudspeakers. To me baseball is a pastural game. I like only the sounds of the game and the smell of the grass, get rid of those fucking loud speakers. Here in this town they have a minor league team that few years ago got a new stadium and the cost of admission went way up. But at the old field, which was a nice one, it was only 2 or 3 bucks for a seat behind home plate. Unless it was a meaningful game there was always a spot directly behind the catcher. That is the only way I can enjoy it, seeing the pitches.
>
> One time I went alone to Santa Barbara for 2 days. Back in the early 80s. Unbelievable, I got a Motel Six room only two blocks from the beach for $12 a night. I was into jogging at the time. I didn't like it, it was a discipline for me, one I took up when I quit smoking (the first time) at age 29. Also doing some chin-ups and dips. I jogged on the beach first. Then I found a park. They had equipment. I did my thing. I noticed some kind of game going on. Softball. There were bleachers. I went over. These guys were good.. I found out many were ex semi pro players. They were playing slow pitch where everyone could hit the ball, but the defensive plays were outstanding. I really enjoyed it. Just happened into. I was a big drinker then. When I was done at the park I walked around to see where the bars were. I went back to the motel and freshened up.
>
> That night the first bar I went to was a place called the "Instant Replay Bar." They had a large screen set up showing a ball game of some kind. I then realized it was the same game I had seen earlier that day. The guys from both teams were in the bar watching it. I thought, "Wow, what a great idea", but I never saw it take off. I would say it was the most enjoyable ball game I have ever watched in person for a variety of reasons. First, happening upon it by chance. Second, how good the players were. Third, no music, no advertisements, no noise other than people cheering in the small bleachers setup. I enjoyed it. It was pastoral.

Cemetaries would make good sports field. Then when a team gets murdered you can bury them when it is over.

> Cemetaries would make good sports field. Then when a team gets murdered you can bury them when it is over.

How many days would it take to stomp a guy into a grave. A grave of his own body's making. I'm talking repeated tantrum stomps - gorilla style, up and down, over and over again on the corpse - rompo-stomping it till it begins to etch its way into the earth, ever so slowly, then building momentum as more of it is driven into the sod until finally the entire body is beneath ground level but still visible. This is the toughest part, stomping the earth over the corpse after days of massive energy expense getting it in there. No shovels. No equipment. Just a pair of boots and a lot of desire. Now get to it Maggot. Stomp that corpse into the turf.

On Tuesday, June 8, 2021 at 11:33:56 PM UTC-4, jazee...@gmail.com wrote:
> > Cemetaries would make good sports field. Then when a team gets murdered you can bury them when it is over.
> How many days would it take to stomp a guy into a grave. A grave of his own body's making. I'm talking repeated tantrum stomps - gorilla style, up and down, over and over again on the corpse - rompo-stomping it till it begins to etch its way into the earth, ever so slowly, then building momentum as more of it is driven into the sod until finally the entire body is beneath ground level but still visible. This is the toughest part, stomping the earth over the corpse after days of massive energy expense getting it in there. No shovels. No equipment. Just a pair of boots and a lot of desire. Now get to it Maggot. Stomp that corpse into the turf.

Stomp is a funny word. Sounds like what it is.

> Stomp is a funny word. Sounds like what it is.

I hate the word. Now I have seen plenty of stomping. Too many. Race and ethnicity has nothing to do with - a very equal opportunity type thing I've found. I have seen stomp done as it sounds, up and down gorilla tantrum style, or sometimes just a foot giving the head a downward "fuck you" shove. While the stomp is brutal it can't compare to a direct field goal kicker style boot to the face of a prone already unconscious target. I have seen some beatings that made me feel very pessimistic about the human race in general with entire crowds getting into it. One time I happened up a group stomping a guy on Hollywood and Highland. When they were 'done' and were walking away, a spectator walked past the still unconscious middle of the street body, paused a moment as if thinking, "Should I or shouldn't I?", before delivering a kick to the face of the down and outer. None of them cared if what they were wailing on died. I have seen many such attacks that are called battery but are really as good as attempted murder.

Phil Spectator

On Wednesday, June 9, 2021 at 5:12:21 PM UTC-4, jazee...@gmail.com wrote:
> > Stomp is a funny word. Sounds like what it is.
> I hate the word. Now I have seen plenty of stomping. Too many. Race and ethnicity has nothing to do with - a very equal opportunity type thing I've found. I have seen stomp done as it sounds, up and down gorilla tantrum style, or sometimes just a foot giving the head a downward "fuck you" shove. While the stomp is brutal it can't compare to a direct field goal kicker style boot to the face of a prone already unconscious target. I have seen some beatings that made me feel very pessimistic about the human race in general with entire crowds getting into it. One time I happened up a group stomping a guy on Hollywood and Highland. When they were 'done' and were walking away, a spectator walked past the still unconscious middle of the street body, paused a moment as if thinking, "Should I or shouldn't I?", before delivering a kick to the face of the down and outer. None of them cared if what they were wailing on died. I have seen many such attacks that are called battery but are really as good as attempted murder.
>
> Phil Spectator

I am not a promoter of violence. I wish I could say I abhor it but I have watched fights. I know I abhor it when it is against me.

> I am not a promoter of violence. I wish I could say I abhor it but I have watched fights. I know I abhor it when it is against me.

It is hard to turn away. I have watched. But I have stopped my share. Early on, before the crowd gets big. I have used the cab to save people. Not always directly involved, usually just yelling, "Here come the cops", or something.

One night around 3am jogging home from parking the cab I'm on Hollywood Blvd about a block from a bus bench on which sits a peon type Mexican. I see a low rider car approaching. It has him in its radar. A bunch of guys pile out. A girl is driving. The peon gets up and starts to run. Very slow. Too slow. The car was right behind the group, going side to side, like herding cattle. They caught up with the guy and beat him with boards. I was passing them, pretending not to look. They put the guy in the car and away they went. There was nothing I could have done - or I would have been next. I am not claiming to be pure and innocent and free of inner violence, but I really do hate the sound of someone getting beaten, and have seen some that resulted in lousy sleep for days. Only later in life did I learn - if I saw there was nothing I could do to stop it - to just walk or drive away. Don't watch. Sure, I may be compelled to watch, but in the long haul I don't like it - never liked it from the time I was a kid in the institutions I saw a lot of kids cry - not a day without it - and even if it wasn't me doing the crying it had pretty much the same effect on me if it was somebody else.

I'm a melon-mashing macho man
From just south of Moro Bay
And I'm flipped out on the Nacho man
And this is what I say:

I dig the sound of popping skulls
Shredded lips and busted noses
The fu-tile pleas of victims stomped
And beat with rubber hoses

I dig when chicks are gatherered near
To hear their useless plea
Humiliate with power sneer
They gaze in awe at me

Most guys go out and cruise the street
And practice phony rap
But I impress the gals I meet
Without that corny crap

I pound their boyfriend's heads to pulp
I bloody up their face
I demonstrate how weak they are
And then I take their place

With girlfriend new I stroll the street
In search of helpless prey
The fragile schoolboy toting books
Or a punk who might be gay

Now you might remark that I pick my spots
When I whip these worthless hicks
You may be aware that I'm not so tough
But I sure impress the chicks...............

On Thursday, June 10, 2021 at 5:31:32 PM UTC-4, jazee...@gmail.com wrote:
> > I am not a promoter of violence. I wish I could say I abhor it but I have watched fights. I know I abhor it when it is against me.
> It is hard to turn away. I have watched. But I have stopped my share. Early on, before the crowd gets big. I have used the cab to save people. Not always directly involved, usually just yelling, "Here come the cops", or something.
>
> One night around 3am jogging home from parking the cab I'm on Hollywood Blvd about a block from a bus bench on which sits a peon type Mexican. I see a low rider car approaching. It has him in its radar. A bunch of guys pile out. A girl is driving. The peon gets up and starts to run. Very slow. Too slow. The car was right behind the group, going side to side, like herding cattle. They caught up with the guy and beat him with boards. I was passing them, pretending not to look. They put the guy in the car and away they went. There was nothing I could have done - or I would have been next. I am not claiming to be pure and innocent and free of inner violence, but I really do hate the sound of someone getting beaten, and have seen some that resulted in lousy sleep for days. Only later in life did I learn - if I saw there was nothing I could do to stop it - to just walk or drive away. Don't watch. Sure, I may be compelled to watch, but in the long haul I don't like it - never liked it from the time I was a kid in the institutions I saw a lot of kids cry - not a day without it - and even if it wasn't me doing the crying it had pretty much the same effect on me if it was somebody else.
>
>
> I'm a melon-mashing macho man
> From just south of Moro Bay
> And I'm flipped out on the Nacho man
> And this is what I say:
>
> I dig the sound of popping skulls
> Shredded lips and busted noses
> The fu-tile pleas of victims stomped
> And beat with rubber hoses
>
> I dig when chicks are gatherered near
> To hear their useless plea
> Humiliate with power sneer
> They gaze in awe at me
>
> Most guys go out and cruise the street
> And practice phony rap
> But I impress the gals I meet
> Without that corny crap
>
> I pound their boyfriend's heads to pulp
> I bloody up their face
> I demonstrate how weak they are
> And then I take their place
>
> With girlfriend new I stroll the street
> In search of helpless prey
> The fragile schoolboy toting book s
> Or a punk who might be gay
>
> Now you might remark that I pick my spots
> When I whip these worthless hicks
> You may be aware that I'm not so tough
> But I sure impress the chicks...............

LOL

Classic

On Saturday, June 12, 2021 at 12:49:08 AM UTC-4, OllieN...@aol.com wrote:
> On Thursday, June 10, 2021 at 5:31:32 PM UTC-4, jazee...@gmail.com wrote:
> > > I am not a promoter of violence. I wish I could say I abhor it but I have watched fights. I know I abhor it when it is against me.
> > It is hard to turn away. I have watched. But I have stopped my share. Early on, before the crowd gets big. I have used the cab to save people. Not always directly involved, usually just yelling, "Here come the cops", or something.
> >
> > One night around 3am jogging home from parking the cab I'm on Hollywood Blvd about a block from a bus bench on which sits a peon type Mexican. I see a low rider car approaching. It has him in its radar. A bunch of guys pile out. A girl is driving. The peon gets up and starts to run. Very slow. Too slow. The car was right behind the group, going side to side, like herding cattle. They caught up with the guy and beat him with boards. I was passing them, pretending not to look. They put the guy in the car and away they went. There was nothing I could have done - or I would have been next. I am not claiming to be pure and innocent and free of inner violence, but I really do hate the sound of someone getting beaten, and have seen some that resulted in lousy sleep for days. Only later in life did I learn - if I saw there was nothing I could do to stop it - to just walk or drive away. Don't watch. Sure, I may be compelled to watch, but in the long haul I don't like it - never liked it from the time I was a kid in the institutions I saw a lot of kids cry - not a day without it - and even if it wasn't me doing the crying it had pretty much the same effect on me if it was somebody else.
> >
> >
> > I'm a melon-mashing macho man
> > From just south of Moro Bay
> > And I'm flipped out on the Nacho man
> > And this is what I say:
> >
> > I dig the sound of popping skulls
> > Shredded lips and busted noses
> > The fu-tile pleas of victims stomped
> > And beat with rubber hoses
> >
> > I dig when chicks are gatherered near
> > To hear their useless plea
> > Humiliate with power sneer
> > They gaze in awe at me
> >
> > Most guys go out and cruise the street
> > And practice phony rap
> > But I impress the gals I meet
> > Without that corny crap
> >
> > I pound their boyfriend's heads to pulp
> > I bloody up their face
> > I demonstrate how weak they are
> > And then I take their place
> >
> > With girlfriend new I stroll the street
> > In search of helpless prey
> > The fragile schoolboy toting book s
> > Or a punk who might be gay
> >
> > Now you might remark that I pick my spots
> > When I whip these worthless hicks
> > You may be aware that I'm not so tough
> > But I sure impress the chicks...............
> LOL
>
> Classic

> LOL
>
> Classic

I was in my 20s or 30s when I wrote that one. They could all be better but they usually get a laugh. I have done these on stage. They were my only crutch. Some guys turn to their guitar when things start going awry on them. The poems were my guitar.

The Gentle Weeper

On Saturday, June 12, 2021 at 3:35:09 PM UTC-4, jazee...@gmail.com wrote:
> > LOL
> >
> > Classic
>
>
> I was in my 20s or 30s when I wrote that one. They could all be better but they usually get a laugh. I have done these on stage. They were my only crutch. Some guys turn to their guitar when things start going awry on them. The poems were my guitar.
>
> The Gentle Weeper

Now for my next bit my Guitar will gently weep....