I don’t write in a journal everyday, but I have accumulated many entries over the past 50+ years beginning in 1966. Some items evolved into longer works. Among the leftovers little pieces survived. I thought a collection of these with a piece culled from the same date in a past year would make an interesting yearbook. The consistencies and inconsistencies of mind, skipping back and forth across time, provide varied perspectives. It is difficult to remember the context of the past we’ve lived; we also make suppositions about times that predate ourselves.

The few alterations from original drafts were to improve clarity. The worst of my work is not included. There remains enough mediocrity and immaturity to make me feel humble and you feel smart. There are also moments of accidental insight and incidental humor.

Author Stephen Crane referred to his little pieces as pills…apparently they were small and somewhat hard to swallow, but good for you.


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Monday, March 12, 2018

Spring Training in the Bush


March 12, 1974  (I was 29)

   Spring Training in the Bush
That man in Canada did not die
With the bayonet at his throat
He turned and ran weaponless
Sliding across the border like stealing second
We’ve been hitless ever since
Still we blame the stranded runner
Most of our hitters got drafted
Some signed heavy contracts
How many outs we got?
Still no score
Maybe we could’ve won with more like him
Bunt and run men
Give him the sign
In the end it don’t matter whether you struck out
Or whether you were thrown out at home
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