The Cubs just won a game that took 5 hours, where they used every player and pitcher, the catcher threw out four runners, for two tense bases loaded at bats they put five fielders in the infield, their leadoff hitter dove safely at first to beat out a throw in the top of the 12th, Kris Bryant played Left, 3rd and 1st at different parts of the bottom of the 12th, and their pitcher drew a walk with the bases loaded to drive in what would be the winning run. Baseball has always been fun, Bryce.
megyn kelly was on tv last night
talking to mr donald j trump,
(the billionaire)
and he was fantastic.
he has learned how to show a tad of humility
admit theres a scintilla
of a possibility
that he could have done things differently
at one little moment in the past.
(or at least he’s better at pretending.)
but the lesson that ive learned from him is the practice of puke and rally.
no matter what happens
no matter what he does or says
if he stumbles, he, like taylor swift
shakes it off.
he pukes and then rallies.
he told megyn that if he did it any other way he probably wouldnt be as successful as he has become.
as she said, he’s one step away from being president.
she said it in a weird, fangirl groupie way, and it isn’t true, trump doesnt stand a chance, but i guess in some weird omg annnnything can happen way it’s true.
like how im only 6 numbers away from being a multi millionaire.
and just like how every time i lose at the lottery, i just rip up the ticket and go on with my day,
when trump realizes that he was wrong to say All Mexicans are here to rob and rape and steal
or how he encouraged people at his rally to be violent to others
he doesn’t obsess over it, like a human would.
he gets it out of his system
and moves on.
i think theres a life lesson in there for all of us.
additionally, no one has to hold trumps hair when he pukes.
so hes got that going for him.
the past tells me what i did where i was what went wrong what went right
the future is just a day dream a promise a dream a lie a fantasy a mirage
in the past we were laying by a pool holding hands drinking drinks laughing
and laughing and laughing and then
back in the room we made the world spin around us
french doors opened to the sun as if to say look
look
look all you angels
this is what its all about
and afterwards we stared at the ceiling goofy faces on our smiles
and talked about tomorrow
which was just a daydream a promise a dream a lie a fantasy a mirage
well intentioned but false because the only person who can predict the future
are the worms
at the cemetery
who dont know the exact date
but know dinners coming
so they wait
they had a deal at my grade school that if you made the honor roll you got to go to a Cubs game.
i did not make the honor roll due to a technicality but my sister did.
the technicality was i didnt give a flying fuck about the honor roll.
until i was out on the sod farm with my friends playing baseball that afternoon and we heard on the radio that we had carried out there that the game was 17-6 heading into the bottom of the 4th inning.
so we grabbed our stuff, got on our bikes and hauled ass to the nearest kids’ house to watch the game.
it was windy that afternoon which is why the game had so much scoring.
the phillies were mighty with the likes of Mike Schmidt and Larry Bowa, two of my favorite non-Cubs. Greg Luzinski might have still been on that team too – WHO CAN REMEMBER THAT FAR BACK I WAS BARELY ALIVE.
the game ended in nailbiter: 23-22. and i wasnt there. the “smart kids” from my school were there. our friends. many of whom couldnta named one Cub if they tried other than Ryne Sandberg
and it taught me right there and then and stuck with me forever that life isnt fair.
the phillies will beat the cubs. the non sports fans will go to one of the coolest games ever. that your sister will get things that rightfully belong to you.
but in the end, life will go on.
last night i drove a kid, a middle schooler, from a big house in the hollywood hills, to a gated mansion behind two gates in the beverly hills hills called beverly crest.
as we drove past the security check point i said, you gotta tell me, why is it that kids dont even play in the streets in gated communities? do you really just want to play video games and listen to music?
he said, all we want to do is play video games.
and i dropped him off in front of a giant wall. as i turned around i saw him speaking into a speaker box. and as i pulled away i saw the giant gates open and he entered to go inside to play with his friend.
if Uber was around in 1979, for sure me and my friends would have ubered to that freaking game.
but life wasnt fair then.
thankfully it is now.
it seems like every year i try a few times to take people from Rose Bowl events
and every year it becomes a total waste of my time.
im not sure if it’s the government of Pasadena or the police of Pasadena or Rose Bowl officials
but every time there’s a concert or a game there they act as if it’s the first time anyone has ever been there
which is weird because the 100,000 capacity stadium is 6 years shy of celebrating its 100th birthday.
the stadium is tucked away in a wealthy neighborhood and up aside a mountain range
it’s also very close to two freeways.
that makes it both hard and easy to get to depending on whether officials decide to close or open freeway on ramps.
for some reason the geniuses in control close all but one road going into the rose bowl about an hour before the concert is about to end
and they keep it closed NO MATTER WHAT up to two hours after the event is over.
so let’s say you’re an Uber driver and you get to the show early and you sit in the golf course and you get a passenger and take them home
and then let’s say you want to go back to the venue to pick up someone else: forget about it.
not only are the roads closed going in, but the cops, the rentacops, and the security will treat you like you are a terrible ignorant person up to no good.
meanwhile inside and all around the rose bowl the cell reception is horrible because no one has ever thought about putting a cell phone repeater in there. or whatever it’s called. so guess what? everyones phones are dying and you cant tell them “walk two miles to the Jack in the Box where hundreds of people in their sexiest Beyonce outfits are stranded, waiting for ANYONE to drive them home.”
the whole thing is a extremely fixable disaster. and here’s how they can fix it.
there are temporary barriers surrounding the location with guards letting residents in.
let Uber / Lyft and limos through too. we are not trying to rob anyone. we are just trying to get to the Rose Bowl and pick people up.
it really is that simple.
did it feel like it?
nope.
it didnt even feel like a two hour ride.
the weirdest thing is we drove 21 miles. made several stops.
and all i got out of it, other than the incredible conversation with the
gang member drug dealer and his bff sorta girlfriend
was $79 and a far better understanding of south central
and which liquor stores i should go into and not go into
and where in koreatown i should
just completely avoid
because death awaits
my negro.
It’s Friday
The Cubs are in First Place
And I love you
ive been doing this gangsta shit since 2001 and in that time this blog has gotten me jobs and travel and friends and fancy cars and pretty much everything a man could ever want.
but today, a little bird reminds me, is the tenth anniversary of when a beautiful young lady, aged 21 i think, flew across the country to meet me.
and when she arrived i picked her up at the airport and drove her to my house and she put her suitcase on the floor and we looked at each other
and i said, well. and she said, yep.
and i said you flew all the way here to meet me?
and she said yep.
and i said here i am.
and she said and here i am.
so i slowly took off my cowboy shirt and hat and she took off hers.
and we stood there, hatless looking at each other as my christmas lights twinkled and i said, so you’ll do whatever i want right now?
and she said yep.
so i said twirl around a little so i can see if youre carrying a weapon.
and she said you are way better than i expected.
and i discovered that she was not carrying any weapons
and that was just the first of many discoveries that we had that weekend and it was, ive gotta say, one of the top ten things that have happened to me that wouldnta happened if i hadnta written a blog way back in 2001
which is one of the reasons i try to convince everyone out there in the world to write write write write or draw draw draw or whatever you do
do it.
because it just might ring true to someone else. and they might be tall and tanned and way prettier in real life
than on flickr.
dont you?
i wanna try and experiment and work
and create and push limits and inspire
and figure shit out and rock rock
till we all die.
i had lunch with a pretty girl the other day who said she started working for this place a few months ago and
she’s pretty fancy so they promised her all these things if she worked there
but then her boss’s boss took off and was replaced by this new boss
and that boss would say that she was super punk rock and experimental
but it turned out she was just the opposite
more like a country line dance.
everything had to be exactly the same as it was before and everyone had to do it
and this boss was super awkward to talk with even thought she said
you know karen i have an open door policy
which shoulda been a red flag right away because thats like if you have a girlfriend
and she says, you know tony, i would never cheat on you
with two guys behind a 7-11
on a sunday night
when you are at home reading the bible
even if we just had a fight and id always dreamt of
doing it in the back seat
of an El Camino on an unusually warm spring night
in the valley.
as you well know by now she was my first girlfriend when we were in high school in illinois
i havent heard from her since she sen me a little toy truck several years ago
and we havent seen each other since there were fires in san dieger, where she has been living since forever.
when we were kids we would write each other every day using stationary and colored pens and i would draw things and she would say the sweetest things and i would say them right back.
every day the biggest thrill in the world was going to the mail box and getting one of her letters. it was like getting a message from Heaven itself.
maybe im still writing her with this blog.
maybe i moved to california the day i could just to get her back
maybe i never moved out of california so we would maybe one day run into each other and say oh hey
would she even recognize me?
maybe i wear a cubs hat every day so she would
maybe ive never gotten married or had kids or gone to jail so the door would remain open and we could finish what we started in schaumburg and hayward
which was making out in the back seat of my cadillac right before the cops broke it up because why would a beautiful, tall blonde girl want with a skinny dude with an afro?
maybe life is figuring out the answer to that.
what if she moved away to hawaii long ago and im just a dog going to a bowl thats been empty for ever
and right next door is a damn dog food factory but hes just sniffing that empty bowl
that used to be filled with pork chops
and apple sauce.
hawaii it is