it was a more simpler time. when the first president bush sent us to iraq it was fucked up but no americans died. except those who shot each other on accident or smashed their helicopters against the ground.
saddam was still in power with his rape rooms but we were all its cool its cool. iraqis had the right to vote – they had the right to vote for anyone named saddam hussein. and again it was all good cuz even though these were the days of imbeciles youd also get voted out after a while.
like i say, they were simpler times.
didnt matter what radio station you listened to there was always something good on. they even tried to ruin it with pearl jam and stone temple fuckups but it just ended up sounding pretty decent no matter what they threw at us.
gasoline was ninety nine cents a gallon, girls would blow you on the first date without thinkng twice about it, and if you had a computer with a 40 MB hard drive you were so far ahead of the game it was retarded. i remember asking my roommate what the hell are we going to do with 40 megs – fly to the moon?
matt welch and i were 16 years old and we were allowed into ucsb early because we destroyed all over their standardized tests. me, i also had an incredible letter of recommendation from the mayor of my town and welch had pictures of the former chancellor with his nanny. we were set.
part of our scholarship was an agreement that we would give back to the community. of course we thought that it meant that we would either do some male modeling or supervise the amount of sunscreen that the coeds were using on the beach. when we were presented with the option of coaching 9 and 10 year old kids baseball, welch and i jumped at the chance.
with visions of undefeated seasons and decades of dynasties we scoffed at the santa barbara little league officials who told us that we were getting the worst team and considered it a minor challenge.
when we lost our first game 79-2 we understood what we were up against.
i had one kid hunting for strawberries in right field, i had one kid in the early stages of gang warfare at third base, and i had one adorable little chubby cheeked angel pissing his pants in the batters box.
1990. it was a season i will never forget. when my college girlfriend jeanine posted this picture to her buzznet page yesterday and i did the math and realized as welchie did that all these kids were either college grads by now or dead or in iraq it really brought home the olde saying that time really does fly.
it does my friends so do something memorable every spring.
now the cute story that people should be talking about in the blogosphere is that this is a band of two mighty political bloggers: ken layne and matt 
or two.
