spaceball ricochet

I know I am small, but I enjoy living anyway.







Went to the Dodger-Marlins game to see what would happen with LoDuca. The fans cheered for him like nuts every time, and even cheered when they brought out Mota. And tonight the Dodgers sucked. I knew they would as soon as we took out seats.



"The Dodgers will lose tonight. They don't have the heart to beat LoDuca."







And they didn't. How could they beat LoDuca, squatting there in the one place in the world he feels most at home?



LoDuca, who's hitting something like .415 now?



LoDuca, whom all the cynics and number-crunchers said was no good after the all-stars.



I don't have much hope for the Dodgers.



I do have hope for the fans, though. Not only did they know which players to cheer for, but during the "AOL Sessions" contest, they got to choose between hearing Sheryl Crowe, the Cure, and David Bowie, and they chose Bowie.



Let the people decide.







Now, poetry.



Thanks for this poem, Tony. (I do cry.)



"bluebird"

by charles bukowski



there's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I'm too tough for him,

I say, stay in there, I'm not going

to let anybody see you.



there's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I pour whiskey on him and inhale

cigarette smoke

and the whores and the bartenders

and the grocery clerks

never know that

he's in there.





there's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I'm too tough for him,

I say,

stay down, do you want to

mess me up?

you want to screw up the works?

you want to blow my book sales in Europe?



there's a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I'm too clever, I only let him out

at night

sometimes

when everybody's asleep.



I say, I know that you're there,

so don't be sad.



then I put him back,

but he's singing a little

in there,

I haven't quite let him die

and we sleep together like that

with our

secret pact

and it's nice enough to

make a man weep,

but I don't weep,

do you?