Light in Summer

Summer phospheresence:
Little flashes in the darkness
Memories of pre-science class,
Running with mason jars
Grasping at the dying twilight
Wresting control of the nightime
With a jar full of blinking light

Place it on the dusty shelf
Next to the watermelon rind
And the peach pits
And the aroma of Fourth of July
Gunpowder.

Blackberry cobbler, sweet and tart
With buttery flakes of pastry
Vanilla ice cream dripping down
The berrys staining our fingers
As we pull them off the bush.

Throw a ball, imagine yourself
At Yankee Stadium, with the Mick
And Billy and Yogi on deck;
Whitey is pitching today.

In Atlanta, Hank is at the plate
Big blue 44 on his back,
And you hold your breath tightly
Within your chest as you wait, wait
And the swing and the piece of whiteness
Is sailing toward the fence.

Sailing toward Summer.

The consolation of memory

Sometimes when I am covered up with files and matters and cases and feel overwhelmed with t he requirements of the day and the week and the week to come, my mind drifts to other places, former homes and places dear to me. I have been thinking of Hopkinsville and Clarksville and South Christian County and I can travel to a barbecue at St. Elmo where young girls are singing gospel songs and the pork is sublime with flavor and I just might catch a glance from a cute blonde girl or I might be watching a football game at the municipal stadium and the other team fumbles near the goal line and the students stand up and start yelling, "Let's go Peay!"

Or we might be driving up to Pennyrile Park where my cousin will get his head stuck in a revolving gate and we will watch the ranger work his head out of the gate or I will watch some men catching catfish with their bare hands in the shallows of the lake. And the sun will shine through the leaves as we head back to Hoptown where we will sit on the back porch and eat frozen popsicles until it is time to go back inside for supper.

Or the Greenwood barbecue is on and we are eating barbecued chicken with a wonderful peppery flavor and cole slaw and baked beans. Iced tea. And it is summer and the blackberries are thick on the bushes in the low areas and my grandmother will make the sweet and tart blackberry cobbler, served with vanilla ice cream. That is Summer.

A Day at Ferrell's

Enjoy this little trip through part of my childhood. The Burger Chef is gone and some of the old motor courts on Fort Campbell Boulevard are no longer as nice as they once were, but you can still eat a little hamburger at Ferrell's and a steak at Charlie's Steakhouse and you can still drive down 41 from Hopkinsville past Fort Campbell to Clarksville. Of course, its quicker down I-24.

Memories of food

I would have to make a trip with someone who is not bothered by a more old-fashioned ambiance. I understand that Charlies' still allows people to smoke in the restaurant, which would take Cindy out of the picture. Kate might go. I remember when I was a child and we always would pass Charlies' either way as we passed from Hopkinsville to Clarksville or vice versa. I was always entranced by the brick building and the cows on the premises. Big Hereford cows. I imagined that they borrowed cows from my grandfather's pasture for the pictures.

It was only later when I was in college before I could visit and eat a steak. It was a good steakhouse and I understand is still pretty good. Going to a restaurant you went to as a youngun is rife with problems. It is somewhat akin to going to your old elementary school and realizing how small the halls are, despite how large they were when you were young. It is an optical illusion perpetrated by time and memory.

I would like to go to Charlie's and Farrell's up in Kentucky. Farrell's is a little hamburger stand in Hopkinsville, which is akin to Krystal or White Castle, but only has one store, on Main Street in Hopkinsville. You can visit on youtube, if you want.

I wouldn't mind drinking some bourbon in the Talbot Tavern in Bardstown. I wonder if that restaurant that Cindy and I ate in in Bardstown is still there. They specialized in Kentucky food and had country ham and mushrooms. They had marinated mushrooms as an appetizer. They were delicious.

We also at In Harrodsburg and Pleasant Hill. Both delicious. I am getting hungry. I hope I don't have to drive to Kentucky to eat tonight.

The plays of summer

Today really felt like summer. The Braves played the Phillies. I don't like the Phillies. Never have. I kind of like the Eagles some times. I would like the A's if they were back in Philadelphia. But I don't like the Phillies. Never have. And the Braves beat them again for the third time in a row. And it made eight in a row, I think and they are now 2 1/2 games in first in the East. Above the Phillies. Above the accursed Mets. Above the Marlines. Above the Nationals.

This morning I woke up early and watched a bit of television and saw the Sports anchor excited about the Braves being hot. Hot, like summer.

Then it was hot and sunny this morning until the rains came and covered everything with summer showers. Cool and hot together. Just like Dairy Queen.

Then I turned the television over to ESPN so I could watch a bit of baseball between the Cardinals and the Reds. It was tied. 0-0. And they turned the broadcast over to Detroit to show a young pitcher from Argentina who had a perfect game through seven. And he was working on eight, striking out one, a couple of ground outs. Then the Tigers scored two more runs to make it easier and the pitcher stepped up to the mound in the top of the ninth and let one go and the ball soared toward the centerfield fence and the centerfielder ran it down and caught it like Willie Mays catching the fly off Vic Wertz's bat in 1954. Then they threw the ball back so the pitcher could heave a ball and let the shortstop pick it up and throw it to first base for out number two.

Then the Indians brought the last batter to the plate. A young skinny kid who didn't look like he was going to do anything. And the pitcher threw one for a strike, then a ball low and outside. Then the third pitch was low but the batter hit it toward the gap between the first base man and second and the first baseman back-handed it and the turned and the pitcher and the batter were running toward first when the the ball was thrown by the first baseman to the pitcher who caught it and looked down and stepped on first a good step before the batter and he looked at the first base umpire and the first baseman was jumping up with joy and the arms of the umpire were showing safe and everyone looked with incredulity.

I couldn't believe it. Cindy replayed it slowly to see. It was so clear. The pitcher walked back to the mound and the runner ran unimpeded from first to second to third. And the new batter finally grounded out for the final out.

But there was still one more player who got to come to bat than was necessary. I called Kate. I called Frank. I called Ed. I was amazed.

That one will be shown for years to come. Summer is here.