Drunk Enough to Be Honest

Not too long ago I was walking down the memory lane of glory days on a phone call with a failure in a trailer who in his current unstable incarnation barely resembled the best of my childhood pals which indeed he once was as I was his.

He was a great third basemen in those glory days, clearly the strength of our infield. As the former star described the rest of his supporting infield I was a little worried how he would describe the second baseman who was also I.

And he was drunk enough to be honest.

"And Ice at second....you didn't have a lot of range but we knew that anything you could get to, you'd gobble up and make a good throw to the right base no matter the situation. We could depend on that"

And thus, during a drunken midnight call from a trailer in a swamp just a lonesome higway away from heartbreak hotel in palookaville, I got about as good a description of my life as I could have gotten from a room full of obscure, sober biographers, educated shrinks or beatified  clergy.

The scorecard of my life and art has proven that I indeed have very limited range but within that area if something is hit to me I will gobble it up and make the right throw. God only knows what's gonna be hit into my range over the next four months but when something comes in I'm gonna grab it and throw it back to ya.

The reason I didn't have a lot of range back in the day was because I didn't want to make any errors.

I have more range today

I'm home on the range, playing with deer and antelope.

After all, it's only physical