permanence

you know, when i started my career of being god's gift to humanity back in 1986, i was young and inexperienced. there was much i didn't understand. for example, i didn't even realize that just because i couldn't see something, didn't mean it wasn't there. i mean, i could have watched someone put a pen in their pocket and i would have believed that it no longer existed. boy was i silly.

now that i'm older and wiser, i'm older. and wiser. good ol' object constancy.

but seriously, does the light really go off when you shut the refrigerator door?

honda civic

i'm under a fair amount of stress. crunching stuff in the last few minutes of my days and the first few minutes of my days. then crunching irresponsibility into little pockets throughout the day.

i've forgotten.

luckily for you and me, i remembered.

we're just subtly more civilized animals

yesterday i found a bull snake. it was a big one too. it startled me a little bit at first too, having similar markings to a rattle snake. he must have been fast asleep when we found him because he was acting really docile and slow to respond.

i picked him up behind the head, posed for a picture, and put him in a bucket until we were done with our chore. then we dumped him out behind the barn in the weeds and stood around him for a little bit.

he lasted about five or ten minutes before he started getting real pissed at us. the dog started getting pissed too at that point.

then we took the dog and walked away.

lord

please help me to live

a life that is willing to give

part 5

at last i got the signal. i wound up and let it fly in the general direction of the catcher/hitter. the ball flew wildly and out of control… directly into the dirt about four feet in front of the plate and about two feet wide. my coach was livid, and i turned and jogged back to my all-too-familiar spot in center field.

the end

part 3.5

they used to make fun of how i pitched. it was kind of like watching a real pitcher pitch in slow-motion with random speed changes, occasionally hitting the pause button for split seconds. when i finally did let go of the ball, it wasn't moving all that fast either. it wasn't that i couldn't throw harder, i just liked to stay in control. i remember practicing with the other pitchers and i could put that ball wherever i wanted. right down the middle, low and inside, high and inside, outside, wherever i wanted, i could throw.

part 4

finally i found myself on the mound, in control. i looked at the ball for a moment and realized i held more than a baseball in my hand. i held the destiny of this game, perhaps even my career as a pitcher, in the palm of my hand. for the moment, i held fate in my control. the catcher gave me the signal for a fastball. "no." i thought, "boring." i shook my head. curveball. "no." i thought, "still boring." i shook my head again. the catcher dropped both of his hands in confusion and just looked at me. i stared back with determination. there was only one way this scene would work, and a fastball and a curveball were not the way. i needed to be a hero. i decided right then and there to go for the gusto. i would shake off every sign the catcher gave me until he gave me the craziest pitch i knew how to throw. it was some kind of sidearm/slider thing that i had some limited success with in practice before and one of the coaches commenting on how great of a pitch that was. however, by the time i had shaken my head four or five times i heard the coaches yelling at me from the dugout, "what are you doing?!", "just throw the ball!!"

part 3

suddenly it occurred to me out there in center field: what my team needed right then was me. i was standing out there thinking all this stuff and meanwhile, the pitcher was throwing horrible pitch after horrible pitch. i had seen enough. i began to call out to my coaches, "put me in coach! i can do it!" i saw them look out at me and i could see them talking to each other, but i couldn't make out what they were saying. nothing happened. i waited. called out again, "i know i can, coach!" finally they called me in, "go warm up graybill." so that's what i tried to do. i was too excited though. i could already picture how this scene would be shot, just like a scene from "angels in the outfield", and how it would end up. with me on the shoulders of the cheering team.

part 2

i recalled the one game they let me pitch. the glory day. we were playing against a team that was pretty good. a worthy opponent. i had just focused on pitching and let the team worry about the rest of the game, and we won. i think i might even still have that “game ball” somewhere, with the team names and the score written neatly in my mother's handwriting in black between the bright red laces. i had never pitched since then, and i never understood why. i thought i did a pretty great job. i even had a few strike-outs. and it wasn't like i was an invaluable outfielder or anything either (although i did often imagine i would be the next ken griffey junior).

part 1

i crouched out in center field. if i had been a fan of the other team, i would have been pretty excited to get to watch them win so effortlessly that day. but i wasn't a fan of the other team. not even close. i had been standing there way too long. hardly moving because batter after batter was being walked and walked. runs were being walked in one after another. their lead became more and more insurmountable with every score. it felt a little like driving in reverse down the highway and watching the distance from your destination get farther and farther and farther away. our pitcher was… having a bad day. he couldn't seem to throw a strike for anything. other than my stash of sunflower seeds in my pocket slowly disappearing, nothing was happening out there in center field any time soon, so i let my mind wander.