The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

The Cool Hall of Fame #6

Joe DiMaggio

1 comment :

Rob said...

Hanging around the Pink Pony during spring training in Scottsdale in the '60s, we saw him a coupla times up close and personal, and he was almost majesterial. He was one ballplayer we recognized without a uniform and cap on, and what a snappy dresser! Hard for kid like me to dare ask him anything, so my old man had to take my Little League bat over to have him autograph it. Little did I know how rare this occurence was. Joe was very serious when he told my bro and me to take care of it, but we figured it was now a lucky bat, so we hit a few dingers with it over the next season or two, and it always traveled in my bat bag, marks and all. Needless to say, it has a hallowed place in my home, now. God had breathed on it.