a police car and a screaming siren pneumatic drill and ripped up concrete a baby wailing, stray dog howling the screech of brakes and lamplight blinking that's entertainment, that's entertainment a smash of glass and the rumble of boots an electric train and a ripped up phone booth paint splattered walls and the cry of a tomcat lights going out and a kick in the balls i say that's entertainment, that's entertainment days of speed and slow time mondays pissing down with rain on boring wednesdays watching the news and not eating your tea a freezing cold flat and damp on the walls i say that's entertainment, that's entertainment waking up at 6am on a cool morning opening the windows and breathing in petrol an amateur band rehearsing in a nearby yard watching the telly and thinking about your holidays that's entertainment, that's entertainment waking up from bad dreams and smoking cigarettes cuddling a warm girl and smelling stale perfume a hot summer's day and sticky black tarmac feeding ducks in the park and wishing you were far away that's entertainment, that's entertainment two lovers kissing amongst the scream of midnight two lovers missing the tranquility of solitude getting a cab and travelling on buses reading the grafitti about slashed seat affairs i say that's entertainment, that's entertainment

We had our first practice for our fledgling Stanford intramural softball team yesterday. I ran out between my afternoon meetings to Big 5 to buy a new glove. I knew something was amiss when during warmups, consisting solely of playing catch, i was getting seriously winded. Luckily my catching abilities had survived from my childhood, and after a few errant test tries my throws stabilized as well. My gym buddy and taskmaster Fred ran some fielding drills, during which i found i significantly misjudge fly balls these days. I was doing okay at shortstop though. The afternoon wore on and i decided to head home to feed Tara. Fred wanted me to get in some batting, which to be honest was the least of my worries getting back into softball. I agreed to hit a few, so i took a bat and stood at the plate to receive a few lazy underhand pitches. Pitch one .... *whiff*! Hmm, what happened there? Dunno. Must've been daydreaming. Pitch two ... *whiff*! What the hell is going on? And on and on. Somehow in the ten years since i last swung a bat i've completely lost my hitting skills. A few comments from ad hoc coaches Fred and Julie improved matters a bit ... i wasn't following the ball with my head, and was moving my feet as i swung. I got in a few good line drives before heading home. But that didn't remove that pathetic feeling that ... gasp ... i've lost it! Where were the towering drives i used to hit when i was 12? I guess that was almost twenty years ago. What do you GET rather than LOSE as you get older? Knowledge? What a crock.