Times Get Tough, Flap Steps Up
I want to thank everyone who contributed to Stix’s gofundme. If you haven’t yet and you can here’s the link:
It’s currently at $1205 and considering we don’t have a baseball season this is about the best thing I’ve seen happen this year.
We are in unprecedented times. The best way I know to deal with something like this is to be a good person and to stand with your community. “Love harder.” That’s what you can control…..
A Place To Talk About Giants Baseball 
Just stuck something on end of last thread–A’s did reverse their stance on paying their minors guys.
MLBTR story with info from Ken Rosenthal and others from Athletic said there are plans for extended 30 team AZ Fall League this year. This would give all teams a chance to have their prospects in action as opposed to previous set up which was much more limited.
giants will have 7 picks in 5 rounds of draft next week. So it would be great for them and their other prospects to have somewhere to play ball.
In pro baseball in South Korea right now, the stuffed animals in the seats behind home plate is cool and fun, and good marketing.
Of course, MLB wouldn’t do it. MLB is not known for its marketing creativity.
Does anybody here give a shit about Goodall’s 180 degree turn over NFL and protesting now is OK with them? I predict it is another pebble rolling down the hill that will be a landslide against trump’s BS positions. First comes Mattis , then the four Chiefs of the services all saying no troops against protestors.
Drew Brees also seems to have sent a note to trump telling him the protests are not about “the flag”. About time!
We have just had to many years of constant bullshit, enough already. He was a con man 40 years ago and he’s still one today. What amazes me is the blind stupidity of so many people. I guess with most it’s financially motivated, but I believe a lot of his base is just filled with hate and that drives em.
Certainly a lot of them have a lot of anger, too. It’s misguided anger, IMO, but definitely many of them are angry. And I don’t mean anger in an abstract sense; it’s anger in a very real physical sense. I’ve had conversations with some of them about Trump, and their faces get hot red, with blood vessels sticking out. I’ve stopped talking about Trump to hardcore Trump supporters. They get really weird about Trump. The hardcore Trump supporters are a cult, IMO.
It would take psychological therapy for some of those people to work out their anger issues that have built up their whole lives. Every setback and disappointment in their lives over the years comes out in their anger.
zumiee- A lot of that anger is what we have been seeing all week. It’s not just about black people, it’s about everyone that isn’t white.
Yes, Trump emboldens white racists. He encourages them to act on it.
I know people who live in Greenwhich, Conn. He’s a hedge fund guy; she works hard at getting their kids into ivy league schools — Columbia, Harvard, etc. The kids first went to the same famous boarding school that trained the Bushes. (Stix’ll like that.) The parents and three of the four kids avidly support trump.
These people aren’t irrationally angry. They’re on top of the world. They spend a lot of money avoiding setbacks and disappointments. Such things are for lesser human beings to suffer.
Winderrrrr…Will Jung’s law of overloaded coinkydinks never end? Its like I’m on some Magical Mystery Tour ever since being able to log into the Flap once again. Cue August 1974 when deciding to make a little jaunt from Echo Ridge upstate to the Manitoba boarder and cross over. No hassle. No hustle. But they did load me down with maps, brochures and things to do in “The Pag”, hometown of take your pick of Crosby,Stills n’ Nash on his weekly BLUUZ extravaganza on CBC radio, coming to my home loud and clear over CBW-Winnipeg.
So I picked up a hitchhiker, Rick Woodruff outta Pictou County, Nova Scotia and he was headed the next morning for something brand-new. It was a freebie, courtesy of a somewhat social-democratic government of Canada. Ditto Manitoba. They called it the Winnipeg Folk Festival. We cruised around a bit in my ’67 Catalina, found something to eat and exploration of the streets of the city seemed sufficient we took a little stroll down Portage Avenue looking for a bar to snag a coupla beers. One spot, a basement scene, kinda grabbed us and whammo-kazammo we had amusingly and amazingly landed in a stripper spot. Got a table and a pitcher and this fluff was dancing the hoochie-koochie (or whatever it’s called in Canuckistan) and unlike Minnesota at that time, was not wearing a stitch above and beyond, save for this luxurious black plume ensconced in her right hand. Here we are, beer and entertainment. Does it get much better?
Flave’s Gravitar sorta interrupted the next paragraph…This one: Something impelled–compelled–me to glance up over the stage and lo and behave yourself here’s none other than Tricky Dick all teary-eyed and resigning the presidency. OMG. Coinkydinks much? So lil miss lofts the plume upwards to her other attractions, revealing, not concealing the business agency while Nixon weeps up above. Juxtaposition of images was a total classic. Gonna hafta write about that sometime. Ooops.
Next noon or so Rick and I drive off to Bird’s Hill Park, exchanging smiles with the folks at the gate who handed out official programs. Did the best we could to match their smiles. No tent or even sleeping bags and really not much on hand for food or water…to say nothing about beer. Just 29 at that time and hitchhiker even younger. Within the hour people started heading in towards the stage. We joined them. Couple of local warmup bands. Of course. And then it’s COUNTRY JOE AND THE FISH. So smoke that in your pipes and stick it, any reader who believes in simple coincidences and that absolutely nothing is connected at dimensional levels beyond the tentacles of politically correct contemporary scientific acceptability.
Wish I’d managed to hang onto the program. All’s I seem to recall among the other Canadian favorites were Cathy Fink and Duck Donald…and inevitably, Gordon Lightfoot. Got swept away by The Ballad of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Lake Superior is one most powerful lady. Been around both Atlantic and Pacific a bit, but when it comes to a rockbound state of pure power…nothing can match the vibe of Her Majesty, the Big Lake, particularly from Chuck Carson’s log home atop Moose Mountain where I stayed back in my Common-Sense publishing days. For travelers and adventurers the North Shore of Superior is nonpareil. South shore, much milder than wilder, is a kayaker’s paradise out in the Apostle Islands. Also on the Wisconsin side, the sailboating is said to be legendary. Gee, I sure can ramble on. Course at my age there’s such a buildup of stories that it’s long high past time to share…and without baseball maybe the balladeer of B.S. Valley can whomp up an audience. -stix
Stix- Thanks for sharing that adventure for that’s what it truly was. Never been to Canada but after reading your story it sounds like a great place to visit. I have had a long standing relationship with the fish and their music. It’s mostly nostalgic at this point but I still have a warm place in my heart for it.
Forgetful me. Forgot to mention that the WPF is closing in on age 50 now and I have yet to revisit it. Knowing that the Canuckistanis do not allow Yanks in with a Dooee, I can only cringe thinking about their customs folks would have to google-eye at my case. Oh well, what the hell. They cannot strip me of some fine memories. Forget biz was that my best friend through the 70’s, Pat Eliason, met Laura, from a rather well-to-do East Duluth family at the fest. Next year I got invited to their wedding bash out on a tour boat cruising St. Louis Bay on the Big Lake. A fine time was had by all. Couple years later and I visited them in their new home (Pat did most of the work) on a ;piece of land near one of Minnesota’s thousands of lakes, this one being maybe 15 miles west of Hibbing, where Pat was born, Bob Dylan grew up and where for a year or so “Common Sense: A Northwoods Journal” bore the superscription: “Banned in Hibbing.” Another story for another day.
Also need to mention that Don Foster and his soulmate Pat have been regular attendees of the WFF. Just yesterday got a call from them readying to meet their older son Rick and his new wife Kendra for a two day camping trip to Lake Kabetogama, edging into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area and within the perimeters of the Superior National Forest. More stories on camping up there and heading on in to Frostbite Falls and footing it from there upon the Rainy River bridge and encountering ca. 2012 Canuckistan customs. Later date, if inquiries are made.
stix, you got me to thinking. Though I have never been to Canada on land i have been in their waters. Lake Memphremagog is on the border in Vermont. And what a beautiful lake it is. Then I got to thinking about Minnesota. During the 70’s I was living in Reno and for the life of me I can’t pin down how I met her but for about 3 weeks I had the time of my life. She was from Biwabik and was probably the healthiest girl I have ever known. She was a runner(a real runner not a jogger) and i was working the clubs. I haven’t thought of her for years and I want to thank you for getting my mind to think of her. A little later on i did go with my friend to Park Rapids he was from there. We decided to hitchhike instead of the bus, we were in no hurry. And that was an adventure in itself that I haven’t thought about in many years. So what I am trying to say is that your story brought out some of my own that i honestly forgot. Thanks.
someone AWESOME just anonymously donated $162 so we are up to $1367. Woo Hoo!!!!
Pretty trippy on The Golden Gate Bridge 🌉 where recently installed wind slats on the bike path create a humming sound almost angelic and peaceful some describe when the winds are high like the last few days.People have reported hearing the sound from miles away..
Cool photo.
Dirt you and me are always on the same page with these old photos
I like them a lot. A moment, well, a lot more than a moment, of silence.
Awesome photo. Another jewel, Dirt. I never made it to the Polo Geounds location when Balde and I visited in 2016. Next time. Plus I have to go hang-out with Loo, again.
The hitchhiking ethos was so strong back in the 60s and early 70s. If you had a car, you picked up hitchhikers. If you didn’t, you could count on catching rides. I went back and forth across the country a few times, to Alaska and back, and to Panama on the thumb (although second class train and bus seats did cheaply supplement the trips in the tropics). Every ride was an adventure. The best, the apogee, was a simple trip one morning from Great Falls to Cut Bank, in Montana. I’ll write a novel about that someday. But the trip apropos here concerns Bob Dylan, and his dramatic return to the concert stage in 1974, after being silent for so long.
A friend told me he thought he had a line on the early show in Oakland and he definitely had tickets to one of the LA shows, the following week. (His parents lived in LA, down the street from Henry Miller. The great man used to peddle his bicycle past their house every day.) Anyway, a rich kid I never liked had bought up many tickets and was passing them around to people he wanted to impress. He showed up at my place early on the morning of the Oakland show to sell his final ticket. I told him he needed to give me a ride. My friend laughed for years about the idea of the two of us forced to spend an hour and a half together in the rich kid’s Italian roadster, en route to the concert.
Of course, the experience was terrific. And the dope was strong. Afterward, no one dared drive back to Santa Cruz. We were all too loaded. The asswipe convertible kid wanted to sleep in the parking lot and then head to his parents’ place in Pacific Heights or some damn place. I had an old girlfriend who had just begun the UC Berkeley English phd program, but I couldn’t stumble in on her. So I hit the road. A big 60s-vintage caddy stopped. The middle-aged, long-haired driver was alone. Ballad of a Thin Man was playing on the radio. That’s no coincidence, the driver said. He turned on the interior light and I saw that he wore makeup — lipstick, mascara, maybe false eyelashes. Sizable unbridled boobs bounced under his t-shirt. You want to feel one? Uh, no thanks. He laughed and turned off the light. He sped southward and we talked. He was an interesting guy. Married, kids. Worked at a music store. His wife had managed to get an extra ticket to the late Dylan show, so she was stil back there in Oakland, with friends. At one point, as we discussed trans matters, he said: She digs them.
But he was only headed to San Jose. Like any good hitchhiker, I started thinking about my next ride. It suddenly occurred to me that a woman I knew worked weekends as a topless dancer at the Pink Poodle. Old time valley residents will remember that place. I’d never been there, but I knew where it was. My gracious driver dropped me at the door. Great guy. I paid the Pink Poodle cover charge and when a half-dressed waitress brought me a twenty-dollar beer I asked her to get Janice a message. The other men in the place, far as I could see in the dark, all seemed to be frozen as they watched the show. My friend soon came out. She was a sweetheart. Her husband was an old surfing buddy. She had to do a big dance after midnight, but then she’d be heading back to Santa Cruz. So I nursed that twenty-dollar beer. Janice was good, very good. I was impressed. I did not spend my time gazing at the side of her face in the spotlight so clear.
Our drive over the hill was fun. She was so happy to be done with work for the week. Her husband broke out some relaxing medications after we reached SC and then they offered to drive me home or let me crash on the couch. Of course, I declined. I took a long walk down the beach instead, beneath the diamond sky.
I did go to LA to see Dylan and the Band at the Forum some days later. Great shows. They always opened and closed with this:
It’s still there xoot, the building anyway. what is gone is the old Western Appliance.
Watching Mets Red Sox game 6 from 1986 on mlbtv, Scully doing the game.
I went to the pink poodle once back in ’88 I think it was. Wide eyed I was. Great story Xoot.
Nice. The times sure have changed. I think there were some pretty good advanages in growing up in the 60’s/70’s.
Cool story, xoot, and love the Dylan line.
What was the one by Mel’s Bowl in RC? I remember Easy Street in San Mateo
80s mustaches lol. Boggs Keith Hernandez Buckner Dave Henderson Backman yada yada
Catfish Hunter , Dennis Eck, and of course Fingers, a little before the 80’s but he did have the stash
Mitchell (first full season) scored tying run from 3b (wild pitch from Stanley) after 2 out pinch single in 10th, before Mookie’s ground ball to buckner…
All while Keith Hernandez was pounding beers in Davey Johnson’s office after making the second out.
Unca Chuck, thanks for firing there on Stix gofundme
48 regular season games? LOL.
“the owners are now focused on a 48-game regular season, according to Jeff Passan of ESPN.”
it’s stupid. This is all so stupid. Baseball has killed itself. First with the idiotic home runs and strikeouts and shifts and now they can’t even figure out how to field the games. I’m not even that bummed about it. This game is fucking nothing anymore, it’s a total fucking shell of what it once was. I’m disgusted.
The one thing we can hang our hat on: The Giants were the last actual real baseball team to have a world series run.3 in 5 as an actual legit fucking baseball team. it began falling apart in 2016, turned into a joke each year thereafter.
Stix you didn’t miss a fucking thing in terms of the game while you were in the hoosgow. It’s turned into a joke and now literally it’s nothing. It’s gone.
Honestly you know what I like about baseball now? Playing daily fantasy. The bombs do make that fun. But the game itself? Just sitting around on a lazy Sunday afternoon taking in a game? Fucking gone. It’s ruined and has been for a few years.
Well, I’m not as bleak as that about the state of Major League Baseball, but this season should be scrapped, IMO. Look to get things together for 2021.
I wish they’d scrap the juiced ball. Turning baseball into HR derby was a bad idea.
Install the pitch clock.
Use electronics for balls and strikes calls.
I used to be firmly against rules for the shifts, but my resistance to that has weakened.
“At least five University of Alabama football players have tested positive for the coronavirus since returning to campus one week before voluntary training commences.
The five players were reportedly gathered on the band field Wednesday in a group of around 50 players, making anyone who came in contact with the infected individuals vulnerable to contracting the virus.”
“Tim Kurkjian, during a recent appearance on ESPN’s Baseball Tonight Podcast with Buster Olney, said that the latest on negotiations makes him “believe more than ever” that MLB games will not be played in 2020.
“I was actually mildly optimistic earlier this week when I recognized that Major League Baseball is determined to play a season of some kind and that Rob Manfred, one way or another, would figure out a way for this to happen, because he understands the dangers and the damage when you don’t play a season or miss a significant portion,” Kurkjian said. “I actually thought things were going to move in the right direction, they were going to talk the players into playing fewer games, get the full prorated, play a full postseason, and be done before a next virus comes. I was actually mildly optimistic five days ago, and now that has all changed for me.”
The owners don’t want a lot of regular season games without fans in the stands. They say they’ll lose too much money. But when the players ask to see the owners’ spreadsheets and accounting books, the owners say “Take a hike.”
Unca,
I use to go to Easy Street in San Mateo a lot along with Club Ante for a few bachelor parties.
But the stripper place I went to the most the one you couldn’t remember across from Mels bowl called the Hanky Panky Club still going strong I believe..I would go In they’re after bowling in my league with some of my teammates.The prices were ugly like the woman with zits on they’re asses!!😩
My love for baseball and for the Giants was strong, but it got a new jolt as I taught the game to my sons. Every detail became important. When we watched Giants games, they studied as much as cheered. My younger son on his own squared around to bunt a pitch from me when he was three. Some of the Oakland kids he played with on his AS and traveling teams had big promise. I see my favorite, Andre Nnebe, didn’t get drafted until the 28th round. I heard that he suffered some sort of injury in college. I hope he’ll take off. He was good. Of course, that’s all low-level kid stuff. But the pros, the best, do exactly the same things, just brilliantly. I’ll always be ready to watch that. (I could do without the stuffed animals in the pandemic seats, however.)
Flav – thanks for continuing to post the link to the GoFundMe page for Stix.Amazing work Flap Universe. The generosity is amazing.
Hanky panky! That’s it AK. Still there? Wow. Yeah we went there a couple times after a few frames and a lot of beers. Those were some tired strippers.
Easy st had the little round window you could look thru. As a kid it was such a tease. It closed before I was able to go dammit.
Easy street had like river rock on the wall as you went downstairs to the bar/tables and stage.It really was a classy place compared to Hanky Panky with of course an upgrade in women!!
And yeah, Chuck and Flav, thanks for the GoFundMe for Stix and the general awesomeness of this place.
Party on