My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty
nights -- or very early mornings -- when I left the Fillmore half-crazy and,
instead of going home, aimed the big 650 Lightning across the Bay Bridge at
a hundred miles an hour ... booming through the Treasure Island tunnel at
the lights of Oakland and Berkeley and Richmond, not quite sure which
turnoff to take when I got to the other end ... but being absolutely certain
that no matter which way I went I would come to a place where people were
just as high and wild as I was: no doubt at all about that.
-- Hunter S. Thompson
In high school in Brooklyn
I was the baseball manage
proud as I could be
I chased baseballs,
gathered thrown bats
handed out the towels Eventually, I bought my own
It was very important work but it was dark blue while
for a small spastic kid, the official ones were green
but I was a team member Nobody ever said anything
When the team got to me about my blue jacke...