HARTLAND'S WERE AWESOME

Back in the 50's and early 60's a company called Hartlands created toy statues that were amazing in detail. This one of Tonto and his horse (did he have a name?) is a good example. They also made several different baseball and football statues.

I don't remember them being sold at the ballparks or in the stores, though I think I had a big Hartland horse that I played with a lot. My parents must have found it somewhere, and it logged plenty of play time. Buddy Bill Shaw remembered a little guy in a station wagon that set up and sold out of the back of the wagon before Cardinal games at old Sportsman's Park. He had several: Musial, Aaron, Matthews, Mantle, and Clemente that I remember. In fact I bought a Musial from him just before he opened his baseball card shop in MTV.

Then in the 90's someone remade from the original plastic molds, I believe some more of them. I added a Dizzy Dean, Mantle, and Maris. The attention to detail was far superior to today's bobbleheads (except for a Brandon Webb stadium giveaway I picked up this year), Starting Line Ups, or the Kondritz statues of later years.

The McFarlane statues are pretty good, but I still have an affinity for the Hartlands. Trouble is, they sure cost a lot more now than the $3-5 dollars, Bill paid for them from the guy in the station wagon.

IF YOU'VE SEEN ME IN A HAT OR CAP, YOU'VE KNOWN ME FOR A LONG TIME

The last hat I remember wearing was a cowboy hat in Washington, D.C. The year 1981. Before that it may have gone back to intramural fast pitch softball at ISU in 1968. Why? I don't have the head or face or dignity or grace to wear one.

Not even a golf visor. In Arizona. In the Summer. But I do wear sunglasses.

I like to watch the old movie reels of the fans at professional baseball games. They dressed up to go to the games. Men in suits, hats, ties cheering on their team. People used to dress up before they went on an airplane. Of course, people used to get dressed up for church, too.

But this entry's about hats. Why did they go out of fashion? My dad always wore a hat. Guys today that are dads usually wear them to cover bald heads or bed heads. But back then, men were men and never in history did they think of wearing their hat backwards. They also didn't show the tops (or more) of their underwear. They sure didn't have their pants look as if they were falling off.

So I guess as time and fashion changes, so should I. Being an old catcher, wearing the cap backwards should be no problem. Sometimes my pants need hitched up, so if I can just remember to let them hang there, I'll be hip. I think my underwear kinda falls down from where they start in the morning, so that will be a little harder to reveal. But I'm afraid now I've provided faithful reader(s) with too much information.

WHERE PRAYERS ARE NOT ANSWERED

Well, this a story about golf. It's true. It happened in the 70's. To me. And it involves death.

But first, friend Virgil sent me an e-mail yesterday with a Rev. Billy Graham quote. He said,"The golf course is the only place I never experienced answered prayer." My story is about answered prayer. Perhaps.

Indian Hills in MTV is where I grew up playing golf. I say grew up, but I was 20 years old before I ever played a round. At Homestead in MTV. But most of my golf for 12 years was played at the Hills.

There seemed to be a very stubborn mole on the tee box of number 2. He had done damage other places, but this day he was on 2 just outside the mole trap that was set to the right of the tee box. Playing with my buddy Bob Noel, I had an 8 iron in hand due to a western wind in my face on a short par 3. While waiting to it, I saw movement directly in line with the tee markers.

Armed with my eight iron, I hit down hard into the ground. I flipped my club over and lifted some turf. Sure enough, the result was one dead mole. I left him there for all to see. I announced to Mr. Noel, "Look, a mole in one." I don't remember my tee shot after that, but it didn't go in the hole. Probably not even on the green.

There were no plaques, no bronzed club, no marker to indicate the spot, the date, the athletic achievement. In fact, that same club spent a Winter in the brush off the rough on Number 12 after a chili dipped shot on Number 11 a few years later. But that's for another entry, another time.

WHAT IS IT ABOUT SONGS STUCK IN OUR HEADS, AND HOW THE HECK DO WE GET THEM OUT?

When you saw the picture above, I'm certain that "Rubber Ducky" came to mind. Hopefully not in Kermit's voice, but you heard it. It may take you the rest of the day to get that tune out of your head. So, don't blame me--I could have put up a picture of "It's a Small World;" now that is annoying.

But it doesn't just have to be an annoying song. Ok, I'll try one more, just by title. "Macarena". Was there ever a song that grated you anymore than that one? And some people loved it. I think they had endulged themselves in John Barleycorn, but some seemed to enjoy it.

For me, lately it's been Bobby Darin's "Mack the Knife," one of my all-time favorites. I even went to Google to hear a little audio and also to find the lyrics. Even with explanation, I don't think I understand all the ins and outs of the song, but I still like it a lot. I just wish I could get it out of my head. "Yes, I think I'm going out of my head, over you." See what I mean?

I love praise songs and hymns sung every Sunday at church. Usually I carry one of those songs in my head for a couple of days, despite the fact that 3 of my 6 FM channels are tuned to Christian music stations and I find myself not moving much from KLOV as I stated in another blog. But still the music with Pastor Russ at SBC rules and wins out over the radio. "And all God's children singing,"glory, glory to His name.."

So how do you clear the mind? How do you push out songs that you love or hate? I usually just start another one to break the hold. "Up on the Roof" worked for me today. Now, don't dwell on it, or you'll have to substitute another. Just hope I don't end on a tune that you can't break away from for awhile. Like something from the 70's--how about "Stayin' Alive"?

INTO EACH LIFE...

So I guess the tables are turned. The St. Louis Cardinals are dead in the water and the Chicago Cubs are NL Central champs heading to the playoffs. Cubs and October baseball just don't seem to go together, so maybe, hopefully their stay won't last long. I probably should stop this entry with a quote from Izzy, Cardinal ace closer,"I've had enough of this season, and this season has had enough of me." But never being one who knows when to shut up (write up?), I'll continue.

I don't know why I should feel so bad about the Cardinals' season coming to an abrupt end, except they usually play well into October. It can be cold in St. Louis that time of year, especially at night. But for the Cubs and their fans, well that wind could be pretty chilly, so bundle up. Don't forget to take your gloves. They won't make much noise when you clap them together, but I don't imagine you'll be doing much of that after the introduction of players.

Let's see. The last time (I know you think I'm going to throw out the years 1945 and 1908) you made the playoffs you earned it. You didn't buy it like this year. But, hey, in 2003, that nearly $400 million you spent this year would have gone further. One more piece of advice: don't sell tickets to anyone named Steve or Bartman. Just to be on the safe side.

Now, as far as the Cardinals go, I'll miss baseball. Oh, I'll still watch; afterall, my second favorite team, the DBax are NL West champs, and they'll take on the Cubs in the first series. I have no tickets for that series, but I should have a couple of seats for the next round, hopefully against my daughter's Padres. But I figure it'll be the Phillies vs. the Diamondbacks.

But as crazy as this season has been, who knows? Actually, I think my second favorite team is whoever is playing against the Cubs.

Anyway(s), I'll miss the Cardinals in the post-season. How many days till March 31?

DON'T BURN THE POPCORN

Is there any better snack? I don't know if my young adults (well, I can't call them kids any more) eat popcorn for breakfast, but it's good for me most any other time of the day. The only reason I included my offspring (that sounds even worse) is that both of them will eat cold pizza for breakfast, and that damages me. And, surprisingly neither drinks coffee. But I don't know how morning popcorn would be.

My favorite is theatre popcorn. Even if it costs five dollars a box, "and for 50 cents more, we can give you a large soft drink." My second favorite is Strothmann Field popcorn. Through twelve years of watching those morning pizza eaters play baseball or softball there, I was a loyal customer at the concession stand. My next favorite is Act II 100 calorie pack, 94% butter free. Actually, I'd prefer 100% buttery, but my waistline dictates otherwise.

But what about microwaved, burned popcorn? Is there any worse smell on the planet? I mean really burned? Last week I burned turkey bacon (is that an oxymoron?) badly in the microwave.

As I was sitting at the computer, I noticed a golf ball in my front yard. An errant shot from the 6th tee box that flew over my neighbor's house, hit the street and jumped into my yard. Maybe a Pro-V, I thought as I went to the kitchen to cook my bacon. While I hit the timer for 61 seconds, I must have hung around too long on the 1 and wound up skorching the bacon, which cooked for 6 minutes and 11 seconds. I didn't know that because I was retrieving the wickedly sliced golf ball--no Pro-V, but a new Top Flight.

Was there ever darker turkey bacon? And the smell. No matter what we did, that smell inhabited the house with us for nearly a week. But you know what? It could have been worse. It could have been popcorn.