Nothing To Say, and No Time To Say It

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2003-10-22 - 6:16 a.m.

HBTP

Once upon a time I got a computer.

Then a friend told me about an incredible, magical place called The Internet. She told me about a service called AOL.

My world opened up.

I was a young mom going through a world of adjustment. My baby girl was almost a year old and I had just made the biggest move of my 24 year old life�away from the only home and family and friends and town I�d ever known.

I had a new job.

I had a new house.

I started writing poetry.

I found a bulletin board on AOL just for poets. I lurked, cuz my shit stank. I never posted anything of my own.

Cuz did I mention�.my shit stank?

There was this one poet who went by the name of Gaucho Tony. His stuff floored me. It was fucking amazing and he became my hero and everything I wanted to be as a writer.

He was also everything I wanted to run back to; single-dom, rocking for the sake of rocking, freedom, coolness, kisses with strangers, freedom, independence, friends as sustenance.

He represented everything I had just traded in. In my days as a young, struggling, working mom with a stressful job, long commute, and no support system, save my husband, his lifestyle was what I wished I could run back to�at times.

Many moons later, I got up enough guts to post a poem. You don�t even know how hard that was for me; �for if someone tore it down, they tore all that was me down. That was my greatest fear. Baring my soul and having someone barf on it.

You know what happened?

My hero, my idol, my everything I wished I could be, made the following comment to my first-ever shared piece of my soul:

�you rocked them.

If you have any more please post them or email em to me, theyre great!

Tony�

I know he wrote this, because I was so floored I printed it out and saved it: June 5th, 1995. (Yes..I�m a loser.)

This small gesture made me feel about as indestructible as Superman.

An email friendship ensued for a time then eventually disappeared until sometime last year when I came across the poems he had sent me and his poems that I had printed out and I Googled his name and found the busblog.

And today is his 110th birthday.

And I just wanted to let him know that even though I have never met him, he has inspired me in so many ways�.the way he puts himself out there day after day, no matter what, and even though�

He writes fearlessly. Something I have yet to accomplish. This impresses me beyond belief.

He writes brilliantly�and even when he claims he has nothing to say it magically becomes something as soon as his fingers hit the keys and the letters hit the monitor.

And here�s one of his poems, published back in 1994 that makes me smile at the little baseball boy part of him.

�two flyouts a walk and I stole second�

when I was a little boy

in the summer my friends would pound pound pound on the door

early

and wake me up. We�d gather more boys and

we�d make it to the sod farm and we�d play

baseball there

im not kidding when I say wed play all day.

I don�t remember eating

On those days id get a lot of hits

I was a spectacular fielder but id get lots and lots of hits

As I grew up the kids got bigger and learned how to throw

Curveballs

A curveball works because it looks like its gonna bash you

Right in the face

But then sneaks across the plate while youre ducking for cover

My parents split up when I was a little boy

My dad never got to see my play out there

He lived many many states away

One summer he was near that ocean

Another summer he was near that other ocean

But when I was a sophomore in highschool I was on the team

And he flew out to see me

Hes the one ive always loved

And the reason ive loved baseball

One summer we played catch on the beach

Maybe for about fifteen minutes

But I�ll never forget that

So on the day he finally got to see my play for real

I had on our schools cool pinstripe uniform

I was the starting shortstop

And I batted lead off

I had four shots to get a hit

But that day I didn�t get any

I tried extra hard of course

And he just came to see me out there.

But don�t worry

One day I�ll smack a great one for him,

You�ll see

Thank you Sonny I. LaVista�Tony�for giving me hope and a belief in myself when I was struggling with all of those things so many years ago... The kind words and support of my writing did more for me then you will ever know.

And happy birthday Tony Pierce�you are greatness. I�m proud of you.

4 That's so headgear...

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Axis: Bold As Love - July 01, 2004
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