Dick is taslking about picking up his baseball bats.

Frankly, I cannot but agree, as I’ve said before.

When I was but a cub, I was repairing a machine for a specific manufacturer in Corona California
While there, I tried to weasel my way into a custom Strat, but htebest I could do was a case for a Jaguar. I kept it in the car for the longest time.
I used to have an girlfriend who played baseball, and when she left, she left an Easton aluminum baseball bat in my car. It fit in the case, so I left it there.

One day, bored senseless, i drilled a hole in the end of the bat and put in six pounds of #8 birdshot. By itself this would have bent the bat, but I also put in a milton fitting and 60 psi of air.

Now, for all intents and purposes, I have a dead-blow bat. For those unfamiliar with the concept, a dead blow hammer has a hollow inside with a load of loose shot, and when you hit something, the shot comes after the initial blow and adds an additional, final impact. A dead blow hammer, for instance, nevr bounces, no matter how hard you hit.

Now my baseball bat never saw any use, but somedays I take it out of it’s case, and slap it against my hand, the zzzing zzzing of the shot sliding aroud inside, comforting and resolute. Maybe I can have a party with Dick, and we can find some fols burning flags.