Mood:
crushed outTopic: "Radio and TV"(7)
The average is that on fifty-three occasions annually, the temperature at the Airport in Atlanta wil exceed ninety degrees. On an evening such as this, there are only two things that meet the justifiable criteria of life in the Deep South. The first is listening to the gallant Braves on the radio, this evening brought to you from the "June swoon" in San Diego, where the temperature is somehere below seventy. The magic of the Internet, and the visual perspective of God's truly great game, fall short of the breathless expressions of Don Sutton and Joe Simpson, as they create an audio wonderland for those with an imagination, and a true love for a game that separates generations with its' history. The alternative activity is to sip some bourbon, over ice, as one reacquaints onesself wth the "Pirate Latitudes" of Michael Crichton or "Ford County" as penned by John Grisham.
To read, or to listen to the radio. One might believe that Frodo has rejected the scientific marvels of the twenty-first century and has placed his faith in "apps" that were there when he was borne, and one might not be far from the truth. Despite his adherence to speed and quality in business, when it comes to leisure, Frodo still likes to "sit and thinks." Combining these activities slows life down even more, and that is what appeals most to the Hobbit these days. It taskes no great mind to note that the passage of days exceeds the prospect for those to come.
Through the window, from the back porch, Frodo can watch the dance of the magicians as they torment the hearts of our fellow citizens. When the picture changes to those who service our motorcars, primed is the Hobbit to flash through a page or two in consideration of legal misfortune in Mississippi. All of this, and two faithful dogs kicking as they chase rabbits of a bygone era. These are, despite what others may say, words that never leave the heart of the Hobbit, "the good old days."
