Friend Mike's blog recently referred to the monologue from "Bull Durham" (yes, the monologue), which, for those who don't remember, goes like:
"Well, I believe in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman's back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days."
It leads me to ask: What exactly do I believe in? Or rather, what would I say I believe in if I was trying to bed Susan Sarandon in the movie "Bull Durham." Well...
I believe in all-night diners and dive bars. I believe in coffee, and smoking cigarettes late at night while driving. I believe that country music is crap, and that God Bless America should be banned from all sporting events. I believe in subways, and walking places, just to see where you're going, just to feel the moving. I believe everyone enjoys a good poop. I believe in small, scribbled liner notes, and 'zines, and anything written by David Sedaris. I believe that Wal-Mart Supercenters steal a little bit of your soul every time you walk inside. And I believe the best of us wander through life like lost souls, occasionally rising up to do something great, then settling back to nowhere.
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