By Larry Baum

I like a heavy polo shirt that fits and has a cool descriptive logo. For a T-shirt to fit me the way I like, it’s got to be several degrees into the “Xs” so don’t go buying me no “Large” and thinking that’s going to work.  No way, sorry.
I stop and get clearance polo’s at times from different stores, the shirts may be decent but the logo’s are all over the place and I often don’t know where in the world they come from. When I wear them, I pretend I know where the places are that are pictured on my shirt. You know I’m only joking, don’t you?
I have an “Illinois at the Rose Bowl in 2008” shirt that gets plenty of jeers and some measure of respect that I would stand up for a team that had experienced such a big loss. What the hey, they were there and that wasn’t a bad thing and that shirt fits me perfectly.  Unfortunately it’ll last about 10 washings, then to the cleaning rack it goes. You know I’m only joking, because I might wear it until it melts.
I’d like a shirt with Willie Mays making his great over the shoulder catch in ’54. Or, maybe an image of a prospector full of hope as his ship is about to come in, either panning for gold or a releasing an oil geyser. Or me, pumping iron. Nice.
It is a world of people that we live in; no Twilight Zone head in the sand tactic will suffice. You have to navigate through the walls of communication issues and feelings and sometimes faulty linkages that bind everyone together. I’ve seen individuals who have no concern whatsoever about what others think of them. I have not mastered that Tantra art. I think it’s really how you feel about yourself that is the key issue anyway.
Now, back to our joy’s: I love the new Jazz diet Pepsi Caramel soft drink, amazingly good. It’s the only pop I drink, unless I can’t find it. I have three 12 packs in my office waiting for eventual consumption. Now that’s dedication.
I also love new quarters and PT Cruisers and 20” computer screens and uni-ball pens, broad tip, black. I used to love White Castle’s, OK, I admit it, still do.
When I was 10, my friends and I used to simulate the Olympic games with our own suburban competition. This was the late ’50’s/early ’60s. There were 7 of us in our New York City Long Island wonderland with only a quarter of the houses built. We’d compete with short races, medium races, long races, broad jumps, high jump (my favorite), javelin throws (doctored up broomsticks) and baseball throws. We also did teams and relays with baton passing.
We’d have great fun doing all this during the summer months. Of course we kept records and timed everything, but those records are long gone and just the memories remain.
When we went indoors. We’d escape into ping pong games and competition. It was hardly the Chinese mainland against Taiwan as we could only accomplish a little top and back spin and that was about it. The serve was always fun to do, dramatic gestures, and then low and hard deliveries trying for a curve. Every time I hold a ping pong racket (do you hold it American or Chinese style?) I think back to Richard’s basement.
I got hit in the head in Little League several times and that might explain a lot. I could not seem to get myself out of the path of that speeding bullet. I hit a home run or two and struck out a lot but mostly feeble grounders.  My team was Bradley’s — bright green hats — and they were the corner drug store. Mr. Bradley always wore his smock with his name on it and dispensed drugs to the patrons and was very friendly. I was pleased to be on his team but I would have preferred Rudy’s, the next door delicatessen, who had the best potato salad and cole slaw in the world. They are still the best with their unique kind of German potato salad.
When I was in college, I started to draw with markers and I enjoyed that and have many inane, crazy drawings stashed away attesting to that time. I got to where I could do a likeness of someone, but eventually I lost interest in this activity.
At a Halloween party at the Altman’s I was bobbing for apples, that was fun and wet.  At other parties, later, we played spin the bottle and post office, and this was fun and wet (the kisses). These were coming of age games, and yes, the parties got progressively more adventurous and we looked forward to them.
These were days before responsibilities set in. Fun and laughter of a different era and I am in awe thinking back to it.

Larry Baum will take a hiatus from his column. Although his home base is in Delphos, he will be spending the next several months in California.