There were so many people in the clubhouse that they had to put two Porta Potties near the restaurant and bar. Hundreds were there for a golf tournament, including Rock, who stood in line for one of the toilets.
As soon as he stepped up and into it, Rock noticed that he was exposed to people in the pro shop. A gap in the back of the plastic shell of the toilet required him to leave the seat raised and step to one side to keep from displaying himself to passersby.
Rock stepped out and told the woman in line behind him what what he had just experienced. "You might want to consider something else," he said.
"Yes," she said. "I believe I will."
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Church repairs
Their goal from the start was to finish construction of Rock's pulpit just before he got up from a night's sleep to preach, and they reached it. Rock was amazed. The moment he woke up, workers and handymen were leaving his back bedroom and the new stage and pulpit they had spent the night building. They had also built a huge gymnasium in his backyard.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Seafood
Rock was near the buffet in an all-you-can-eat seafood pavilion on the Riverfront Pier, the latest edition to Little Rock's River Market district, when he saw Steve Sullivan, the lead sports anchor for a local television station. He had known Sullivan for twenty-five years, since a story he wrote about him appeared in the local paper.
They smiled, shook hands, spoke the required greetings, and went about loading their plates. Rock had loved shell fish throughout his life and was therefore captivated by the piles of crab, lobster, oysters, and shrimp in the buffet's large shiny food wells. He reached for a handful of crab claws, cracked one, and was stunned to see literally gallons of hot, murky liquid practically gush from it across the buffet and floor.
But Rock's initial surprise was far surpassed when Sullivan dropped to the floor and began vomiting the same sort of liquid. He threw up vigorously at first, for fifteen seconds or so, but the volume decreased incrementally until, after about a minute, he seemed recovered from all but stark embarrassment.
Rock reached for an arm as Sullivan began to rise.
"Oh, god, that was awful," Sullivan said. "I really put on a show, didn't I?"
"Steve, man, don't worry about it," Rock said. "Heck, that's happened to all of us."
They smiled, shook hands, spoke the required greetings, and went about loading their plates. Rock had loved shell fish throughout his life and was therefore captivated by the piles of crab, lobster, oysters, and shrimp in the buffet's large shiny food wells. He reached for a handful of crab claws, cracked one, and was stunned to see literally gallons of hot, murky liquid practically gush from it across the buffet and floor.
But Rock's initial surprise was far surpassed when Sullivan dropped to the floor and began vomiting the same sort of liquid. He threw up vigorously at first, for fifteen seconds or so, but the volume decreased incrementally until, after about a minute, he seemed recovered from all but stark embarrassment.
Rock reached for an arm as Sullivan began to rise.
"Oh, god, that was awful," Sullivan said. "I really put on a show, didn't I?"
"Steve, man, don't worry about it," Rock said. "Heck, that's happened to all of us."
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Odds
It seemed to Rock as if it would be a simple matter to find Kentucky Derby odds on his watch. He clicked through all of its functions and could find nothing. The race was a week away, or maybe two. No. A week. It was well past daybreak before he remembered that post positions had not yet been drawn.
Susie
Susie was the only one there. Rock expected to see a crowd of Little Rock Hashers when he walked into this Pizza Hut way out in southwest Little Rock, but he had not imagined Susie would be part of it. After all, she moved away to North Carolina with her new girlfriend nearly a year ago. Rock hadn't seen her in six months, and here she was, alone at a fucking Pizza Hut Rock didn't know existed until he saw on Facebook that it was where the Hashers planned to meet.
He was surprised but also pleased. "Susie, wow, where did you come from?"
"Hey, Rock." She stood for a mandatory hug. "How are you, man?"
Susie declared she was lesbian when she was seventeen, twenty years earlier, and on the evening of her eighteenth birthday, moved from Elaine's house to her first girlfriend's apartment. Within three or four years, Susie, seemingly by choice, became fat. Occasionally she would train rigorously and lose enough weight to complete an ultra-distance race, ranging from fifty kilometers to one-hundred miles, but even then was chunky at best. A friend of Rock's said she was built like a torpedo. Rock said she looked like an NFL lineman.
But not tonight. Susie had lost at least fifty pounds since Rock last saw her. He noticed the change in her face before she rose for the hug and then felt it with his hands.
"Susie, you look great," Rock said.
"Thanks, Rock, so do you. Are you ready to get it on?"
"Do what?"
She was suddenly the teenager who proposed to Rock one night when she and her parents met him by accident in a North Little Rock Wendy's.
"You heard me." Susie stood from the table and zipped up her weather-resistant running jacket. "Let's get out of here before anyone else shows up. Are your sheets clean?"
He was surprised but also pleased. "Susie, wow, where did you come from?"
"Hey, Rock." She stood for a mandatory hug. "How are you, man?"
Susie declared she was lesbian when she was seventeen, twenty years earlier, and on the evening of her eighteenth birthday, moved from Elaine's house to her first girlfriend's apartment. Within three or four years, Susie, seemingly by choice, became fat. Occasionally she would train rigorously and lose enough weight to complete an ultra-distance race, ranging from fifty kilometers to one-hundred miles, but even then was chunky at best. A friend of Rock's said she was built like a torpedo. Rock said she looked like an NFL lineman.
But not tonight. Susie had lost at least fifty pounds since Rock last saw her. He noticed the change in her face before she rose for the hug and then felt it with his hands.
"Susie, you look great," Rock said.
"Thanks, Rock, so do you. Are you ready to get it on?"
"Do what?"
She was suddenly the teenager who proposed to Rock one night when she and her parents met him by accident in a North Little Rock Wendy's.
"You heard me." Susie stood from the table and zipped up her weather-resistant running jacket. "Let's get out of here before anyone else shows up. Are your sheets clean?"
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Mr. Sparky
It was Steve Edward's birthday, and Rock was at a party at Steve's home in Florida when someone joked about the old cars Steve always drove.
"Shit, man, I rode in the oldest of the bunch," Rock said. "It was an AMC of some sort, right Steve? From the fucking 60's."
"No, Rock, it was a Dodge," Steve said.
"Sure, sure, right. You called it Mr. Sparky. I'll never forgot that night, you remember, in 1989, after we'd been drinking all night at that Razorback game. We saw that cop on JFK, and you go, 'FUCK! COP!', and then immediately plow into Cathy Simpson's front yard."
"Shit, man, I rode in the oldest of the bunch," Rock said. "It was an AMC of some sort, right Steve? From the fucking 60's."
"No, Rock, it was a Dodge," Steve said.
"Sure, sure, right. You called it Mr. Sparky. I'll never forgot that night, you remember, in 1989, after we'd been drinking all night at that Razorback game. We saw that cop on JFK, and you go, 'FUCK! COP!', and then immediately plow into Cathy Simpson's front yard."
A daydream revisited
Daydreams of fame for Rock always included an enjoyment he imagined faraway people from his past might feel or express once they were exposed to it. They would say things like, Hey, did you see what Rock did? Did you read about Rock in the paper? Have you seen his book? For god's sake, I saw Rock on TV last night!
Now his daydream had arrived; Rock was a star in two professional sports. He played a great game at quarterback the night before and was on a bus to play baseball when he saw two such people, in this case longtime dear friends—Erin, a tiny and pretty thirty-four year-old Alaskan native, nearly Asian in appearance, with whom he ran two marathons in Little Rock a decade earlier, and Kurt Wagner, a fifty-five year-old pot-bellied shaggy blonde who ran track with Rock at a high school in Arkansas, but had lived in Phoenix for nearly twenty years. It was clear to Rock that they were elated to see him and to at last meet one another, and he shared their pleasure.
"You're the Run and Puke Kid, aren't you?" Erin knew and beamed at the wonder of this meeting, just as Rock would have predicted. He knew stories of the Run and Puke Kid were a small but significant part of her past with him.
Kurt was noted in college for his propensity to vomit after long, hard runs, and he feigned embarrassment to hear it recalled. "Shit, dude, when are you gonna let that drop?" And then, "Erin, it's great to meet you. Rock used to talk about you a lot."
Rock was overjoyed, and it didn't occur to him until several hours after he checked into his room that neither Erin nor Kurt had spoken of his new stardom.
Now his daydream had arrived; Rock was a star in two professional sports. He played a great game at quarterback the night before and was on a bus to play baseball when he saw two such people, in this case longtime dear friends—Erin, a tiny and pretty thirty-four year-old Alaskan native, nearly Asian in appearance, with whom he ran two marathons in Little Rock a decade earlier, and Kurt Wagner, a fifty-five year-old pot-bellied shaggy blonde who ran track with Rock at a high school in Arkansas, but had lived in Phoenix for nearly twenty years. It was clear to Rock that they were elated to see him and to at last meet one another, and he shared their pleasure.
"You're the Run and Puke Kid, aren't you?" Erin knew and beamed at the wonder of this meeting, just as Rock would have predicted. He knew stories of the Run and Puke Kid were a small but significant part of her past with him.
Kurt was noted in college for his propensity to vomit after long, hard runs, and he feigned embarrassment to hear it recalled. "Shit, dude, when are you gonna let that drop?" And then, "Erin, it's great to meet you. Rock used to talk about you a lot."
Rock was overjoyed, and it didn't occur to him until several hours after he checked into his room that neither Erin nor Kurt had spoken of his new stardom.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
The party
The directions were simple: go north on Duncan Street, and the party's at the 10th house on the left. At least they seemed simple, but Rock got confused by the mixture of condominiums and houses that were all exactly the same size. They were each two stories tall, no more than twenty feet wide and painted white, with black tile roofs.
They were packed together on tiny lawns, like the houses Rock remembered from the Hill in St. Louis. He counted ten, but no one answered when he knocked. Rock thought he might be a little early and decided to walk around the neighborhood for a while.
After his thirty-minute walk, during which Rock noticed every house was constructed and decorated the same as the ones on Duncan, he walked by the house and knocked again.
A slightly overweight but otherwise lovely, young brunette answered and invited Rock in. There were five other women in the front room, all of whom Rock assumed were students at the local college a couple of blocks away. It almost immediately occurred to Rock that he had never seen any of these women, though they seemed pleased he was there.
"Wait minute," Rock said. "Are we on Duncan Street?"
"No, we're not," the brunette said. "Duncan's a block that way. Are looking for the party?"
"I was, yes. I was looking for a party."
"Well, great, we're going there in just a minute. Why don't you come with us?"
They were packed together on tiny lawns, like the houses Rock remembered from the Hill in St. Louis. He counted ten, but no one answered when he knocked. Rock thought he might be a little early and decided to walk around the neighborhood for a while.
After his thirty-minute walk, during which Rock noticed every house was constructed and decorated the same as the ones on Duncan, he walked by the house and knocked again.
A slightly overweight but otherwise lovely, young brunette answered and invited Rock in. There were five other women in the front room, all of whom Rock assumed were students at the local college a couple of blocks away. It almost immediately occurred to Rock that he had never seen any of these women, though they seemed pleased he was there.
"Wait minute," Rock said. "Are we on Duncan Street?"
"No, we're not," the brunette said. "Duncan's a block that way. Are looking for the party?"
"I was, yes. I was looking for a party."
"Well, great, we're going there in just a minute. Why don't you come with us?"
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Cats
There were three mutilated cats, damaged in horrendous ways, gathered on the wide and cracked railing of an old concrete bridge on the edge of a small town. One of the cat's eyes were gouged out, hanging an inch or more from their sockets on fine, bloody strands of muscle. Another looked as if its mouth had been yanked out by a powerful hand. There was nothing but a bloody, jagged hole below its nose. The third lay on its side, with both front legs gone, seemingly pulled off by sudden, tremendous force from its front shoulders, and blood poured from the sheered sockets.
Rock was horrified.
Rock was horrified.
Monday, April 20, 2015
Derby prospects
Rock stood with an acquaintance from the Little Rock Hash House Harriers in a stable at Churchill Downs. Emon Mahony, the Hasher, knew almost nothing about thoroughbred racing, but Rock didn't have time to explain much to him. He was too busy with his analysis of the upcoming Kentucky Derby.
It was late at night, and the stable was dark, its only light provided by a dim light bulb that hung bare on a short wire. Rock told Emon how he had been in this same stall a couple of weeks earlier with several owners and trainers as they tried to determine the source of some very foul smelling flatulence. It could have come from one or more of the men or perhaps from the small animals with them. There was a squirrel, a raccoon, and a possum squatting on a warped shelf that was cluttered with bottles of liniment and dirty towels and brushes and rope and dozens of other items irregularly and unintentionally stacked among dust and cobwebs to represent the life and history of the barn, which Rock figured was at least fifty years old.
Rock was frustrated by questions he had left unanswered during the Oaklawn Park season. For instance, how did Far Right, second in the Arkansas Derby, get his name? Why did the owner of American Pharoah, the Arkansas Derby winner, misspell Pharaoh? And why hadn't he pressed Hall of Fame trainer Wayne Lukas after Lukas told him Mr. Z, third in the Ark Derby, didn't drift at all in the Southwest Stakes?
It was late at night, and the stable was dark, its only light provided by a dim light bulb that hung bare on a short wire. Rock told Emon how he had been in this same stall a couple of weeks earlier with several owners and trainers as they tried to determine the source of some very foul smelling flatulence. It could have come from one or more of the men or perhaps from the small animals with them. There was a squirrel, a raccoon, and a possum squatting on a warped shelf that was cluttered with bottles of liniment and dirty towels and brushes and rope and dozens of other items irregularly and unintentionally stacked among dust and cobwebs to represent the life and history of the barn, which Rock figured was at least fifty years old.
Rock was frustrated by questions he had left unanswered during the Oaklawn Park season. For instance, how did Far Right, second in the Arkansas Derby, get his name? Why did the owner of American Pharoah, the Arkansas Derby winner, misspell Pharaoh? And why hadn't he pressed Hall of Fame trainer Wayne Lukas after Lukas told him Mr. Z, third in the Ark Derby, didn't drift at all in the Southwest Stakes?
Sunday, April 19, 2015
Mashed potatoes
As Rock rummaged through a display of golf shorts at a department store, he noticed that Russian premier Vladimir Putin was at the opposite end of the same display, five feet to his left.
"You should check these down here," Putin said to him. "They are a very low priced."
"Thanks, I'll give them a look," Rock said.
Rock next walked from the store directly into his maternal grandmother's house. It did not seem at all odd to him that the two were connected. He sat at the dining room table with his grandmother, his mother, and his mother's identical twin sister Jean.
His grandmother put a large serving of mashed potatoes in a bowl in front of Rock, and then smothered it in cream gravy, but just before Rock dug in, his mother picked up an entire stick of butter from a butter dish and dropped it with her hand directly into the middle of Rock's potatoes.
"Mom, why did you do that?" said Rock as he used a fork to remove the butter. "It seems like something an insane person would do."
"You should check these down here," Putin said to him. "They are a very low priced."
"Thanks, I'll give them a look," Rock said.
Rock next walked from the store directly into his maternal grandmother's house. It did not seem at all odd to him that the two were connected. He sat at the dining room table with his grandmother, his mother, and his mother's identical twin sister Jean.
His grandmother put a large serving of mashed potatoes in a bowl in front of Rock, and then smothered it in cream gravy, but just before Rock dug in, his mother picked up an entire stick of butter from a butter dish and dropped it with her hand directly into the middle of Rock's potatoes.
"Mom, why did you do that?" said Rock as he used a fork to remove the butter. "It seems like something an insane person would do."
Saturday, April 18, 2015
Stand up
Rock's stand-up routine was completely improvised, and from the start he had a jam-packed crowd of college kids and Hash House Harriers laughing hysterically. There were a thousand or so in the small, dark auditorium as Rock began.
"OK, y'all, let's see if I can't be funnier than two motherfuckers for a little while."
Afterward he and Hashing buddies Kayce Smith and Emon Mahony ate at a Subway, where the clerk explained to them that they would have to wait for the bread to finish baking before he could make their sandwiches.
Rock told him it was the best thing he could've said. Kayce agreed.
The sandwiches were fantastic.
"OK, y'all, let's see if I can't be funnier than two motherfuckers for a little while."
Afterward he and Hashing buddies Kayce Smith and Emon Mahony ate at a Subway, where the clerk explained to them that they would have to wait for the bread to finish baking before he could make their sandwiches.
Rock told him it was the best thing he could've said. Kayce agreed.
The sandwiches were fantastic.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Basketball
This was Rock's first pickup basketball game in 27 years, and within a minute he realized why he had quit playing. He sucked. He had trouble dribbling and couldn't shoot at all.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
War Memorial Stadium
There was a metal cover built around the west corner of the south end zone at War Memorial Stadium, apparently put there Rock supposed to protect the vast array of tools spread across the grass near the sideline.
Rock watched as a crew quickly brought down the cover. It was nearly time for kickoff of the Arkansas Razorbacks' 2015 season-opener, but Rock wondered why the steel and brass tools still lay in the grass. They presented a clear danger to players.
Rock watched as a crew quickly brought down the cover. It was nearly time for kickoff of the Arkansas Razorbacks' 2015 season-opener, but Rock wondered why the steel and brass tools still lay in the grass. They presented a clear danger to players.
Beat the Streak
Rock and Erin agreed to drive their cars from downtown Little Rock across the Arkansas River to a bar and restaurant in North Little Rock, but as they walked toward them, they talked about a game they had played together for years called Beat the Streak, from the Major League Baseball Website.
Erin told Pete that a mutual friend of theirs named Kane told her he'd played in fifty Beat the Streak leagues the season before when he was in Europe.
This seemed odd to Rock, since he had not once heard Kane mention anything about playing the game.
Erin told Pete that a mutual friend of theirs named Kane told her he'd played in fifty Beat the Streak leagues the season before when he was in Europe.
This seemed odd to Rock, since he had not once heard Kane mention anything about playing the game.
Monday, April 6, 2015
Zach's chopper
This was Rock's first time in a helicopter. It was owned and flown by Zach, a friend from the Hash House Harriers who invited him along as he flew a reporter from the paper to watch a devastating train wreck in eastern Arkansas.
It wasn't clear to Rock how anyone knew ahead of time of the wreck, but they arrived in time to see the train rolling just a few seconds away from it not far from DeValls Bluff.
The train at first smashed into an old, weathered barn, which immediately disintegrated into a swirl of hay and shattered boards. The train entered a small town and smashed building after building until it rolled into the Arkansas River and sunk to the bottom.
Zach dropped the reporter off, who began to help pull people from the river, except for a few children who seemed pleased by their circumstance. Some of them swam away from the shore and began to play in the water, as if the train had delivered them there for that purpose.
Zach turned the helicopter back home, cruising right down the middle of a long, straight highway between telephone poles on each side.
"Aren't you flying too close to those poles?" Rock asked.
"You want to get as close as you can," Zach said.
It wasn't clear to Rock how anyone knew ahead of time of the wreck, but they arrived in time to see the train rolling just a few seconds away from it not far from DeValls Bluff.
The train at first smashed into an old, weathered barn, which immediately disintegrated into a swirl of hay and shattered boards. The train entered a small town and smashed building after building until it rolled into the Arkansas River and sunk to the bottom.
Zach dropped the reporter off, who began to help pull people from the river, except for a few children who seemed pleased by their circumstance. Some of them swam away from the shore and began to play in the water, as if the train had delivered them there for that purpose.
Zach turned the helicopter back home, cruising right down the middle of a long, straight highway between telephone poles on each side.
"Aren't you flying too close to those poles?" Rock asked.
"You want to get as close as you can," Zach said.
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Back yard drive
At first Rock thought he had hit his drive too high. It seemed to have started with the trajectory of a wedge rather than the 10.5-degree, 2008 Taylormade driver he hit from his cousin Crutch Aikman's back yard. Nevertheless, after it reached the apex of its ascent and began to turn back down, it was clear that it had enormous carry. It landed in someone's front lawn on the other side of city park, or at least Rock thought so. He wasn't positive. Pretty sure, but not positive.
Rock could only estimate how far it had gone, but it looked like 300 yards or so. Crutch walked out a few seconds after it landed.
"Goddamn, Crutch, you should've seen the drive I just hit," Rock said.
"Where did it go?"
"You know what, I'm not certain, but I think it landed in the back yard of that red-brick house over there on the other side of the park?"
"Fuck, you're kidding me. Did it bounce off the street or something?"
Rock could only estimate how far it had gone, but it looked like 300 yards or so. Crutch walked out a few seconds after it landed.
"Goddamn, Crutch, you should've seen the drive I just hit," Rock said.
"Where did it go?"
"You know what, I'm not certain, but I think it landed in the back yard of that red-brick house over there on the other side of the park?"
"Fuck, you're kidding me. Did it bounce off the street or something?"
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Pro Bowl confusion
Apparently Rock had spent the night trying to appoint NFL players to the Pro Bowl but was confused throughout the process.
And there was even more involved.
He climbed from his front bedroom bed shortly after dawn and heard, as he used the bathroom, an old, retired linebacker named Harry Carson, the Pro Football Hall of Famer and former Giant, complain that a story Rock had written said Carson played in the 1960 Pro Bowl. Carson's first season in the pros was 1976.
Rock put his hands up, walked back to his bedroom and told Carson not to worry, he'd fix things but not until after he got these fucking Pro Bowl rosters settled, the ones he was working on right now. Carson held up a sweatshirt with his name and number and 1960 printed across its front. "We'll take of take care of that, man." Rock was frustrated and still baffled. "Just be patient. I'm telling you, right now I got other things to do."
And there was even more involved.
He climbed from his front bedroom bed shortly after dawn and heard, as he used the bathroom, an old, retired linebacker named Harry Carson, the Pro Football Hall of Famer and former Giant, complain that a story Rock had written said Carson played in the 1960 Pro Bowl. Carson's first season in the pros was 1976.
Rock put his hands up, walked back to his bedroom and told Carson not to worry, he'd fix things but not until after he got these fucking Pro Bowl rosters settled, the ones he was working on right now. Carson held up a sweatshirt with his name and number and 1960 printed across its front. "We'll take of take care of that, man." Rock was frustrated and still baffled. "Just be patient. I'm telling you, right now I got other things to do."
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