My little brother, the Great Wazoo AKA Waz, used to go to my baseball games and shadow my dad and shout out instruction just like my dad.
"Get your head in the game!"
"keep your eye on the ball"
that sort of thing.
That's one fact.
Separate from that fact my dad used to refer to people of Hispanic descent who he found to be of low economic standing/criminals/ or illegal aliens as "wetbacks"
I am not going to try to defend him in any way other than to say that I can't say I ever saw him overtly discriminate against anyone in any fashion. He thought of everybody equally as scum of the earth. Oakies, spades, wetbacks it was all the same to him. Everybody was guilty of something until you could prove it to him otherwise.
whatever.
One day we were driving in the car and we were adjacent to a strawberry field. A bunch of pickers started jaywalking in front of us and Waz looked out, saw a group of Hispanic guys in baseball caps and he yelled out:
"PLAY BALL, WETBACKS!"
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Here's one about Waz
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4 comments:
ooohh man...if Waz read this blog he would not be happy--despite the fact that it is a true story.
whatever.he doesn't even call me let alone go to the trouble of reading something I've written.
andf if I'm willing to tell an itchy butthole about myself, then the gloves are off baby..
oh my gosh, what did you and your dad do? besides laugh at first.
I just remember laughing very hard...I can't recall how Rex handled it.
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