4-14-01 Sa 4;34 PM

We're stopped at a gas station in Palo Alto. The baby was squawking, so we pulled off the 101 to feed her. She's not real serious about eating, though. I think she just wanted out of the confines of her car seat. I typed fifteen minutes in the hotel room yesterday after I came back from Hannold's. We were going to take the train to the A's game, but Rochelle wanted to take the car. It was cold and windy at Network Associates Coliseum, formerly Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum. A kid named Corey Lidle was making his major league debut on the mound for Oakland. He started Rusty Greer off with a strike, then a ball, then Greer smoked one off the right field foul pole. The next batter, Randy Velarde, also deposited one in the bleachers, en route to a thirteen to one thrashing by the Texas Rangers. Two hundred and fifty-two-thousand-dollar man, Alex Rodriguez hit his first homerun of the season. We had beer, dogs, and nuts. But it is a very noisy stadium with rock music blaring loudly from the speakers constantly. It was making the baby miserable, along with the cold. We left in the third inning; the A's were already losing eight nothing. It is a very non-descript stadium, surrounded by a big parking lot in an industrial area. Probably the least-appealing ballpark I've visited. Back at the hotel, I read more of Lamour's memoir (yawn). Then Rochele and I walked to the embarcadero and to Mo Jack's Bar, where you wondered if the characters were as tough as they looked. I put my name on the list to shoot pool. I was tenth. The same guy won all ten games, a big black dude. I drank beer and bourbon waiting my turn. The guy had a phenomenal bank shot the kind of man you can see has great all-around skill. Nobody in the room could beat him. Except me. I was just lucky that he never had any easy shots. His name was Earl. I started calling him "Earl the Banker." When I had to bank one, I said, "Hey banker, how 'bout a loan." Some guy called Ethiopian Joe started buying our drinks for us. I had six beers and two bourbons. From there, Rochelle and I walked to Jack's Rendezvous Heinold's First and Last Chance Saloon. Since 1882. You walk in and the floor slopes down to where the floor buckled in the great 1906 earthquake. You have to sit funny to keep from sliding off the stools. Rochelle was hungry, so we went to a burger joint on Broadway called Notions.