Across the street from McLendon's hardware in White Center is Marty's Barber Shop.

Marty has been cutting hair here since 1958 and is still going strong. I first met him when one of my six sons clipped his Cadillac in 1960 giving it a side burn.

He wanted to use a razor strop but I told him I would trim the kid.

Marty started off cutting hair in Kennewick before moving here.

Amazingly, Dave Howell, came into the shop while he was busy with Pursley and revealed that he too came from Kennewick and Marty had cut his hair over there.

As I was helping Elsbeth make the bed the other morning, out of the blue she said, "The radio says that Felix got a tight elbow in the first inning - so that is why we lost."

I was astounded. She is so hooked on baseball. Before she came to America in 1949 she didn't know a baseball from a casaba and here she is an announcer. Shades of Royal Brougham.

Here I am, born with a Louisville Slugger in my crib, pounding my Reach fielders glove till my fist turned raw every waking moment, 10-year-old pepper boy at second base yelling at the ump, the batter, stray dogs, ripping my school longies on an awkward slide, pounding the plate with the business end of my favorite bat like Mike Higgins, Portland hot corner star and ignoring the catcalls from so called teammates when I botched an easy grounder.

I knew baseball. I knew the batting averages of every would-be Joe DiMaggio. I once yelled at Portland left fielder Lou Finney and he turned around and waved at me in the bleachers. What a thrill.

I even turned out one year for Portland batboy along with 200 others and got beaten out by a kid named Donnie Kirsch and 198 others. Even though I was batboy for the Woodlawn grade school team. So much for experience.

Donnie went on to become legendary head baseball coach for the Oregon ducks.

Elsbeth has quick hands, a good eye, and excellent coordination and makes some great moves in the kitchen, too.

Jerry may be reached at publisher@robinsonnews.com