Play Ball...Or Something

     I really enjoy baseball.  My son and I can be seen in regular attendance at our neaby ballpark in which the Grizzlies, the Triple A affiliate of the SanFrancisco Giants, play.  I love the game, but that is not the fun part of baseball.  Baseball is an experience, three hours of sights and sounds.  It is.
     A couple of nights ago, my son and I went to a game.  I bought tickets on the day of the game, not specially choosing where we sit but in good seats for the game.  There is no way of knowing who is going to sit near you. In a way, that too is the fun of a game.  You get to meet and talk to people you have never met before and probably never see again.  That's the beauty of it all, fun and you can open your mouth and say stupid things and not worry about the embarrassment of it all. You will never see the person that hears the stupid remark again.  I am not talking about anything maliscious or racist.  I am talking about comments that perhaps show a lack of knowledge of the great game or just plain fun and maybe shocking in an unexpected way.
      My son and I recently went to the game, found our seats and sat down.  A few minutes later, the people with the seats behind us came in and sat down.  They were five older couples, by older I meant very late fifties to mid sixties.  They had ten tickets, five in the row behind us and five in the row behind that.  The men sat in a row two rows behind us, and the wives sat in the row behind us.  Very nice people, except the guys were talking baseball and enjoying the game while the wives were discussing other things.  Shopping was on their minds....among other things.  Remember, late fifties to early sixties, got it?
     The sixth inning saw a break in the action, the Grizzlies being out in the field.  One of the ladies behind me stated the question, "Why are their uniform pants so long?"
     "I don't know, but I don't like them."  another of the ladies said.  Remember, late fifties to early sixties, are you still with me?
     "They used to wear those pulled up socks and the pants were tight."  A third lady chimed in.
     "Those pants were really tight, and we got to see some rally tight butts.  I don't like the baggy pants.  I want to see some tight butts!"  The middle lady exclaimed. 
     All five of the ladies were of one accord, tight butts were on their minds.  I'm not sure how to react to that.  I think that I am a bit frightened by that, or perhaps sort of "deer in the headlights" sort of stunned.  I'm going to end my comments here, because I think that I am speechless.  The mental pictures are a bit unnerving to me.  I don't know how to process this.  Maybe I should go and watch a "Yogi Bear" cartoon or a "Tom and Jerry" cartoon. I may have been damaged for the rest of my life.  Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!