Over 60: Peace and Quiet

Over 60

By Stanley Greenberg

One would think you could find a bit of peace and quiet at either the movies or at a baseball game. The exact opposite is true.

In the movies, every moment is filled with noise, rock and roll or some form of music with which I am just not familiar.

The coming attractions blare out with the idea that if they are loud and disturbing enough, you will rush back in to see this wonderful gem from Hollywood. Each scene is one-half second long, giving the viewer a "flicker effect" and sound at the highest decibel level.

It is bad enough that there are not enough decent and worthwhile films being made, but why must they scream at us, the viewing public? We want serious films with intelligent dialogue and real-life situations. "Special effects" are not the answer. Nor is blood and gore. Most of all, Mr. Spielberg, Geffen and Katzenberg, turn down the volume. Do noise and volume act as cover-ups for lack of dialog, intelligence and plot?

Now, let me talk about baseball.

Last Thursday I traveled with 29 other gentlemen on a rented bus to see a baseball game at KeySpan Park in Coney Island. After a delicious side-trip to the "Original Nathans" (two firmly packed hot dogs with mustard and sauerkraut - French fries (ketchup and lemonade), we entered the stadium. The atmosphere was wonderful. Natural grass on the field. Next to the ocean and the boardwalk is a small, but homey, baseball field (7,500 seats). I thought I was in baseball heaven. The Brooklyn Cyclones are a Met farm team and Howard Johnson (HoJo) a former Met was the first-base coach. The manager is Edgar Alfonzo, brother of the Mets second baseman Edgardo Alfonso.

The quality of the baseball was excellent. They turned six double plays in the extra inning game that I attended. My only complaints were all the side shows and raucous carryings-on.

Professional "toomlers" danced on top of the dugout and kept the crowd in a frenzy. A counterpart of the San Diego Chicken was also making a lot of trouble. T-shirts were fired into the crowd. Inane baseball quizzes kept flashing on the scoreboard. People dressed as hot dogs raced for prizes. The volume was loud, louder and loudest. So much action! So much noise!

The game has its own charm. Why not leave the fans alone between innings to just dwell on and think about the sport? Diversions away from the baseball action of the game on the field are not always appreciated.

Ah, am I just an old fogey and a curmudgeon? Send any answers to shgreenbug@aol.com.