Jason Moore

Disciple of Christ, Amanda's husband, Hannah, Lily, John, and Asa's dad, Providence Bible Church servant.
Yankees, Redskins/Commanders, 76ers

[Jason Moore @helenboy]

@skipewing @MartinGuitar Man that is GORGEOUS!!!!

[Michael Warburton @For_Film_Fans]

‘The Joker’ has a new, ambitious plan: to become a surfing champion of the world.

When Batman, Batgirl and Robin try to stop him, their plans are foiled.

BATMAN (1967)

Bonkers. Love it.

#CesarRomero #AdamWest #BurtWard #YvonneCraig

[Thrilla the Gorilla @ThrillaRilla369]

At my kids doctor appointment.

Doctor: Do you have guns in your home?

Me: Sir I have guns in your office.

[Presidential Wisdom @PrezWisdom]

Construction of Mount Rushmore

#POTUS 🇺🇸

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

Kid at the church potluck was hiding under the dessert table.
Eating a whole pie with his hands.

A woman found him.
She didn't yell. She sat down next to him. Under the table.
Took a fork out of her purse.
They finished the pie together.

When they crawled out, she wiped his face with her sleeve.
Then she walked back to her seat.
Sat down next to her husband. Alone.

She didn't have children.
She never did.

The kid's real mom found him ten minutes later.
The boy said a lady helped him. Nobody knew who.

The pastor's sermon that day was about honesty.
The woman kept looking at the floor.

She'd wanted to be a mother for eleven years.
For nine minutes under that table, she was one.

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

At a farm stand in Idaho I asked for two potatoes.

The farmer's eyes went huge, then kind. "Two? Oh honey. Let us upgrade you."

He called, cheerfully, "Starter pack for our guest!" Four people loaded a fifty-pound sack into my car.

The receipt said: 2 POTATOES + 48 FRIENDS FOR THE ROAD.

I wanted dinner. They sent a support group.

America, your generosity comes in sacks. My rental car still smells like victory.

[Larry Legend☘️ @LarryBirdDaily]

Mouse in the house. Larry Bird asked for a double team.. And meant it! 🤣

[Via: theprosport tiktok]

[Bill Meltzer @billmeltzer]

Rocky 50th anniversary fact of the day

As originally planned and scripted by Sylvester Stallone, Rocky doesn't go alone to the Spectrum on the night before
the Apollo fight.

Instead, he and Mickey watch footage of previous Apollo fights. That's when Rocky realizes he can only hope to go the distance.

This never made it into the movie but John Avildsen took 8 mm films for the planned scene.

Thankfully, that footage survives.

[Clay Travis @ClayTravis]

3:42:66 on the mile for Josh Kerr to break a 27 year record for the fastest mile. Pretty cool. Absolutely insane pace that most people couldn’t hit for 100 yards, much less a mile.

[greg @greg16676935420]

Today’s the last day we all have to pretend to like soccer

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

People are not leaving television because X is more entertaining.

Television tells you what happened.

X shows you what television left out.

One asks for your trust.

The other lets you decide.

That difference is killing television.

[DiscussingFilm @DiscussingFilm]

The dolphins that were in ‘THE ODYSSEY’ just happened to appear on accident & were filmed anyway.

[Super 70s Sports @Super70sSports]

"Sorry, folks, park's closed. Moose out front shoulda told ya."

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

In Arizona I drove to the edge of the earth.

The Grand Canyon.

It was the first time in my life I had nothing to say.

A ranger in a flat hat told me the rock at the bottom is two billion years old.

I asked who this belongs to.

"Everyone. It's a national park."

I paid thirty-five dollars. For thirty-five dollars I received two billion years of earth, a sunset that was being painted while I watched, and a parking spot.

In my country the most beautiful garden belongs to the emperor.

In this country the most beautiful canyon belongs to a family in matching t-shirts eating trail mix out of a Ziploc bag.

They were taking a photograph. The mother said "everybody say GRAND CANYON" and they said it and it echoed and I think the canyon said it back.

Thirty-five dollars. Two billion years. Everybody.

This country is out of its mind and I am never leaving.

[BaseballHistoryNut @nut_history]

Great Yogi Berra/Whitey Ford story - take the minute to watch

[Brick Suit @Brick_Suit]

The Union Pacific Big Boy #4014 just crossed Route 66!

Two American icons together 🇺🇸

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

New York Harbor. July 4th. I went to see a boat.

There were sixty. From twenty countries. I had come to the wrong scale of event.

A ship sailed past me the size of my hometown. Then another. Then another. I stopped counting when the counting started to feel disrespectful.

America turned two hundred and fifty this week, and the whole ocean showed up.

A man beside me was crying into a hot dog. I did not ask.

Then I saw the sailors.

Young. Nineteen. Twenty. Lined up along the yardarms, standing in the sky, three hundred feet above the water, in dress whites, saluting a copper woman they had never met.

Italy sent them. Romania sent them. Portugal, Germany, Japan.

Japan sent them.

My country crossed an ocean to salute her.

I have to sit down.

A woman handed me water without asking. Americans can smell a foreigner about to weep from forty paces.

"First time seeing Sail?" she said.

"First time seeing anything."

She patted my arm like I was seven. I did not correct her. I was seven.

The Coast Guard ship Eagle led the fleet. I looked it up later. She was built in Germany in 1936. America took her as war reparations. She now trains American sailors to be honorable at sea.

A gift from a former enemy. Ninety years later. Leading the parade for her hosts' birthday.

I have witnessed reconciliations. I have never witnessed one show up on time and in uniform.

The old man next to me said, "I was here in '76. Watched the same parade with my dad."

"Is he here today?"

"Nope. I brought his hat."

He tipped a Navy cap toward the water, so his father could see.

I have carried my ancestors into battle in prayers. I have never thought to carry one to a party.

The ships kept coming. Six million people were watching from the shore. Nobody was on their phone. Sixty ships is louder than a phone.

When the Amerigo Vespucci passed, Italy's sailors sang. In Italian. To a statue.

A little girl beside me whispered to her mother, "Why are they singing to her?"

Her mother said, "Because she's tall, honey."

That is the correct answer. That is the only answer. I will never hear a better answer.

Then the flyover.

One hundred aircraft. The Blue Angels split the sky open and the whole harbor screamed like they had been waiting two hundred and fifty years to make that exact sound.

A country that invites the whole world to its birthday and lets the world sing first.

My clan celebrated victories in silence, behind screens, with tea.

America celebrated turning two hundred and fifty by inviting the ships of thirty nations and letting a nineteen year old Romanian salute a French statue in front of six million strangers.

I have been to quieter weddings.

I have never been to a better one.

On the ferry back, a man in a Yankees cap asked where I was from.

"Japan."

"Long way to come for a birthday."

"You invited the ocean. I took the hint."

He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder like we had served together.

Maybe we had.

The old man's father was watching from the water. My ancestors were watching from the tea. Six million Americans were watching from the shore. Sixty ships were watching from the harbor.

Everybody was watching. Nobody was alone.

I will come back in fifty years for the three hundredth.

I will bring my grandfather's hat.

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

In South Dakota, a sign in the middle of the prairie made me a promise.

WALL DRUG. FREE ICE WATER.

Minutes later, another sign. Same promise.

Then another.

Then another.

Three hundred signs stand along that highway. I did not count them. I was counted by them.

The prairie is larger than my entire country's idea of large. Grass to one horizon. Sky to the other.

My ancestors built temples for two hundred years to make a man feel small.

South Dakota does it with a field.

And across all of it, every few minutes, the same calm voice. Ice water. Still free. Almost there.

By the second hour I was not driving to a drugstore.

I was being called.

I arrived. It is not a drugstore. It is a town wearing a drugstore's name. A wall of fudge. A robot dinosaur. A jackalope children ride like cavalry.

I walked past all of it.

I stood at the counter. I bowed.

"The signs promised me water. I have come to receive it."

"You bet, hon."

She handed me a paper cup of ice water.

Free.

I did not drink it. Not yet.

Water is what a lord gives a beaten enemy after the battle, when there is nothing left to take from him.

They have been offering it to strangers who have not even fought them yet. Since 1936.

They came. Twenty thousand a day, in summer, to a town far from everything, for a cup of something free.

In my land, a lord who kept his word for one lifetime is written into a scroll.

A woman in a dust storm kept hers for ninety years, and they printed it on a road sign, and nobody in this country finds that remarkable.

I held the cup in both hands, straightened my back, and drank the greatest cup of water in the history of the world.

She watched me finish. She saw what it had done to me.

And she reached for the pot.

"Coffee's five cents too, hon. You want one?"

Five cents.

I have paid more than that for the paper my receipt was printed on.

She was not selling me coffee. She was checking whether ninety years of water had been enough for me, and deciding, on her own, that it had not.

That is when I understood.

The water was never the promise.

The water was only the excuse to open the door.

Everything after it is the promise. The coffee. The fudge. The dinosaur. The woman still standing there with a pot in her hand, waiting for a stranger to answer.

I said yes.

I did not want coffee. I wanted to be someone she had poured for.

Then, from the war: American soldiers carried these signs across the earth. One hangs in the London Underground.

WALL DRUG. 5,160 MILES.

Five thousand miles from the promise. Still advertising it. Still keeping it.

On my way out I bought forty dollars of fudge and a bumper sticker. A man does not drink from the well and leave nothing at the shrine.

The sticker asks: WHERE THE HECK IS WALL DRUG.

My clan carried banners into battle for eight hundred years.

My car carries one now.

They tell me I cannot drive it home to Japan. I have not accepted this.

But the vow is made. If a thirsty stranger stands at my door, in any country, in any season, he receives ice water. Free. Handed over with both hands.

Some nations promise their people the world.

South Dakota promised strangers a cup of water, and has never once failed to deliver it.

I know which promise I would drive five thousand miles for.

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

In Boston I watched baseball in a park built in 1912.

Fenway. The walls are green, and one of them is called a Monster, with affection.

The home team was losing by six runs in the eighth inning.

In Japan, this is when a crowd grows quiet and respectful, like visiting a sick relative.

Instead, an organ played.

Thirty-seven thousand people stood up.

And they sang.

"Sweet Caroline." A song from 1969 that has nothing to do with baseball, Boston, or the score.

Then the song said "Sweet Caroline," and thirty-seven thousand people shouted "BAH BAH BAH."

I checked the lyrics later.

There is no "BAH BAH BAH."

In the original song, that part belongs to trumpets.

Boston heard the trumpets and decided they could do better.

Thirty-seven thousand people have replaced a brass section. By memory. Without being asked.

In Japan we rehearse for months to achieve unity like this. Companies hire trainers. Schools practice for a year.

Boston does it drunk, in the eighth inning, down by six.

I asked the man beside me why they sing when the team is losing.

He looked at me with great patience and said, "Because it's the eighth."

That was the whole answer.

He believed it was sufficient.

It was.

Later I learned one more thing, and I will say it quietly.

In 2013, when this city was hurt, their oldest enemy — New York — played this song in their own stadium. For Boston.

Enemies do not do that.

Family does.

The team lost that night, by the way. Nobody seemed to mind.

They had already won the eighth inning.

I drove home alone on the highway.

At some point, and I do not remember deciding this, I was singing.

"SO GOOD. SO GOOD. SO GOOD."

Alone. In a Toyota. In the dark.

The song is not about anything.

The song is about everything.

BAH. BAH. BAH.