A Hole In One
Hello World,
Happy Columbus Day weekend! I hope that you're taking this opportunity to explore new vistas, conquer new territories, meet new and different people, and generally navigate new waters of adventure in various aspects of your life and times. Of course, it's true that our poor old pal Christopher Columbus has long since become the poster child for the "what-have-you-done-for-us-lately" syndrome, and relegated to the trash heap of holiday history, where his special day is no longer observed as a day off by many, including the hospital where I work, thanks so very much not. But I find that the intrepid sea-faring legend is really taking a beating this time around, as even Bill is going in to work, and his company was historically one of the last bastions of championing the neglected heroes of yesteryear and their traditional celebrations. (Let's hear it for League of Nations Day!) Even in places where the legacy of Columbus is still celebrated, the local citizens had their annual parades canceled right out from under them, in cities where the economic hardship made the municipal government insist that the parade organizers pay for the extra police and sanitation costs, with the result that they pulled the plug on the whole idea - leaving the marching bands, scout troops, fire engines, clowns and Shriners without a leg to stand on, and the stilt-walkers, it goes without saying.
And also finding themselves in the "what-have-you-done-for-us-lately" category, the New York Mets certainly won't have their General Manager Omar Minaya and coach Jerry Manuel to kick around anymore, as they were both unceremoniously fired by the owners last week. In fact, the body wasn't even cold yet, as they say in political circles, as the ax fell bright and early on the morning of the first day after the season ended, so they were wasting no time getting their housecleaning out of the way. Of course, the baseball pundits will tell you that when you have a talented team that under-performs, it's usually not the manager that's the problem, but since they can't fire all 25 players, they end up firing one person instead and hoping for the best. (That reminds me of Ron Darling's famous observation, during an inning of woeful defensive lapses, that when the manager comes out to the mound, in many instances, he would rather take the other eight players off the field, and leave the pitcher instead.) I said to Bill that the problem with the Mets is that they tend to go from bad to worse, so most likely the next two people that they hire will be even worse than the two that just got the boot, but if you listen to sports radio at all, you would find that this move has been about the most popular thing the franchise has done in decades, and don't forget, that includes Mr. Met Bobble-head Day in the 60's.
So it really is true that the regular season in baseball is finally over and done with, and a handful of lucky teams have made it into post-season play, to the delight of their legions of fans in places like Tampa, Cincinnati, San Francisco, and of course New York - at least those fans of the pinstripe variety, that is. Just as the divisional series have gotten underway, this weekend also sees the home openers for the hockey season, giving their dozens of fans something to look forward to through the long cold winter in the wilderness outposts of Minnesota, Edmonton, Vancouver and the North Pole, where I hear their frozen-egg-nog-on-a-stick is enormously popular among the elves and reindeers at the rink, and I have no reason to doubt it. Pretty soon, even basketball will be back, as the hometown faithful hope against hope for better days ahead, except in New York, where they pretty much have given up on that idea, at least as far as the Knicks are concerned. Of course, I'm no sports doctor, and I don't even play one on television, but before they fire their General Manager and coach, I have one suggestion for the Knicks to make the fans happy, and that would be: frozen-beer-on-a-stick. Hey, don't knock it until you try it. Just ask the elves.
In other baseball news, and this of the more momentous variety, we get this alarming headline from the local newspaper, above a story about Alex Rodriguez of the Yankees:
==================
A-Rod's numbers down
but his heads still in a
good place after 2009
==================
Now, I'm not a language doctor, and I don't even play one on television. But that headline - just as it is, with no punctuation - makes it sound as if the baseball superstar has more than one head, which I'm pretty sure is not the case, or it would have no doubt made much more of a splash in the media. I can just envision this story:
[[ STEINBRENNER SIGNS TWO-HEADED SLUGGER
The owner chortles, "The other team's bullpen will be
useless against him, because with four eyes, he'll be able
to hit from both sides of the plate - at the same time!"
He went on to say, "Then after the game, he can do
two interviews at once, in English and Spanish
simultaneously, which will be a great time-saver, so
we can travel that much faster." Meanwhile, the
equipment manager downplayed the added expense of
extra baseball caps and batting helmets. ]]
Well, I have to say that actual headline is a classic example of "for want of an apostrophe, the meaning was lost," and that's not just a lot of frozen-beer-on-a-stick, believe me.
On the work front, we had an unexpected wardrobe malfunction that at least was more fizzle than sizzle in the prurient interest department. I always wear my sneakers in to work from the car, and change into my dress shoes once I get to my office. Yesterday, I noticed as I was walking around that there was a large gaping hole all along the side of the left shoe, so that my toe was sticking out for all the world to see, not that the world was clamoring for that sight, I can tell you that, but there it was. Obviously, I would not have worn those particular shoes to work if I had put them on at home instead, since I would have been aware of the hole ahead of time, but once I was already at work with them, there wasn't much I could do about it. I thought it was peculiar that only one of the shoes would develop this problem, since both of them would be the same age and getting the same amount of wear over the years, one supposes - unless I spent a lot of time hopping around on one foot, and the fact that I don't remember it is no guarantee that it didn't actually happen. So there I was, walking around and looking like a homeless person who should have a tin cup and be out panhandling on the street corner in their raggedy shoe with the toe sticking out. Honestly, you have something for 30 years, and suddenly it flies completely to pieces on you, I just can't understand it.
Last week, Bill and I were in Norwalk on business, and when we were finished (believe me, this made sense at the time) we decided to drive another 30 miles to have lunch at Denny's in Danbury, as long as we were up there. They were happy to see us, but not as happy as we were to be there, and we hunkered down to enjoy one of our special treats of traveling. They had recently unveiled some new blended tropical fruit drinks, and I'm always willing to try them if they're new, so I fearlessly ordered a Pacific Chiller, with the captivating fusion of coconut, lime, banana and orange, plus a splash of ice cold Sprite for an added boost. With that line-up of ingredients, frankly the last thing I was expecting our waitress to bring to the table was a tall glass full of fizzy blue liquid, and garnished with lemon and lime halves. It reminded me of comedian Larry Miller and his famous routine of the Five Stages of Drinking (and if you've never seen this before and you have 8 minutes, you should definitely check it out at -
YouTube - Larry Miller Drinking
and see for yourself) especially the part where he mentions the blue liquor, like something you would expect to see them drinking at a Vulcan wedding. I thought it was an interesting combination, but I found that it really didn't hold together as well as I might have hoped, and I also wondered about it turning my mouth blue, as well as the added possibility of that color scheme turning up later in the bathroom, if you know what I mean. Of course, like the New York Mets, I'm on board with the idea of "out with the old and in with the new," but as for me, I think I'll be staying with frozen-egg-nog-on-a-stick instead, thank you.
Elle
Happy Columbus Day weekend! I hope that you're taking this opportunity to explore new vistas, conquer new territories, meet new and different people, and generally navigate new waters of adventure in various aspects of your life and times. Of course, it's true that our poor old pal Christopher Columbus has long since become the poster child for the "what-have-you-done-for-us-lately" syndrome, and relegated to the trash heap of holiday history, where his special day is no longer observed as a day off by many, including the hospital where I work, thanks so very much not. But I find that the intrepid sea-faring legend is really taking a beating this time around, as even Bill is going in to work, and his company was historically one of the last bastions of championing the neglected heroes of yesteryear and their traditional celebrations. (Let's hear it for League of Nations Day!) Even in places where the legacy of Columbus is still celebrated, the local citizens had their annual parades canceled right out from under them, in cities where the economic hardship made the municipal government insist that the parade organizers pay for the extra police and sanitation costs, with the result that they pulled the plug on the whole idea - leaving the marching bands, scout troops, fire engines, clowns and Shriners without a leg to stand on, and the stilt-walkers, it goes without saying.
And also finding themselves in the "what-have-you-done-for-us-lately" category, the New York Mets certainly won't have their General Manager Omar Minaya and coach Jerry Manuel to kick around anymore, as they were both unceremoniously fired by the owners last week. In fact, the body wasn't even cold yet, as they say in political circles, as the ax fell bright and early on the morning of the first day after the season ended, so they were wasting no time getting their housecleaning out of the way. Of course, the baseball pundits will tell you that when you have a talented team that under-performs, it's usually not the manager that's the problem, but since they can't fire all 25 players, they end up firing one person instead and hoping for the best. (That reminds me of Ron Darling's famous observation, during an inning of woeful defensive lapses, that when the manager comes out to the mound, in many instances, he would rather take the other eight players off the field, and leave the pitcher instead.) I said to Bill that the problem with the Mets is that they tend to go from bad to worse, so most likely the next two people that they hire will be even worse than the two that just got the boot, but if you listen to sports radio at all, you would find that this move has been about the most popular thing the franchise has done in decades, and don't forget, that includes Mr. Met Bobble-head Day in the 60's.
So it really is true that the regular season in baseball is finally over and done with, and a handful of lucky teams have made it into post-season play, to the delight of their legions of fans in places like Tampa, Cincinnati, San Francisco, and of course New York - at least those fans of the pinstripe variety, that is. Just as the divisional series have gotten underway, this weekend also sees the home openers for the hockey season, giving their dozens of fans something to look forward to through the long cold winter in the wilderness outposts of Minnesota, Edmonton, Vancouver and the North Pole, where I hear their frozen-egg-nog-on-a-stick is enormously popular among the elves and reindeers at the rink, and I have no reason to doubt it. Pretty soon, even basketball will be back, as the hometown faithful hope against hope for better days ahead, except in New York, where they pretty much have given up on that idea, at least as far as the Knicks are concerned. Of course, I'm no sports doctor, and I don't even play one on television, but before they fire their General Manager and coach, I have one suggestion for the Knicks to make the fans happy, and that would be: frozen-beer-on-a-stick. Hey, don't knock it until you try it. Just ask the elves.
In other baseball news, and this of the more momentous variety, we get this alarming headline from the local newspaper, above a story about Alex Rodriguez of the Yankees:
==================
A-Rod's numbers down
but his heads still in a
good place after 2009
==================
Now, I'm not a language doctor, and I don't even play one on television. But that headline - just as it is, with no punctuation - makes it sound as if the baseball superstar has more than one head, which I'm pretty sure is not the case, or it would have no doubt made much more of a splash in the media. I can just envision this story:
[[ STEINBRENNER SIGNS TWO-HEADED SLUGGER
The owner chortles, "The other team's bullpen will be
useless against him, because with four eyes, he'll be able
to hit from both sides of the plate - at the same time!"
He went on to say, "Then after the game, he can do
two interviews at once, in English and Spanish
simultaneously, which will be a great time-saver, so
we can travel that much faster." Meanwhile, the
equipment manager downplayed the added expense of
extra baseball caps and batting helmets. ]]
Well, I have to say that actual headline is a classic example of "for want of an apostrophe, the meaning was lost," and that's not just a lot of frozen-beer-on-a-stick, believe me.
On the work front, we had an unexpected wardrobe malfunction that at least was more fizzle than sizzle in the prurient interest department. I always wear my sneakers in to work from the car, and change into my dress shoes once I get to my office. Yesterday, I noticed as I was walking around that there was a large gaping hole all along the side of the left shoe, so that my toe was sticking out for all the world to see, not that the world was clamoring for that sight, I can tell you that, but there it was. Obviously, I would not have worn those particular shoes to work if I had put them on at home instead, since I would have been aware of the hole ahead of time, but once I was already at work with them, there wasn't much I could do about it. I thought it was peculiar that only one of the shoes would develop this problem, since both of them would be the same age and getting the same amount of wear over the years, one supposes - unless I spent a lot of time hopping around on one foot, and the fact that I don't remember it is no guarantee that it didn't actually happen. So there I was, walking around and looking like a homeless person who should have a tin cup and be out panhandling on the street corner in their raggedy shoe with the toe sticking out. Honestly, you have something for 30 years, and suddenly it flies completely to pieces on you, I just can't understand it.
Last week, Bill and I were in Norwalk on business, and when we were finished (believe me, this made sense at the time) we decided to drive another 30 miles to have lunch at Denny's in Danbury, as long as we were up there. They were happy to see us, but not as happy as we were to be there, and we hunkered down to enjoy one of our special treats of traveling. They had recently unveiled some new blended tropical fruit drinks, and I'm always willing to try them if they're new, so I fearlessly ordered a Pacific Chiller, with the captivating fusion of coconut, lime, banana and orange, plus a splash of ice cold Sprite for an added boost. With that line-up of ingredients, frankly the last thing I was expecting our waitress to bring to the table was a tall glass full of fizzy blue liquid, and garnished with lemon and lime halves. It reminded me of comedian Larry Miller and his famous routine of the Five Stages of Drinking (and if you've never seen this before and you have 8 minutes, you should definitely check it out at -
YouTube - Larry Miller Drinking
and see for yourself) especially the part where he mentions the blue liquor, like something you would expect to see them drinking at a Vulcan wedding. I thought it was an interesting combination, but I found that it really didn't hold together as well as I might have hoped, and I also wondered about it turning my mouth blue, as well as the added possibility of that color scheme turning up later in the bathroom, if you know what I mean. Of course, like the New York Mets, I'm on board with the idea of "out with the old and in with the new," but as for me, I think I'll be staying with frozen-egg-nog-on-a-stick instead, thank you.
Elle
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 1:51 PM
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