A few quick, random thoughts to share.
Why do you have to verify that you are at least 21 years old before you access the website of a brewery? It’s not like you can pour a free sample out of your monitor once you put in your birthdate. And there’s no age requirement to watch the 8000 beer commercials that are on TV each day. Though it would be nice if you could lie about being under 21 and thus avoid those stupid Bud Light commercials.
This has been sitting in my Ideas list for awhile, and it’s a little moot now that Derrick Rose is playing again, but I wondered who the biggest bust was, him or Greg Oden. The quick, easy answer is Oden. He never played meaningful minutes in the NBA. But I think you can make an argument for Rose, simply because he did reach elite status in the NBA, winning an MVP, but each time his knees or ankles give up on him, he destroys his team’s chances. He’s obviously had a much, much better career, but have his health failures been more destructive to his team, thus making him a bigger bust? Even if Oden had been healthy, it’s a guard-oriented league now. I’m not sure he ever would have been an MVP-caliber player.
I’ve had a weird clothing dilemma since M. started CYO sports. Her school colors are purple and gold, with purple being the dominant color. When we get a notice that we can order spirit wear, I look through the adult items, wondering if I should get a shirt to wear at games to support the team, especially since I’m usually keeping score. But I just can’t wear purple. It has nothing to do with K-State being a purple school. I just do not dig the color. There are usually some white or black options in the dad shirt section, but I never like them, either.
I guess I should be glad that our girls don’t go to St. P’s arch rival school. They’re the Tigers, wear black and gold, and use the Missouri tiger-head logo. There would be all kinds of problems with that!
Recently, our governor was signing some bill into law or cutting a ribbon or some other ceremonial duty of his office, and mentioned, in his comments, that the people of Indiana were the “greatest people in the country.” I love it when politicians do this.
I love it partially because it’s one of those absolutely meaningless things politicians, from all points on the ideological compass, say that they pretend has great importance. They set their jaws and say it with great conviction, despite the truth that there’s no way to prove that the people of one state are any better than the folks from another. You can’t afford not to make those trite, banal comments though. Someone will insist that you hate your city/state/country if you don’t.
I also love it because it demonstrates the weirdness of human nature. A lot of people really care about these kinds of things. They get all bent out of shape if the people from the next suburb over claim their town is a better place to live. Or if the residents that live just across an imaginary, arbitrary line claim to live in the finest state in the union. Or, God forbid, if someone from another country claims theirs to be the greatest on Earth. (Or, cough cough, comparing the fan base of the team you support to that of another team.)
I get having pride in where you live. We all want to have the cleanest water, clearest skies, best roads and parks, healthiest economies, safest living conditions, etc. etc. etc.
But it always cracks me up when people from Indiana (or wherever) honestly think they’re better than those rednecks from over in Ohio.
Finally, each year at St. P’s the second graders have a spring bake sale to raise money for a Latin American missionary project the parish has. A year ago M. woke up on bake sale day complaining of an upset stomach. She wanted to give school a shot, though. About five minutes after I got back home I got a call saying she had thrown up.
Today was this year’s bake sale. Before we left for school, M. said, “I sure hope I don’t get sick today like I did at the last bake sale!”
At 2:30 I got a call saying she was in the office with a very upset stomach and I should probably come pick her up early. At least she got to buy cookies this time. When I walked into the office, I said, “You jinxed yourself!” She’s already worried about next year’s bake sale day.
Kentucky is the obvious exception. People in Indiana are much better than those hillbillies. ↩