Yesterday morning, I pulled myself out of bed and groggily made my way to the kitchen coffee pot. While catching up on some job-related paperwork, I downed three cups of the mental stimulant. I was almost fully awake as the 9:30 kickoff approached between the Ravens and Jaguars. I prepared the finishing touches on my Fan Duel entries for the day and then kicked back in my recliner.
As "The Star Spangled Banner" emerged from the PA system at London's Wembly Stadium, the TV cameras began to pan around to the sidelines of both teams. And then I saw what I was desperately hoping not to see. Several of the players on both teams were taking a knee. As the camera focused in on the Ravens sideline, it showed that former Raven, Ray Lewis, was taking two knees. (Kind of ironic that a guy who was involved in the double murder of two young black men is protesting brutality against young black men).
Before I go any further, let me throw out this disclaimer: I fully support the right for any American to peacefully protest. However, it doesn't mean that I have to agree with or like it.
This whole kneeling during the Anthem thing is a very sensitive subject for many people. I personally still get goosebumps every time I hear "The Star Spangled Banner". So, it shouldn't come as a surprise that it pisses me off when I see anyone intentionally sitting it out. I don't know, maybe I've got emotional issues. But I can't help the way I feel.
Supporters of the "kneel-down" will say that I'm missing the main point. To be fair, it's kind of hard to keep track of any point in this modern "controversy-du-jour" society. But from what I recall, this whole thing started with 49er's quarterback, Colin Kaepernick, taking a knee to protest police brutality against blacks. Personally, I think this narrative has been fueled by the media (aka Fake News) to generate the reactions we're seeing today. For instance, last year, twice as many whites were killed by police. But, in an effort to paint their own story, we're fed this narrative that the police are targeting only innocent young black men. The root of the problem is more complex, so it's largely ignored. Instead, the low-hanging fruit is picked and the police become the scapegoat for the problems in the black community. (I'm sorry, what was the main point again?)
I've talked about police brutality in the past. In a nut shell, I don't support rogue cops who take the law into their own hands. I have heard the first hand stories from people (mostly white, as shocking as that may sound) who have been roughed up by police. I'm not denying that it happens. However, I also believe that the overwhelming majority of cops are good people who perform a thankless but stellar job. But the stories of heroics and good things don't sell quite as well as the race-baiting ones.
Aside from all of this, sports and entertainment are supposed to give us a much needed break from all of the bullshit going on in the world. So, when I tune into a football game. the only thing that I want to anger me is a bad call by the ref or perhaps Joe Flacco's inability to scramble out of the pocket. But if my blood pressure is already at it's limit before kickoff, I think I'll have to pass.
Most NFL owners have come out in support of the protests. They almost have to put on a happy face and take the politically correct approach here. But you know damn well, that behind closed doors, they're fuming! In the upcoming days, they'll try their best to control the damage to their disgruntled fan base. But is it too late? Time will tell.
I feel bad for the potential impact that this is going to have on small business. The boycott of the NFL will ultimately affect bars, merchandisers and even grocery stores. Sunday football is a big deal for many of these folks. If the crowd dries up, it's inevitably going to affect their bottom line. But what do the players care? They've already got their millions.
This latest sideshow is being presented as a retaliatory jab at the President. Some may even say it's a "teaching moment". But when you take a knee during your country's national anthem in a foreign country, I see more as a Dixie Chicks moment.
Football has no doubt brought me some great times through years. But good things sometimes have to come to an end. So, to the NFL...........While I fully support your right to protest, I respectfully disagree with the manner in which you've chosen to do so. So, as we part ways, I ask you to give me the same courtesy while I take a knee on you...
kw
Monday, September 25, 2017
Sunday, June 18, 2017
Remembering Dad on Father's Day
After taking countless training classes in different parts of the country over the past 25+ years, this is the first time I wound up in North Carolina. So, on the morning of my first Father's Day since my Dad's passing, I ironically find myself sitting in a hotel room in Raleigh, a short distance from his hometown of Winston-Salem
Making small talk with some of the locals in the hotel lobby, their heavy southern drawls and friendly demeanor instantly made me think of my Dad. These memories kicked into high gear when I passed a beverage refrigerator in the hotel gift shop. Through the glass door, I saw a bottle of Cheerwine. I didn't know that they even made this stuff anymore. When I was a kid, every summer my Dad would take us to North Carolina to visit the relatives. On the way there , we would inevitably stop at a gas station or convenience store. My Dad would fish some spare change out of his pocket and send me over to the the soda machine. I would consider the usual Coke and Pepsi options. But almost always, I would hit the Cheerwine button. I haven't had one of these things in decades but it's comforting to know that it's still out there.
The effect of not having my father here today is quite heavy. I miss his rants about the Ravens. I miss seeing him shuffle though his newspaper clippings. I miss watching him come unglued and saying, "Dammit Kenny, you're missing my point!". I miss his impromptu lectures on the art of lawn mower repair (I used to love the way he referred to a carburetor as a "cobberator"). I miss his spontaneous visits to my house via his beloved Chevy pick-up truck. And I especially miss the family dinners at his house on Tuesday nights.
Dad gave me plenty of good advice through the years. But there are two pieces that come immediately to mind. When I was younger (and much more hard-headed), he told me that you can't learn anything while you're lips are moving. He also told me that if you don't make mistakes, you're not doing much. They sounded kind of crazy back then, but I eventually figured out what he was trying to say.
As I progress through this day, I'll be thinking of my father often. I'm sure I'll get a little emotional at times. But I'll also be doing a lot of grinning as I remember all those great times that made him so special. I've accepted the fact that I'll never see him again. But he will always live in my heart through all of the memories. I plan to toast him later with that cold bottle of Cheerwine. Until then....Happy Father's Day, Dad.
kw
Making small talk with some of the locals in the hotel lobby, their heavy southern drawls and friendly demeanor instantly made me think of my Dad. These memories kicked into high gear when I passed a beverage refrigerator in the hotel gift shop. Through the glass door, I saw a bottle of Cheerwine. I didn't know that they even made this stuff anymore. When I was a kid, every summer my Dad would take us to North Carolina to visit the relatives. On the way there , we would inevitably stop at a gas station or convenience store. My Dad would fish some spare change out of his pocket and send me over to the the soda machine. I would consider the usual Coke and Pepsi options. But almost always, I would hit the Cheerwine button. I haven't had one of these things in decades but it's comforting to know that it's still out there.
The effect of not having my father here today is quite heavy. I miss his rants about the Ravens. I miss seeing him shuffle though his newspaper clippings. I miss watching him come unglued and saying, "Dammit Kenny, you're missing my point!". I miss his impromptu lectures on the art of lawn mower repair (I used to love the way he referred to a carburetor as a "cobberator"). I miss his spontaneous visits to my house via his beloved Chevy pick-up truck. And I especially miss the family dinners at his house on Tuesday nights.
Dad gave me plenty of good advice through the years. But there are two pieces that come immediately to mind. When I was younger (and much more hard-headed), he told me that you can't learn anything while you're lips are moving. He also told me that if you don't make mistakes, you're not doing much. They sounded kind of crazy back then, but I eventually figured out what he was trying to say.
As I progress through this day, I'll be thinking of my father often. I'm sure I'll get a little emotional at times. But I'll also be doing a lot of grinning as I remember all those great times that made him so special. I've accepted the fact that I'll never see him again. But he will always live in my heart through all of the memories. I plan to toast him later with that cold bottle of Cheerwine. Until then....Happy Father's Day, Dad.
kw
Sunday, April 9, 2017
Stevie Nicks - Baltimore 2017
A couple weeks ago, Tina and I ventured into Baltimore city to catch Stevie Nicks and The Pretenders at the Royal Farms Arena (At the risk of showing my age, I still catch myself calling it the Baltimore Civic Center). After parking the car, we made our way over to the arena. A slight mist greeted us along the way. This caused Tina to go into a bit of a panic. You see, she had to look perfect for Stevie and the moisture in the air was putting that scenario in serious jeopardy. Frizzy hair in the presence of Stevie would be absolutely devastating! So, left in the elements without the aid of an umbrella, I pretended to be a gentleman and walked in front of her in an effort to absorb as much of the mist as possible.
Entering the arena, we observed several middle-aged women dressed in lacy outfits and fancy top-hats. Their laborious attempts to emulate Stevie Nicks was duly noted. With this being said, I didn't see a whole lotta representation from the Chrissy Hynde crowd (for those who don't know, she is the lead singer for The Pretenders). I guess it was fitting since, a short time later, we were informed that Chrissy was sick and The Pretenders would not be performing at this show. There was some disappointment but Tina saw it as an opportunity to spend more time with Stevie.
Now, to say Tina is obsessed with Stevie Nicks is an understatement. Anytime "Edge of Seventeen" comes across the radio, Tina responds as if she just hit the Mega-Millions. Knowing that she's heard the song no less than 15,034 times, I ask her if it ever gets old. She just gives me a cold stare and says, "Of course, not! It's Stevie!"
Inside the venue, we take our seats. We have a pretty good vantage point in the middle of the floor section. We are soon greeted by three women from Pennsylvania who take the seats next to us. One of the women tells Tina that she was really disappointed that The Pretenders won't be preforming. Tina tells her that she's actually glad because she doesn't care much for Chrissy Hynde and that she's only there to see Stevie. Oh boy, it never ends.......
Well, the show starts around 8 o'clock. This particular tour centered around songs that were "kept in the vault" throughout Stevie's career. Although she would still play her popular songs, there would also be a lot of obscure songs. While I was hearing many of the songs for the first time, Tina knew every word to them. In between songs, Stevie spent a lot of time telling stories and talking about the meanings behind the songs. As a bit of a storyteller myself, I really enjoyed this part of the show.
As I surveyed the crowd, it was interesting to see how the dynamic has changed through the years. The images of drunk, rowdy kids had progressed to quiet, middle-aged folks, many using canes to make their way to their seats. At one point, I thought I smelled a hint of medicinal marijuana smoke but I couldn't be sure.
Perhaps the most dramatic image of age contrast came about mid-way through the concert. There was a small commotion in the aisle just to the right of our seats. I walked towards the aisle to see what was going on. I saw a husky woman flailing her arms like a traffic cop. She was telling everyone to be careful where they walked. Trying to figure out what was going on, I asked her, "What's going on?"
She pointed to the floor but it was dark. It was so dark so I couldn't really see what was down there. Then, one of the ushers came over and put a flashlight on the area. It was the upper plate of someone's dentures!
That's right, someone dropped their teeth!
I have been to many, many shows. I have seen people lose their phones. I have seen people lose their tempers. I have seen drunken people lose their balance. And I have even seen a few uninhibited women lose their tops. But up until this point, I have never seen someone lose their dentures.
Moving on......
The show overall was very enjoyable. Stevie Nicks seemed to be in an especially good mood. This projected a positive vibe throughout the crowd. When she introduced "Gold Dust Woman" (my personal favorite), the anticipation was more than Tina could handle. She made her predictable bee-line towards the front of the stage. Having been in this situation many times before, I just causally waved to her as she rolled out. My only wish is that the night doesn't end with me shelling out bail money.
Watching Stevie perform "Gold Dust Woman" is worth the price of admission. The song is very thought-provoking has a certain eeriness to it. But the passion that Stevie adds to the live performance takes it to another level. If I feel this way about it, I can only imagine the way Tina is feeling. She's probably near a state of hypnosis at this point.
After an extended encore, the show ended around 10:30. As the house lights came on, I saw Tina making her way back to our seats. She told me that she got right up front for a few songs and shared a special moment with Stevie. I'm not really sure what that means. And I'm not really sure that I want to know. But nonetheless, it was a really good show. Tina's "Stevie fix" was satisfied for the night. And as a bonus, the rain had given way to a pleasant evening for our walk back to the parking garage....
kw
Entering the arena, we observed several middle-aged women dressed in lacy outfits and fancy top-hats. Their laborious attempts to emulate Stevie Nicks was duly noted. With this being said, I didn't see a whole lotta representation from the Chrissy Hynde crowd (for those who don't know, she is the lead singer for The Pretenders). I guess it was fitting since, a short time later, we were informed that Chrissy was sick and The Pretenders would not be performing at this show. There was some disappointment but Tina saw it as an opportunity to spend more time with Stevie.
Now, to say Tina is obsessed with Stevie Nicks is an understatement. Anytime "Edge of Seventeen" comes across the radio, Tina responds as if she just hit the Mega-Millions. Knowing that she's heard the song no less than 15,034 times, I ask her if it ever gets old. She just gives me a cold stare and says, "Of course, not! It's Stevie!"
Inside the venue, we take our seats. We have a pretty good vantage point in the middle of the floor section. We are soon greeted by three women from Pennsylvania who take the seats next to us. One of the women tells Tina that she was really disappointed that The Pretenders won't be preforming. Tina tells her that she's actually glad because she doesn't care much for Chrissy Hynde and that she's only there to see Stevie. Oh boy, it never ends.......
Well, the show starts around 8 o'clock. This particular tour centered around songs that were "kept in the vault" throughout Stevie's career. Although she would still play her popular songs, there would also be a lot of obscure songs. While I was hearing many of the songs for the first time, Tina knew every word to them. In between songs, Stevie spent a lot of time telling stories and talking about the meanings behind the songs. As a bit of a storyteller myself, I really enjoyed this part of the show.
As I surveyed the crowd, it was interesting to see how the dynamic has changed through the years. The images of drunk, rowdy kids had progressed to quiet, middle-aged folks, many using canes to make their way to their seats. At one point, I thought I smelled a hint of medicinal marijuana smoke but I couldn't be sure.
Perhaps the most dramatic image of age contrast came about mid-way through the concert. There was a small commotion in the aisle just to the right of our seats. I walked towards the aisle to see what was going on. I saw a husky woman flailing her arms like a traffic cop. She was telling everyone to be careful where they walked. Trying to figure out what was going on, I asked her, "What's going on?"
She pointed to the floor but it was dark. It was so dark so I couldn't really see what was down there. Then, one of the ushers came over and put a flashlight on the area. It was the upper plate of someone's dentures!
That's right, someone dropped their teeth!
I have been to many, many shows. I have seen people lose their phones. I have seen people lose their tempers. I have seen drunken people lose their balance. And I have even seen a few uninhibited women lose their tops. But up until this point, I have never seen someone lose their dentures.
Moving on......
The show overall was very enjoyable. Stevie Nicks seemed to be in an especially good mood. This projected a positive vibe throughout the crowd. When she introduced "Gold Dust Woman" (my personal favorite), the anticipation was more than Tina could handle. She made her predictable bee-line towards the front of the stage. Having been in this situation many times before, I just causally waved to her as she rolled out. My only wish is that the night doesn't end with me shelling out bail money.
Watching Stevie perform "Gold Dust Woman" is worth the price of admission. The song is very thought-provoking has a certain eeriness to it. But the passion that Stevie adds to the live performance takes it to another level. If I feel this way about it, I can only imagine the way Tina is feeling. She's probably near a state of hypnosis at this point.
After an extended encore, the show ended around 10:30. As the house lights came on, I saw Tina making her way back to our seats. She told me that she got right up front for a few songs and shared a special moment with Stevie. I'm not really sure what that means. And I'm not really sure that I want to know. But nonetheless, it was a really good show. Tina's "Stevie fix" was satisfied for the night. And as a bonus, the rain had given way to a pleasant evening for our walk back to the parking garage....
kw
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Scents of a Springtime Drive
Yesterday afternoon, I was driving along with the windows down. The weather was unseasonably warm for an early spring day. Thinking of the classic Foghat song, it was a great opportunity for a slow ride and taking it easy. As I made my way across a local drawbridge, the smell of the water below made me think of springtime and all of the good things that come along with it. A small scattering of boaters on the creek reinforced the feeling.
Making my way to the other side of the bridge, the smell of grilled steak filled the air. Passing by a local BBQ place, I fought the urge to stop for a pit beef sandwich. But I knew I couldn't thoroughly enjoy an authentic pit beef sandwich without a cold beer So, knowing that I had places to go and people to see, I continued on my journey.
At some point, an unwelcome stench began to fill the cabin of my car. I'm not sure what it was or where it was coming from. All I can tell you is that it was putrid and it ambushed me with reckless abandon. If I had to describe it, I would say that it smelled like something crawled up a skunk's ass and died. It was actually worse than that. It smelled like whatever was up that skunk's ass was two weeks into the decomposition stage. I shook my head from side to side in an effort to capture any available pocket of fresh air. But the attempt was futile and I desperately fought the urge to gag. I instinctively rolled up the windows but this only trapped the tainted air that was already inside the car. (This situation would have been really uncomfortable if I would have had passengers in the car as everyone would have suspected that someone had floated a biscuit.) So anyway, I rolled the windows back down, including the ones in the back. and I punched the accelerator in hopes of generating maximum airflow. I eventually made it through the "turbulence" and came out the other side stunned but still conscious. As I stopped at a red light, I tried to figure out what the hell had just assaulted my nasal passage.
Well, the smorgasbord of smells wasn't quite over just yet. As I sat at the light in a state of semi-consciousness, the distinct aroma of marijuana presented itself. While I'm not a pot smoker, I have to admit, it was a much better smell than what I had experienced a few minutes ago. The source of the smoke was the car in front of me. It contained a group of youngsters who appeared to be auditioning for the remake of "Up In Smoke". I thought that I heard "Low Rider" in the distance, but this could have just been my imagination. As the sweet smoke made it's way into to my vehicle, my urge for pit beef slowly transitioned to a craving for Taco flavored Doritos. Knowing that I was dangerously close to catching a contact-high, I pulled into the next lane to get upwind. As I changed positions, The Chum Gang cut across two lanes of traffic and made a bee-line towards a Royal Farms store. Their quest for munchies obviously outweighed any regard for public safety.
While all of this was going on, I remembered that I had one of those tree-shaped air fresheners in the glove box. So, I opened it and hung it on my rear view mirror. Quickly, all of the other smells were flushed away by the fragrance of synthetic vanilla. Figuring that this was about as good as it was going to get, I took a deep breath made the most of it.....
kw
Making my way to the other side of the bridge, the smell of grilled steak filled the air. Passing by a local BBQ place, I fought the urge to stop for a pit beef sandwich. But I knew I couldn't thoroughly enjoy an authentic pit beef sandwich without a cold beer So, knowing that I had places to go and people to see, I continued on my journey.
At some point, an unwelcome stench began to fill the cabin of my car. I'm not sure what it was or where it was coming from. All I can tell you is that it was putrid and it ambushed me with reckless abandon. If I had to describe it, I would say that it smelled like something crawled up a skunk's ass and died. It was actually worse than that. It smelled like whatever was up that skunk's ass was two weeks into the decomposition stage. I shook my head from side to side in an effort to capture any available pocket of fresh air. But the attempt was futile and I desperately fought the urge to gag. I instinctively rolled up the windows but this only trapped the tainted air that was already inside the car. (This situation would have been really uncomfortable if I would have had passengers in the car as everyone would have suspected that someone had floated a biscuit.) So anyway, I rolled the windows back down, including the ones in the back. and I punched the accelerator in hopes of generating maximum airflow. I eventually made it through the "turbulence" and came out the other side stunned but still conscious. As I stopped at a red light, I tried to figure out what the hell had just assaulted my nasal passage.
Well, the smorgasbord of smells wasn't quite over just yet. As I sat at the light in a state of semi-consciousness, the distinct aroma of marijuana presented itself. While I'm not a pot smoker, I have to admit, it was a much better smell than what I had experienced a few minutes ago. The source of the smoke was the car in front of me. It contained a group of youngsters who appeared to be auditioning for the remake of "Up In Smoke". I thought that I heard "Low Rider" in the distance, but this could have just been my imagination. As the sweet smoke made it's way into to my vehicle, my urge for pit beef slowly transitioned to a craving for Taco flavored Doritos. Knowing that I was dangerously close to catching a contact-high, I pulled into the next lane to get upwind. As I changed positions, The Chum Gang cut across two lanes of traffic and made a bee-line towards a Royal Farms store. Their quest for munchies obviously outweighed any regard for public safety.
While all of this was going on, I remembered that I had one of those tree-shaped air fresheners in the glove box. So, I opened it and hung it on my rear view mirror. Quickly, all of the other smells were flushed away by the fragrance of synthetic vanilla. Figuring that this was about as good as it was going to get, I took a deep breath made the most of it.....
kw
Sunday, March 5, 2017
A Visit to The Library
So, yesterday I found myself at a local library. Yeah, yeah, I know.....with Amazon Prime and the internet, what am I doing at the library? Just stay with me here...
A trip to the library always gives me a feeling of nostalgia. Back when I was a kid, I used to spend countless hours in our local Enoch Pratt library. There, I read about childhood heroes like Brooks Robinson and Evil Knievel while escaping from elements of the hot, humid Baltimore summer. I would sometimes "prepare" for an afternoon baseball game by reading up on how to throw a curve-ball or on the best approach in the batter's box. I'm not sure if any of these really helped me, but I always entered the game thinking that I had a clear mental edge over the competition.
Anyway, back to the present......
I walk into the local library yesterday and I'm almost knee-capped by two little rugrats who have transformed the entrance into their own little playground. Scattered books occupied the floor as the kids danced around them. The parents were nowhere to be seen. If John Walsh happened to walk in, they would have gotten a serious tongue-lashing. I gingerly step over a screaming kid and make my way toward the main area.
Surprisingly, the place is bustling with activity on this Saturday morning. I was somewhat surprised and began to wonder if they were giving away free McMuffins or something of the sort.
I made my way over to the audio-book section. Spending a ridiculous amount of time on any given week in DC traffic, I'll try almost anything to help ease the pain. Since drinking behind the wheel is heavily frowned upon, I rely on audio-books and music to help pass the time. The is where the library can be a valuable yet economical resource. Sure, I can afford to buy my own books and music. But since I pay a boatload of taxes to help fund the public libraries, why not use them? Call me frugally cheap but I'm ok with it.
As I pass through a seating area, I hear a group of older men have an loud, animated conversation. I guess they didn't get the memo about the library being a quiet place. These guys reminded me of the senior citizens that hang out all day at the Dunkin' Donuts. Of course, this gives ever more credibility to my McMuffin give-away theory.
These guys were yucking it up like they were at a corner bar during the corn-hole finals. Amazingly, even though they could be heard throughout the library, no one really seemed to be bothered by their commotion. As one of them would make a comment that dangerously toed the line of "offensibilty", the others would slap him on the back and laugh like they were listening to Richard Pryor.
And then, just when you think things couldn't get any louder, one of the guys' phones rings. It wasn't just any ring either. The piercing tone reverberated through the room like it was being blasted out of a Marshall stack. And then, in between laughs, the guy retracts the phone out of his pocket and announces, "Shit man!, Sorry guys, I gotta take this."
I can only imagine what revolutionary business deal awaited on the other end of the virtual line. Well, everyone would soon know. The guy answered the call and put it on speaker phone! As the guy initiates the one-on-one call, it soon becomes a conference call as the other members of the Breakfast Club began to chime in. At first, my reaction was WTF. But it soon transitioned into a comedic episode worthy of a Saturday Night Live skit. These guys were oblivious to any one else in the room. If these guys were having this good of a time at the library, I can only imagine what kind of party they throw at the Dunkin' Donuts.
I just shook my head as I gathered my items. I could still hear their slapstick routine as I walked out the door. I can hardly wait to see what's in store for me on the next visit....
kw
A trip to the library always gives me a feeling of nostalgia. Back when I was a kid, I used to spend countless hours in our local Enoch Pratt library. There, I read about childhood heroes like Brooks Robinson and Evil Knievel while escaping from elements of the hot, humid Baltimore summer. I would sometimes "prepare" for an afternoon baseball game by reading up on how to throw a curve-ball or on the best approach in the batter's box. I'm not sure if any of these really helped me, but I always entered the game thinking that I had a clear mental edge over the competition.
Anyway, back to the present......
I walk into the local library yesterday and I'm almost knee-capped by two little rugrats who have transformed the entrance into their own little playground. Scattered books occupied the floor as the kids danced around them. The parents were nowhere to be seen. If John Walsh happened to walk in, they would have gotten a serious tongue-lashing. I gingerly step over a screaming kid and make my way toward the main area.
Surprisingly, the place is bustling with activity on this Saturday morning. I was somewhat surprised and began to wonder if they were giving away free McMuffins or something of the sort.
I made my way over to the audio-book section. Spending a ridiculous amount of time on any given week in DC traffic, I'll try almost anything to help ease the pain. Since drinking behind the wheel is heavily frowned upon, I rely on audio-books and music to help pass the time. The is where the library can be a valuable yet economical resource. Sure, I can afford to buy my own books and music. But since I pay a boatload of taxes to help fund the public libraries, why not use them? Call me frugally cheap but I'm ok with it.
As I pass through a seating area, I hear a group of older men have an loud, animated conversation. I guess they didn't get the memo about the library being a quiet place. These guys reminded me of the senior citizens that hang out all day at the Dunkin' Donuts. Of course, this gives ever more credibility to my McMuffin give-away theory.
These guys were yucking it up like they were at a corner bar during the corn-hole finals. Amazingly, even though they could be heard throughout the library, no one really seemed to be bothered by their commotion. As one of them would make a comment that dangerously toed the line of "offensibilty", the others would slap him on the back and laugh like they were listening to Richard Pryor.
And then, just when you think things couldn't get any louder, one of the guys' phones rings. It wasn't just any ring either. The piercing tone reverberated through the room like it was being blasted out of a Marshall stack. And then, in between laughs, the guy retracts the phone out of his pocket and announces, "Shit man!, Sorry guys, I gotta take this."
I can only imagine what revolutionary business deal awaited on the other end of the virtual line. Well, everyone would soon know. The guy answered the call and put it on speaker phone! As the guy initiates the one-on-one call, it soon becomes a conference call as the other members of the Breakfast Club began to chime in. At first, my reaction was WTF. But it soon transitioned into a comedic episode worthy of a Saturday Night Live skit. These guys were oblivious to any one else in the room. If these guys were having this good of a time at the library, I can only imagine what kind of party they throw at the Dunkin' Donuts.
I just shook my head as I gathered my items. I could still hear their slapstick routine as I walked out the door. I can hardly wait to see what's in store for me on the next visit....
kw
Sunday, February 5, 2017
Prelude To Super Bowl LI
With Super Bowl 51 (or is it LI?) just hours away, football fans across the country are standing in grocery store lines with bags of Doritos, French onion dip and other heart-healthy snacks. The only item of business left before heading home is a quick stop at the local liquor store to secure a few 30-packs of cheap beer (and perhaps one 6-pack of quality IPA). As kick-off approaches, there will be a race to the finish line between the blood-alcohol and cholesterol levels.
I used to really get into Super Bowl Sunday. I would invite the boys over around mid-afternoon and we would shoot pool, play cards and whatever else boys. When we heard the National Anthem coming from the TV, we knew it was time to scope out our individual seats in the man cave. This is where we would cheer and spew out random profanity for the next few hours.
Nowadays, unless my home team is playing, the Super bowl is just another Sunday to me. I don't know, maybe it's just a sign of getting old. But the thought of partying late into Sunday night and having to get up early for work Monday morning doesn't appeal to me so much any more. I might venture out for the game, but more than likely, I'll just watch the game alone and be in bed shortly thereafter. (When did this happen to me??).
Of course, the Patriots are playing the Falcons in this year's contest. Yeah, yeah, I know, f*&k the Patriots. But love them or hate, they have walked the walk over the past 10-15 years. They have effectively become the NY Yankees of football. So, while there's no denying that they've been a great team, it's still perfectly acceptable to hate them. The Pats are a 3-point favorite in today's game but I expect the margin of victory to be greater than that. As much as it pains me to say it, expect to see Tom Brady win his 5th Super Bowl ring tonight.
There will, no doubt, be some kind of political grandstanding at today's event. Lady Gaga, who is no stranger to controversy, will be the main attraction at the halftime show. After last year's racially charged and polarizing performance by Beyonce, expect Lady Gaga to try to one-up her this year with some type of anti-Trump message. I think it's inevitable...
I'm not sure why politics has to be a part of a football game. Some people will claim that the athletes have a big stage and should use the opportunity to promote their beliefs/causes. Personally, I think it's bullshit. I want to watch a football game. Unless it relates to the game, I really don't give a rat's ass what a performer or athlete has to say. So, just shut up and and sing/play! And if any of these ungrateful pricks "takes a knee" during the National Anthem, I'm going to hurl a beer can at the TV. And if it happens to be one of my quality IPA's, I'm really going to be pissed!
Ok, I'm taking a deep breath now......
Whatever you choose to do tonight or wherever you choose to do it, please be safe out there. Hopefully, we'll witness a great game with a minimal amount of controversy. Cheers, my friends!
kw
I used to really get into Super Bowl Sunday. I would invite the boys over around mid-afternoon and we would shoot pool, play cards and whatever else boys. When we heard the National Anthem coming from the TV, we knew it was time to scope out our individual seats in the man cave. This is where we would cheer and spew out random profanity for the next few hours.
Nowadays, unless my home team is playing, the Super bowl is just another Sunday to me. I don't know, maybe it's just a sign of getting old. But the thought of partying late into Sunday night and having to get up early for work Monday morning doesn't appeal to me so much any more. I might venture out for the game, but more than likely, I'll just watch the game alone and be in bed shortly thereafter. (When did this happen to me??).
Of course, the Patriots are playing the Falcons in this year's contest. Yeah, yeah, I know, f*&k the Patriots. But love them or hate, they have walked the walk over the past 10-15 years. They have effectively become the NY Yankees of football. So, while there's no denying that they've been a great team, it's still perfectly acceptable to hate them. The Pats are a 3-point favorite in today's game but I expect the margin of victory to be greater than that. As much as it pains me to say it, expect to see Tom Brady win his 5th Super Bowl ring tonight.
There will, no doubt, be some kind of political grandstanding at today's event. Lady Gaga, who is no stranger to controversy, will be the main attraction at the halftime show. After last year's racially charged and polarizing performance by Beyonce, expect Lady Gaga to try to one-up her this year with some type of anti-Trump message. I think it's inevitable...
I'm not sure why politics has to be a part of a football game. Some people will claim that the athletes have a big stage and should use the opportunity to promote their beliefs/causes. Personally, I think it's bullshit. I want to watch a football game. Unless it relates to the game, I really don't give a rat's ass what a performer or athlete has to say. So, just shut up and and sing/play! And if any of these ungrateful pricks "takes a knee" during the National Anthem, I'm going to hurl a beer can at the TV. And if it happens to be one of my quality IPA's, I'm really going to be pissed!
Ok, I'm taking a deep breath now......
Whatever you choose to do tonight or wherever you choose to do it, please be safe out there. Hopefully, we'll witness a great game with a minimal amount of controversy. Cheers, my friends!
kw
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Stop The Noise In Here!
Way back when I was in elementary school, there was a substitute teacher (I can't remember her name, so I'll just call her Mrs. C) who would lose it whenever any chatter took place in the classroom. Any side conversations would come to an instant halt when she would shout, "I SAID STOP THE NOISE IN HERE!!"
It was a thunderous command that could be heard down the entire hallway of the old school building. I imagined students in other classrooms jumping from their seats as their daydreams were abruptly interrupted.
Mrs. C was a stout woman who resembled Shirley from the old 70's sit-com "What's Happening". So, when she spoke, people tended to listen. For the most part, she was jolly woman. She often joked and seemed to have a genuine bond with the girls in the class. But when she was giving instructions, it was all business.
She would often strut around the room in these skin-tight polyester pants. They were always a tan color. I'm mot sure if she had several pairs or she wore the same pair every day. This was back in the 70's and times were tight, so it could have been the latter. But anyway, with every ass-dimple on full display, she methodically walked down each aisle looking for an unsuspecting victim. If she ventured upon a distracted student, she would unleash the bullhorn:
"WHATCO DOIN', MR WILSON? WE GOTTA CLASS GOIN' ON HERE! I SAID STOP THE NOISE IN HERE! PAY ATTENTION, BOY!!"
After getting blasted from such a close proximity, my ears were ringing like I just set off an M80 in the broom closet. I would try to shake the cobwebs off as I eagerly waited for Mrs. C to pass me.
This would cause the other students to react with random giggles and comments. This only fueled the fire as it triggered another spontaneous round from Mrs. C ....."I SAID STOP THE NOISE IN HERE!!!" She would then look around the room with an icy gaze just in case anyone thought she was playing. She was like a Drill Sargent laying down the law to the new recruits. It was intense!
When she really got pissed, her head would start to shake and her eyes turned into laser beams. She looked like a heavyweight boxer during a pre-match stare-down. We always felt the urge to laugh but we didn't dare walk down that dark alley.
I especially liked it when she would scream, "DON'T MAKE ME RAISE MY VOICE, Y'ALL!" Even at a young age, I fully appreciated the comedic irony in her statement. It's kind of like when someone asks, "Can I ask you a question?"
Thinking of those powerful pipes, I sit here and wonder if Mrs. C ever moved onto bigger things. She could have probably given Aretha Franklin a run for her money on the big stage. Or maybe she got a job as the PA system at a large sports arena. The late Sam Kinison would have absolutely loved Mrs. C.
Today's kids don't get to experience these types of things. If modern educators raise their voice to the little snowflakes, it would probably initiate a visit from the school board, the ACLU and at least two reps from Child Protective Services. So, all we have left are the survivor stories from those of us who lived it....
kw
It was a thunderous command that could be heard down the entire hallway of the old school building. I imagined students in other classrooms jumping from their seats as their daydreams were abruptly interrupted.
Mrs. C was a stout woman who resembled Shirley from the old 70's sit-com "What's Happening". So, when she spoke, people tended to listen. For the most part, she was jolly woman. She often joked and seemed to have a genuine bond with the girls in the class. But when she was giving instructions, it was all business.
She would often strut around the room in these skin-tight polyester pants. They were always a tan color. I'm mot sure if she had several pairs or she wore the same pair every day. This was back in the 70's and times were tight, so it could have been the latter. But anyway, with every ass-dimple on full display, she methodically walked down each aisle looking for an unsuspecting victim. If she ventured upon a distracted student, she would unleash the bullhorn:
"WHATCO DOIN', MR WILSON? WE GOTTA CLASS GOIN' ON HERE! I SAID STOP THE NOISE IN HERE! PAY ATTENTION, BOY!!"
After getting blasted from such a close proximity, my ears were ringing like I just set off an M80 in the broom closet. I would try to shake the cobwebs off as I eagerly waited for Mrs. C to pass me.
This would cause the other students to react with random giggles and comments. This only fueled the fire as it triggered another spontaneous round from Mrs. C ....."I SAID STOP THE NOISE IN HERE!!!" She would then look around the room with an icy gaze just in case anyone thought she was playing. She was like a Drill Sargent laying down the law to the new recruits. It was intense!
When she really got pissed, her head would start to shake and her eyes turned into laser beams. She looked like a heavyweight boxer during a pre-match stare-down. We always felt the urge to laugh but we didn't dare walk down that dark alley.
I especially liked it when she would scream, "DON'T MAKE ME RAISE MY VOICE, Y'ALL!" Even at a young age, I fully appreciated the comedic irony in her statement. It's kind of like when someone asks, "Can I ask you a question?"
Thinking of those powerful pipes, I sit here and wonder if Mrs. C ever moved onto bigger things. She could have probably given Aretha Franklin a run for her money on the big stage. Or maybe she got a job as the PA system at a large sports arena. The late Sam Kinison would have absolutely loved Mrs. C.
Today's kids don't get to experience these types of things. If modern educators raise their voice to the little snowflakes, it would probably initiate a visit from the school board, the ACLU and at least two reps from Child Protective Services. So, all we have left are the survivor stories from those of us who lived it....
kw
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