Either six years or 37 years

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Everybody has a story about what he or she did during the pandemic to stay sharp or stay sane or however we want to describe it.

Hard to believe it, but that was six years ago, and I don’t think I’ve ever disclosed one of the two projects I began in Spring 2020 while we were all in quarantine.

Watch every episode of The Simpsons.

Sure, I’d already seen probably 85% of them, but yeah, there were plenty I hadn’t seen, and many that I hadn’t seen in 20 years, so it was worth going through all the episodes, in order, here in 2020.

And 2021, and 2022, and 2023…

The journey ended Sunday night, when I watched the last episode.

Well, the most recent episode.

Seeing every episode of The Simpsons, all 800-plus of them, took me only six years.

Or 37 years, depending on how you look at it.

(Pause for effect.)

My other pandemic goal?

I’ve mentioned this one before. That I was to read (yes, read) every issue of Playboy magazine.

I just finished the July 1970 issue.

Just another half century to go.

Hopefully we have all figured it out by now

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Never in my life had I heard more advertisements for anything, ever, as I did this weekend for the beginning of Daylight Savings Time.

Everywhere I went people–in person and virtually–were encouraging me to prepare to set my clocks ahead, encouraging me to set my clocks ahead, and then following up and checking whether I had set my clocks ahead.

I never had this kind of warning or encouragement when, you know, we actually had to set our clocks ahead.

This is 2026; the things that tell time just know to change when they’re supposed to. I don’t think I could adjust the time on my phone or computer if I tried.

In an earlier era, when, as once described on an episode of Seinfeld, “they just tell you the night before,” yeah, people would screw this up all the time. But now? I have no recourse against whatever time my phone says it is. None of us does. If the phones ever wanted to conspire against us… they totally could.

Don’t give ’em any ideas.

Oh crap, they probably just saw that. No sense in deleting, some AI bot already scraped it.

Shoot. Sorry, everyone.

The end of a tough week

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Today on Math and Musings Franklin and I talk about his namesake and my best friend for all eternity, Joe Sullivan. Franklin and Joe never got to meet, but as with many people I’ve met in the past 20 years, Franklin has heard so many stories about Joe it’s as though they went to TJ, St. Thomas’, and Skate Estate together through all those years that started with 19.

If any of those references make sense to you, this episode is for you.

World Baseball Classic

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It was almost 20 years ago (most of my stories these days seem to start that way), and I was in Tucson, Arizona, for an exhibition game between the Colorado Rockies and some kind of Mexican all-star team. Actually, it was the “Rockies” against Mexican “all-stars.” Basically some Double-A Rockies players against the best Mexico had to offer.

The final score was something like Rockies a million, Mexico zero.

Perhaps my memory exaggerates a bit but it was something like that.

And that’s kind of how I feel this week watching the World Baseball Classic.

But damn it’s nice to watch baseball again.

It was twenty years ago today

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Twenty years ago today was the worst day of my life: the day Joe Sullivan was killed in a car crash at the age of 23.

Joe had been my friend since the Reagan administration. I haven’t had a better friend nor have we had a better president since. (Those of you who knew Joe know that he would be honored to receive mention in the same sentence as our 40th president.)

They say time heals all wounds, but that’s not true here. Time hasn’t healed this one. If anything I’m more made about this on March 2, 2026, than I was two decades ago. Every day I have another instance of, I wish I could have done this with Joe, seen this with Joe, or talked about this with Joe. Whatever the opposite of a pleasant diversion is, this has been my background noise for 20 years.

Tune in Friday to Math and Musings for a therapeutic retelling of the story, 15 minutes about the man I haven’t spent 15 minutes not thinking about since March 2, 2006.

Los Angeles 2028

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The best way to ensure something happens is to announce it to the world.

Put yourself on notice that way.

Now that the 2026 Olympics is over I’m already thinking about the next one…

and I’m going.

Spectator, that is, but still… commence operation Olympic journey!

U-S-A! U-S-A!

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Forty-six years to the day… was slightly before my time, so seeing the famed “Miracle on Ice” has been for me only on tape delay. (I suppose that was the case for everyone though, eh?)

It had been nearly half a century since the U.S. Men’s Olympic hockey team won gold, and in fact it had never taken home gold, as both previous victories have come on U.S. soil. (Well, ice.)

Yesterday was quite a moment for Team U.S.A. and I’ll always be happy to say I saw nearly every moment of the match.

Experiencing miracles before noon. That’s a Sunday morning well spent.

To the moon!

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Today on Math and Musings Franklin and I pick up on holidays discussed last week (Valentines and Presidents) with a discussion of current holidays. That would be this week, and the beginning of Lunar New Year.

Another day off from school and another podcast recorded.

Enjoy.