Tell the ’72 Dolphins to get the champagne on ice. Their distinction will be intact after tonight. This afternoon, actually, after the team without a nickname beats the team without a loss.
It’s on.
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I asked my students today to give me a number as far as how old they thought “old” was.
There answers did not impress me.
When it was 65 degrees over the weekend I was a little confused, but now I can definitely say Christmas is here.
The tree is up, the lights are out, and the yule log is lit.
Well, on TV anyway.
Okay, actually youtube.
It is 2020 after all.
No doubt the best part of my Thanksgiving weekend was spending time with my family and being thankful for, you know…
The new reboot version of Saved by the Bell!
Oh damn this show is good, surprisingly good, and kudos to the folks at Peacock TV who were nice enough to let me watch the first “season” (10 episodes) for free.
Note to self: cancel 7-day “free trial” to Peacock Premium Wednesday.
The new Saved works the same way that Fuller House worked five years ago. Take an admittedly silly family comedy from 30 years ago and tow a line between keeping the campy goodness of the original and lampooning it for all its worth. That’s actually the best part of Saved: making fun of itself, and making fun of, well, things that should be made fun of. Whereas your typical ’90s program took political correctness a bit too far, the new Saved has no such problem. Mostly it’s calling white people out on their silliness. Yeah, I kept thinking to myself oh crap that’s me.
The show really does introduce some thought-provoking topics a la its predecessor (and every show about teenagers), and lets one think about social issues in an honest way. It’s sort of a socially-conscious South Park, without the potty language and gratuitous violence. It’s obviously geared more toward adults than to kids, though hardly adult in a seedy way. It’s for grownups who’ve got kids, who need to laugh a little and think back on their high school days and, well, laugh a little.
Yeah, that’s me.
So thankful.
#blessed
One of the beautiful things about living in the mid-Atlantic is that we really do have four distinct seasons, each of which is complete with the stereotypical trappings of winter, summer, spring, and fall.
This week I’ve noticed another phenomenon: the changing of the “season” by holiday, sort of an amorphous blend of decorations upon lawns and edifices. Some folks, God bless ’em, still have their Halloween decorations up. (Or maybe some of those cobwebs are natural.) There are those who go with generic “fall” decorations, though when it snows or, like yesterday, it’s 70 degrees, they seem a bit out of place. Some of my more ambitious neighbors squeeze in authentic Thanksgiving decorations, usually in the form of a giant blow-up turkey. (My son enjoys spotting these.) And then there are those who take the “store” approach, and put out their Christmas decorations while the Halloween candy is still fresh.
Hey… ’tis the season!
Continuing our birthdays of old-time baseball players series…
Yankee legend Joe DiMaggio was born on this day in 1914. He played from 1936-1951, and “God” doesn’t even begin to describe what Joe was for another half century after he retired.
For the record, his final game was Game Six of the 1951 World Series.
Joe walked away from the game when he was 36 years old. With three years of MLB time lost to his service in World War II, he played only 13 seasons. Won a championship in nine of them.
His protege (of sorts), Mickey Mantle, was playing in his first World Series in ‘51. (He was injured in Game Two and watched the rest of the Series from a hospital bed.) The Mick played his last game in 1968, several years after the end of the Yankee Dynasty that lasted a more than a generation.
We generally think of the Mantle as hanging on “too long.” In his final years he was at best an average player. How old was he in his last game?
Thirty-six.
As a matter of fact he was 22 days shy of Birthday 37. DiMaggio? The man who retired early? He was 46 days short of of that same birthday.
Bet’cha never realized that one!
Heard this one on Saturday but still can’t get over it.
(In the parlance of our times, “I was today years old when…)
This past Saturday would have been baseball legend Stan Musial’s 100th birthday. He was born in the small town of Donora, Pennsylvania, on November 21, 1920.
That was pretty cool to find out.
I looked into other celebrity birthdays.
Ken Griffey Jr. was turning 51.
That was cool. (Though a little disturbing to realize that I used to think 51 was “old.”)
Junior’s place of birth?
Donora, Pennsylvania.
Whoa.
The best Tweet I’ve seen on any topic in recent weeks went something like this…
The year 2020 has been God awful and nothing that happens now could change tha–
And then there was a picture of the new hot chocolate flavor from our friends at Swiss Miss…
Lucky Charms Hot Chocolate.
Lucky… Charms… Hot… Chocolate.
This might not exactly rescue 2020, but it’s a step in the right direction.
This is always a tough part of the year.
The Halloween candy’s down to the dregs and it’s still a week until Thanksgiving.
From April 15, 2019…
Funny how Tiger and I still aren’t that different. He’s still just a little bit older than I am, and he has kids and a bad hairline just like me.
He can make a 10 on a Par 3 like me too.
Dang. I didn’t want to relate to you that much, Tiger.
Still, you know what they say: A bad day at (watching) golf…