Sometimes you got to get a spark before beginning any foray. And on golden pond ( a tip of the cap to myself ) it is no different. Sitting down to compose earlier, my thoughts and typewriter keys came to a halt. The juices weren't there, and we were going nowhere. So I took a stroll outside, lit up a smoke, and came back with this:
The Bosox made history this week by coming back from a 3-0 deficit to beat the dreaded Yankees. Had never been done in the anals, er, annals of baseball. Imho, the pinstripers lost their aggressiveness and quit swinging at the ball. And Mariano Rivera proved he was human after all, blowing two saves in a row. And what of the curse? Well, the beantown bombers ( gotta love the nomenclature ) still have to beat the Cards to erase 86 years of futility.
Btw, I finally noticed that someone responded to "Another Post About Nothing." Thanks, Snave. It is reassuring to know that others have such good taste in movies. Oh, the synchronicity!
On a somber note, my company is in deep shit. ( pardon my freedom fries, er, french ) Sales in Hotlanta have gone in the tank ever since a guest reported finding a varmit in his turnip greens and sharing it with the news media. Spreading quickly-like an elephant with diarrhea-it was all over town.
We interrupt this transmission to announce the curse of the bambino is rearing its ugly head. The Cards and Bosox are tied 9-9 in the top of the eighth. The men from St. Louie have the bases loaded with one out. Unusual and bizarre events are unfolding. Give it a rest, Babe!
Back to the varmit. The media pounced on the story like a vulture on a carcass by the side of the road. Did any of the savvy media types question the story's authenticity or the victim's credibility? Who knows, but it is doubtful any CNN types peruse Piccadilly for lunch.
Sorta like the presidential debates and the subsequent barrage of frenzied exchanges. It is tiring, so tiring. I for one will be glad when it's over. The back-stabbing, the name calling, the hair pulling, and the disparaging insults. And that's just between me and Kitty. She wants her candidate to win and vice-versa. It would be unfair of me to divulge who's for who, er, whom's for whom, er, who's for whom!
Sorry, we must halt this train of thought for another break. The Bosox just tweaked a fly ball onto the foul pole and have gone ahead 11-9. Cards fans are looking to the heavens. Where are you, bambino? What's in your bag of tricks? Will Boston win game 1?
Anyway, the feeding frenzy by the media is making mincemeat of sales. ( pun intended because Thanksgiving is rearing its ugly head-see catering season-allah the bambino ) Will the stores make a comeback? Is this the end?....
It's over! Boston hangs on to win game one. Will the Cards come back? Is this the end....of the curse?....
Stay tuned....
Farewell and adieu, v.c.
P.S. For those unfamiliar with turnip greens, please consult your favorite search engine.
2 comments:
When you mention Boston I remember that old saw about "merry old Boston, home of the bean and the cod. Where the Lowells talk only to Cabots, and the Cabots talk only to God."
Also, the story of the English gourmand who was completing a whirlwind tour of North America, having enjoyed all the famous foods from their places of origin. Steaks from Kansas City. Barbecue from Texas. Muffaletta sandwiches from New Orleans. Seafood from San Francisco.
He had a short time to eat once again before boarding his return flight from Boston to London. He hailed a taxi, got in and told the driver, "Quick, take me to get schrod!"
The cabbie, without batting an eye, turned around and said, "Buddy, I've been driving this hack for thirty years, and you are the first guy who ever used the past pluperfect subjunctive."
Very funny, hoots. But the pond had never heard of pluperfect. But it was funny w/o knowing the meaning. Split infinitive-now that's a different story. To fondly end this train of thought, v.c.
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