Nothing very interesting has happened in the past month - certainly nothing worth blogging about.
(if you are still reading after that intro you are either a very good friend or really, really bored)
I've been uninspired to blog lately. It could be:
1) The disgusting, apocalyptic, how-could-anyone-possibly-deny-the-existence-of-global-warming heat seems to keep all of the odd/funny/interesting people inside, so I haven't really crossed paths with anyone worth writing about.
2) The ineffectiveness of our government (each and every side of it - the left, the right, the up, the down, the tea party, or otherwise) has left me in what seems to be a permanent state of crabbiness - walking around muttering inappropriate things about "career politicians" and the overall state of things. This state of mind, and the resulting crabbiness, is fairly time consuming and takes a lot of concentration so, if anyone interesting has crossed my path, I've likely not seen them or the humor in the situation.
3) Feel free to fill this spot with any point that makes even a little bit of sense - I couldn't think of anything but feel a strong need for a bulletpoint 3.
So, due to the 3 (or so) above stated points, this is not a blog.
Yes, it's posted on a blog site,
Yes, it looks kind of like a blog,
but, as I had very little to do with it, I cannot claim it as anything other than bits and pieces of a conversation overheard at a baseball game on Sunday, July 31st.
It was 1,000,003 degrees at the G. Richard Pfitzner Stadium where I was enjoying time with my friends and time with my nachos (both extremely important) while watching the Potomac Nationals: these are single-A baseball players who may (someday) make it to a double A team, from where they may (someday) make it to a triple A team, from where they may (someday) get to the majors.
Because it was 1,000,003 degrees at the G. Richard Pfitzner Stadium, there weren't many people at the game. The players were there, we were there, a handful of the players' girlfriends were there (at least, we assumed they were players' girlfriends, as they looked a bit too dressed up to just be fans - I mean, I generally don't wear makeup and heels to the ballpark but maybe that’s just me), a handful of dedicated supporters and, a row behind us, a little boy and his dad.
With that, I give you just a few pieces of the words and wisdom of (approximately) 6 year old Albert and his father (who, by the way, had a thick Wisconsin/Minnesotan accent and is almost definitely, although he didn't say it, a Packers fan).
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Dad: Albert don't do that! Don't ever look directly at the sun again. Promise me you won't. No, not even with sunglasses.
Dad: I think there are about 3 billion people in the world. There are 1 billion people just in China.
Albert: My feet are hot, can I take off my shoes?
Albert: ...and then the Indians were mad...the Indians were mad but the General was happy...and the General told the Indians.
Dad: Are you watching the game?
Albert: Dad, you have muscles like that baseball player.
Dad: No, I don't have muscles like that baseball player.
Albert: but you're hairier
Dad: Yes, I did smoke a cigarette once or twice but I shouldn't have and I don't want you to. Ever. Do you promise? Albert?
Dad: See he pitches with his left hand like your uncle and me - not many people do that.
Albert: You think you're special because you are left handed but you're not special at all - you're not even Jesus.
(a point I definitely plan to make next time Dave and I have an argument)
-------------
Thank you, Albert and Albert's dad, for writing my blog for me and for taking my mind off of the heat, off of career politicians, and off of bulletpoint 3.
(if you are still reading after that intro you are either a very good friend or really, really bored)
I've been uninspired to blog lately. It could be:
1) The disgusting, apocalyptic, how-could-anyone-possibly-deny-the-existence-of-global-warming heat seems to keep all of the odd/funny/interesting people inside, so I haven't really crossed paths with anyone worth writing about.
2) The ineffectiveness of our government (each and every side of it - the left, the right, the up, the down, the tea party, or otherwise) has left me in what seems to be a permanent state of crabbiness - walking around muttering inappropriate things about "career politicians" and the overall state of things. This state of mind, and the resulting crabbiness, is fairly time consuming and takes a lot of concentration so, if anyone interesting has crossed my path, I've likely not seen them or the humor in the situation.
3) Feel free to fill this spot with any point that makes even a little bit of sense - I couldn't think of anything but feel a strong need for a bulletpoint 3.
So, due to the 3 (or so) above stated points, this is not a blog.
Yes, it's posted on a blog site,
Yes, it looks kind of like a blog,
but, as I had very little to do with it, I cannot claim it as anything other than bits and pieces of a conversation overheard at a baseball game on Sunday, July 31st.
It was 1,000,003 degrees at the G. Richard Pfitzner Stadium where I was enjoying time with my friends and time with my nachos (both extremely important) while watching the Potomac Nationals: these are single-A baseball players who may (someday) make it to a double A team, from where they may (someday) make it to a triple A team, from where they may (someday) get to the majors.
Because it was 1,000,003 degrees at the G. Richard Pfitzner Stadium, there weren't many people at the game. The players were there, we were there, a handful of the players' girlfriends were there (at least, we assumed they were players' girlfriends, as they looked a bit too dressed up to just be fans - I mean, I generally don't wear makeup and heels to the ballpark but maybe that’s just me), a handful of dedicated supporters and, a row behind us, a little boy and his dad.
With that, I give you just a few pieces of the words and wisdom of (approximately) 6 year old Albert and his father (who, by the way, had a thick Wisconsin/Minnesotan accent and is almost definitely, although he didn't say it, a Packers fan).
-------------
Dad: Albert don't do that! Don't ever look directly at the sun again. Promise me you won't. No, not even with sunglasses.
Dad: I think there are about 3 billion people in the world. There are 1 billion people just in China.
Albert: My feet are hot, can I take off my shoes?
Albert: ...and then the Indians were mad...the Indians were mad but the General was happy...and the General told the Indians.
Dad: Are you watching the game?
Albert: Dad, you have muscles like that baseball player.
Dad: No, I don't have muscles like that baseball player.
Albert: but you're hairier
Dad: Yes, I did smoke a cigarette once or twice but I shouldn't have and I don't want you to. Ever. Do you promise? Albert?
Dad: See he pitches with his left hand like your uncle and me - not many people do that.
Albert: You think you're special because you are left handed but you're not special at all - you're not even Jesus.
(a point I definitely plan to make next time Dave and I have an argument)
-------------
Thank you, Albert and Albert's dad, for writing my blog for me and for taking my mind off of the heat, off of career politicians, and off of bulletpoint 3.
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