Friday, March 2, 2012

Drinkin' Cocoa on the Bear Skin Rug....

I was at the crib, sittin' by the fireplace.

But I digress....

Jason Varitek of the Red Sox retired this week. Varitek played for the Sox full-time since 1998. He actually arrived at the trading deadline in 1997, when he was still a "prized minor leaguer". He came to them in a deal that turned out so terribly for the Red Sox's trading partner that one suspects that a decade and a half later the name, "Heathcliff F****** Slocumb" is still uttered through clenched teeth in coffee houses all over Seattle. Varitek's entire big league career was spent in Boston where he was the Red Sox catcher, captain and cog on two World Series-winning teams. It seems fitting - to me at least - that he and his Yankees counterpart Jorge Posada retired during the same off-season. They essentially arrived on the scene together all those years ago. During their careers, each represented the best parts of his respective team and what is - to me at least - the best rivalry in professional sports.

With Varitek's retirement, that rivalry has now said farewell to four tough as nails competitors since the end of the 2010 season. He and Posada can form a foursome with Andy Pettitte and Tim Wakefield and spend their summer afternoons on golf courses rather than baseball diamonds. Varitek should find it markedly easier to play golf with Wakefield than he ever found it to catch him. I hope retirement treats him well. He served baseball well from the first day to the last day of his career. The game shall miss him. Want to have a bit of fun? Check out Wikipedia.

On Tuesday, the latest Springsteen CD officially arrives in stores. Tonight Bruce and the ESB shall pop in again with Springsteen's #1 fan (at least among late night television hosts) Jimmy Fallon on "Late Night". I go too bed far too early to watch Fallon's show. Thankfully, through the wonders of video, even that which was not viewed at time of broadcast is not missed any longer. If you are curious as to whether at his age and sans the Big Man, Mr. Springsteen can still get it done, then check this out. Or this. You watch. You decide.

Courtesy of a little bird, I have spent the past week or so listening to this record (and if I had not broken the "device" that I used to share audience created recordings I would have shared and shared alike). If you saunter over to Backstreets.com you shall see that not every citizen of Springsteen Nation is a fan. I happen to like it a great deal. It contains at least a couple of songs that I cannot ever imagine myself tiring of hearing - a list at which this song belongs on top.

I spend a lot of time driving and, consequently, I put a fair amount of miles on my car. Skate is approaching her sixth birthday and 175,000 miles with equal alacrity and enthusiasm. Yet for all the driving I do, I really do not go anywhere. By that I mean that almost 100% of Skate's miles have been accrued within the georgraphical confines of the State of Concrete Gardens. While driving around on my beloved home state's highways and byways I have seen some pretty funny stuff. One night last September as I was driving home on 287 South I saw this:


All I could think was, "Holy Sh*t! With my luck this is what will happen to me when I die." And then I remembered that Margaret's instructions are to cremate me. Hopefully the journey from the funeral home to the crematorium is shorter than that from the funeral home to the cemetery, thus reducing the likelihood of car trouble.

This past Saturday I was heading home on 287 South when I saw the biggest cup of "to go" coffee I have ever seen in all my life:


Presently neither of my kids - both of whom are coffee fiends and big Dunkin' Donuts fans - resides in a part of the United States that "runs on Dunkin'" so I sent the picture to them. A not-too-subtle jab by the old man I reckon, "Look how great we have it here!" or something to that effect. Not only can we get it at Dunkin' Donuts or at the local supermarket, we can get it by the carload!

There is an old saw about the one who laughs last. I was reminded of it on Tuesday. As I understand it, the lords of Facebook place advertisements on one's home page that bear some relationship to the person and/or the person's identified interests. It explains to my satisfaction why I see endless advertisements for races of all distances and types as well as products associated with the University of Colorado.

It does not however explain nearly to my satisfaction what prompted the inclusion of this advertisement on my page:


I know I have never said a word about that aloud. I shall be damned if I know how Marc Zuckerberg and his henchmen found out.

Someone must have leaked....

....Things that make you go hmm
The things that make you go hmm.



-AK

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