Friday, June 22, 2012

Perhaps It Is Just Me....

Under normal operating conditions I am no one's idea of a bargain.  This week the combination of work-related silliness and the working replica of the E-Z Bake Oven into which the State of Concrete Gardens has morphed has amped up my general cuddliness for those fortunate enough to be in my immediate vicinity.  The rock in my melon that masquerades as a brain is quite tired.  As a result....well if you read beyond the next sentence or so you shall find out for yourself. 

Thus endeth the disclaimer....

Is it just me or did Don Mattingly hit it squarely on the head when - in the wake of the Roger Clemens' acquittal earlier this week - he called the prosecutions of knot heads like Clemens and Barry Bonds  an utter waste of taxpayer funds for which innumerable better purposes could be found?   Who gives a rat's ass whether what either of these two jocks did was in fact criminal behavior?  They either cheated to attain a level of glory that they otherwise might not have or they did not.  If they did, then they will carry with them for the rest of their lives their oversized Rock 'Em/Sock 'Em Robot heads, their putt-putt golf-sized junk and the stink of what they did.   If they did not, then perhaps someone owes them an apology.  Perhaps.  That "someone" certainly ain't me and I am willing to wager that you need not apply for that gig either. 

Is it just me or would it not be less expensive for Rafael Nadal to hire some kid for minimum wage plus a nickel an hour to walk around with him and tell him the time at Rafa's request than it is for him to wear a watch?  While Nadal was wiping the clay with the field at the recently-completed French Open, a thief stole his watch from his hotel room.  The French police nabbed the thief a few days after the pilfering took place and recovered the watch as well.  Good thing as the watch was a tad on the pricey side.  The jeweler who loaned it to Nadal to wear described it as a $376,000 watch.  Let us be blunt here for a moment.  If you have the coin necessary to drop $376,000 on a watch, you do not need to wear one for the answer to the question whenever you ask, "what time is it?" is "any damn time you want it to be."

Is it just me or is it possible that Charlie Sheen is not entirely nuts?  Earlier this week the Star-Ledger ran an article that featured some excerpts of Sheen's interview in an upcoming issue of Playboy.  Among the highlights - for me anyway - was Sheen's declaration that everything anyone ever needed to learn about life was there for the learning in Apocalypse Now.  "Everything you need to know about life is in 'Apocalypse.' Everything. When Marlon Brando says, 'You have the right to kill me, but you don’t have the right to judge me,' that’s it, man. That’s the world right there."  I have not read the whole interview so I know not whether Sheen drops any credit at Robert Duvall's feet as well for his communication of an important life lesson.  If you pick it up at the newsstand, then drop me a line and let me know.  I shall be waiting eagerly by my in-box. 

Finally, it might very well just be me because I have a real soft spot for my fellow CU Buff and uber-talented scribe Rick Reilly but given the subject matter of his column from earlier this week, I hope like hell that it is not just me who thinks Double R is spot-on in his assessment of accused serial sexual predator Jerry Sandusky.  Not to mention his hope for the locale where Sandusky next gets to play his "tickle monster" game.   Here is to hoping that wherever he plays that disgusting game next he loses the coin flip every time he plays so that rather than kicking off, he is forced to receive.  Sorry Coach.  This league is like the CFL.  No fair catch is permitted. 

Truth be told, I care not one whit if it is in fact just me who thinks these things.  I do not think that life is a popularity contest.  And if I am wrong and indeed it is, my chance of winning it all disappeared about seven seconds after I spoke my first words aloud four and one-half decades ago.  Either way, 'tis my skin and I am damn comfortable in it. 

See you soon.


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