Yesterday was
kind of a strange day and given that it was a Monday, strange was more than
okay. The Red Sox finally decided they were
not going winless at Fenway this year and their semi-discarded wunderkind Bradley
was the only one showing signs of
life. I’m getting the definite feeling
that signing Ortiz to the extension was a huge mistake because he certainly
looks to be coasting (but I am not complaining).
I returned home
last night to an empty house since my wife had a girl’s night out dinner with a
couple members of the Panamanian mafia. She
returned home in time to offer her cogent input on both the Red Sox and the
NCAA championship basketball games.
The only
problem with the cogency of her commentary was the close range it was offered from. Anyone who’s ever hung out with Panamanian
women will tell you that whoever is speaking the loudest is the one who gets to
talk. Just returning from her dinner
which I’m sure involved the default verbal gymnastics my wife forgot to adjust
her internal volume control back to gringo level. Since we were sitting hip to hip in Couch
Potato positions 1 and 2 I was forced to finally ask her to stop shouting. She gave me one of those, “you just opened a
whole can of whoopass” looks that I know so well. I escaped with minor injuries.
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| Plowing Through the Archives |
My son came
back up on the net to ask if I remembered the dates he was baptized, received
first communion, and confirmed. I kind
of remembered the year and location but that was it. Since he’s getting married in a catholic church
the priest wants documented evidence he’s not a poser. I starting digging through the family
archives during the Sox game and actually found all three documents which was
kind of startling. He’s a typical Army
brat - baptized back in my home town, received his first communion in Kansas and confirmed in Pennsylvania .
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| Success!! |
I really
enjoyed watching the NCAA championship game with the wife. I refuse to watch the NBA anymore because of
its evolution into a glorified game of ten heavily tattooed thugs playing one
on one. The college game is still fun,
team oriented with players still caring before their inevitable moral pollution
by exposure to the NBA “culture”. Speaking
of moral pollution it was cool to see Kentucky ’s
coach Calipari dealt a tough loss by a less talented but better coached UCONN
team.
I finished my
latest dead sprint through a Brad Thor book yesterday when I with The
Apostle. This was another Scot
Horvath adventure but was kind of a departure in that he no longer worked officially
for the government and wasn’t racing to save Western Civilization. This was a straight forward rescue mission
when he’s contracted by the new president’s financial backer to travel to Afghanistan to rescue
her kidnapped daughter.
I liked this
more modest goal for the super agent and it allowed a more personal look at his
interactions with fellow operators. This
is not to say the body count was any less as the old adage that no one should mess
with a Spectre gunship was definitively demonstrated. I remember working with one of those aircraft
back in Panama
when I was a lieutenant and clearly remember thinking I would not want one of
them pissed off at me. I can only
speculate what they do with today’s technology and it was certainly the star of
the last 50 pages of The Apostle.
I keep a list of Thor’s books on my desk and am starting to worry that I
only have five left. Thankfully Vince
Flynn has arrived to plug the hole when I finish those five, but who comes
after that? I’d welcome suggestions.
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