Ah, what a wonderfully Emo title I've selected this fine, sunny day.
I'm sad, though. I dialed through the news this morning and found that a family friend died over the long weekend. He was a friend of my grandfather's, a member of one of the town's "noble" families (the town's heritage could be divided into about three main families...the joys of small town life...I've taken to calling them the "noble" families as a kind of tongue-in-cheek reference to those days of long ago when governments were dominated by family units moreso than any strong infrastructure, and that you could identify a place by the names that were there and vice versa...but I'm getting way off track here), he cut my hair when I was a lad, helped open my bank account when I was a callow youth, and helped my parents with their insurance needs as I rocketed toward driving age. He was a member of my old church. He was a likeable and wonderful man. One of his step-granddaughters was one of my very good friends in high school. In one of the greater understatements of my lifetime, he'll be missed.
Billy Joe Randol -- you can read the obit here. Rest in Peace, my friend.
Then I read that Sean Taylor died from the gunshot wound he sustained the other night. Wonderful. ESPN and other news outlets will cover this one [i]ad nauseum[/i], but it was just another in a series of depressing news stories that I read this morning. Now, anyone who's read this blog for a while knows that I'm not a huge Redskins fan, nor was I a great Sean Taylor fan, but it's not like I felt he deserved this fate. Especially when it seems that his little girl helped him get his life turned around and all. It's sad, no matter what you think of the NFL, the Redskins, and Sean Taylor himself (and dearest God, please, [i]please[/i] do not think that I'm ever going to link this to an indictment of the lowliness of Miami (FL)'s football program...I'm just heading that off at the pass). RIP, Sean. You'll be missed.
So, with all that in mind, I've felt like the little Zoloft ball this morning. For now, I'm going to keep things somber on here, but tonight is my first chance to see Indiana in action on the hardwood this season, so I'll get to my thoughts on their rather fast start to the season. I've also got some updates to some things I need to get to, plus a look back on the Irish's last game of the season. Thankfully. Oh, and some more stupid sports talk comments.
I hope everyone had a Happy Thanksgiving. Don't forget, there's only 28 shopping days left until Chri$tma$. So, take a moment, forget about what the season means, sit down, and buy stuff already. If you don't, the terrorists have already won.*
* Everything after the word "Thanksgiving" is dripping with sarcasm. Just so you know.
3 comments:
:( Sorry to hear about your grandfather's friend.
This is my bad season, with or without tragedies. When it gets cold, all I want to do is hibernate.
But don't be emo. (The ninjas don't like that.)
Thanks. Comments about Ninjas help to break me out of any doldrums I'm in.
I love cold weather. It's when it's 70 degrees in November that depresses me (honest!).
Maybe that would work as an antidepressant - "Don't mope or the ninjas will attack you while you sleep." It might be an improvement over the "Zoloft for everything" (the Onion) campaign, or it might leave me frozen in fear deciding whether to mope or run and hide under the bed with my cats.
This just feels like a sad season, though perhaps I have grown less happy as I get older. I wish that I saw more hope, but I don't, though I hope that you can find some.
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