It’s warmer this morning, but the wind’s blowing like crazy. Despite my lingering cold, I was going to hop on my mountain bike and scout out the Hash House Harrier trail I promised to set this Sunday, but I think I’ll put that adventure off until the gusts die down to tropical storm strength.
When I woke up today, Schatzi was nowhere to be found. Normally she races ahead of me to the kitchen, toenails clacking on the tile floor, anticipating a fresh bowl of water and breakfast. But not today. I found her on Polly’s bed, hunkered down with three cats. What a zoo we live in!
Well, how about that? I fixed the dishwasher. Donna was convinced (based on past experience) I had bought the wrong part and that it wouldn’t work, but it was the right part and it did work. The dishwasher is good as new. Even though this project was successful, the prospect of repairing household appliances continues to fill me with dread, and I pray nothing else breaks. We’ve had quite a run of small disasters lately: pool filter, pool sweep, icemaker, dishwasher. Such are the joys of home ownership.
Has anyone noticed the sudden popularity of posters on Facebook lately? Has everyone run out of things to say? Well, I can play that game too:
Of course if you’re in the habit of making up quotations, turning words into graphics makes it harder for readers to fact-check your ass. Words in a poster can’t be copied and pasted into Google. I wonder if that’s what’s behind this silly trend.
On to less-silly concerns:
I know everyone is breathlessly awaiting my pronouncement on the accusations against Herman Cain. Well, here it is: where there’s smoke there’s fire. I know, I know, that’s something old wives say. But ask yourself this: have you ever known it to be wrong? The man was never anything more than a joke candidate anyway; now we’ve gotten to the punch line.
By rights, if a college or university has a money-generating football or basketball program, tuition should be cheaper, right? And of course it isn’t, because the money, like always, goes into rich mens’ pockets. Big-money college athletic programs are sacred cows, which probably explains why Penn State tried for so long to ignore what was happening inside its football program, tried so hard to put off doing anything to stop it. If I were king, there’d be no college football or basketball. How would colleges and universities support themselves? The same way Oxford does, and the Sorbonne. There are other, better, non-corrupt ways to do things.