TBG and I may be the only people on the planet who don't know any of the characters, plot lines or questions (there are questions??) surrounding Lost. Somehow, I'm okay with that. The cultural zeitgeist will just have to trundle along without me.
I could, like the Little Cuter, catch up on 5 seasons of programs all at once, but even the thought of watching all that tv makes me anxious.
Let's all take a moment and congratulate CORNELL, the BIG RED, the Ivy League leader, which, for the first time since Harry Truman was POTUS, is ranked in a national basketball poll.
TBG and I were among the 60 or 70 regular attendees at Cornell basketball games back in the early 1970's. Penn was a national contender then, and ABC came to campus to record the game for posterity. The producers, appalled at the sparse turn-out's on-screen visuals, moved us all behind Sandy and Hal, who, in addition to owning Ithaca's only kosher deli, were the time keepers and announcers for home games. The score was lopsided but our cheers were heartfelt.
Flipping through and pausing on the American Idol auditions is a mixed bag. You're either delighted or annoyed. There's nothing in between.
Except that Victoria Beckham is the guest judge and she is just too skinny. Scary skinny. And that's always annoying.
I really like the small-steak-and-3-shrimp entrees that Outback plays with as the seasons change. What I like even more are their 1890 margaritas on the rocks with salt. TBG says that I've identified a price index, my own personal consumer price index, the Margarita Index if you will. Last spring, when the economy was moribund, the margaritas cost $2.50. Over the summer, the price went up to $3. Tonight, the same drink in the same glass cost $3.50.
Burger King, purveyor of my guilty pleasure - one Whopper a month eaten in the parking lot in the shade with the Tucson Mountains in the distance and NPR on the radio - Burger King can be part of my personal CPI, too. My ready-in-my-hand-before-I'd-even-placed-my-order $4.30 was suddenly 27cents short.
Does this mean that the economy is improving? Prices are going up? I'm confused.
Seamus Heaney translated Beowulf into read aloud material. Okay, so maybe the listeners should be out of diapers, but the giants and the forswearing of magic and the fantastic weaponry make it a natural for kids in the fantasy years.
I'm thinking about reading to kids because there was a bright eyed 6-month old in the lane next to G'ma and the Happy Ladies and me this afternoon. He was the kind of baby whose eyes followed everything, who smiled knowingly and seemed to be carrying his half of the conversation quite nicely, thank you. And the exceptionally attentive and appropriate and caring and loving young mother said that she doesn't read to him.
No, I did not throttle her. Neither did I suggest Beowulf. We talked about Bookmans and Dr. Seuss...... though I did throw in a mention of Blueberries for Sal and Make Way for Ducklings. Some things should not be lost to history, after all.