…while I still can.
* So I have the new Vandy jacket, which fills both the Graduate School and the Outdoor Performance Clothes notches in my Stuff White People Like sweepstakes. It’s the first piece of all-new outerwear I’ve bought in four years – after drowning in jackets for about 15 years, it’s a fairly impressive drought. (In fairness, my wife unexpectedly bought me a simple black thing for my birthday last year which is quite stylish and consequently something it never would have occurred to me to buy myself.) Vandy III is a bit on the big side, but that’s not a bad idea for strategic layering purposes, and it’s a hell of a lot lighter than the leather stuff.
* Plus, since the Vandy women beat UT for the first time since 2002, I’m cised to wear it all week.
* I’m starting to believe that it’s actually a true fact that the sole measure of value to modern conservatism is whether it pisses off people who aren’t conservative. I mean, they actually sent that bald douche from Ohio to be a war correspondent? Seriously? It has become absolutely impossible to take conservatism seriously, with the obvious exception of the very talented crew at TAC.
* Even Pat Buchanan finds a nut once in a while – his shtick hasn’t really budged since he was WHCD, and it’s generally kind of eye-rolling not-again stuff, but his appreciation of the late Sammy Baugh was as fine a piece of sportswriting as you may see all year, and has the added benefit of coming from someone who actually grew up watching the Redskins in the Baugh era. In the pre-television NFL, not many people can say that.
* Speaking of sportswriting, I don’t know what ESPN was thinking, but I accidentally clicked on a Rick Reilly column and was immediately reminded why print sportswriting has all gone to hell. Same thing, over and over, beating a dead horse. Just like me. Except I don’t kill trees to do it and I don’t pretend that what I write is any more important than just some dork on the Internet. The kind of ill-founded logic, saccharine dreck, and general white Boomer foolishness that Reilly brings to the table is pretty much the reason I cancelled my subscription to Sports Illustrated ten years ago. Seriously, all you need is Deadspin and EDSBS and you’ll be just fine.
* NewNewNewJob continues apace. I think it’s going well, although I may have more metrics on that shortly, but I’ll tell you this: I don’t dread getting up in the morning anymore aside from the obvious OMG IT’S EARLY issue. And even then, I made it out the door today by 7:27 AM of my own free will. And less than 20 minutes later, was walking down the platform at my work train stop. Being able to commute entirely by public transit PWNS and don’t you forget it. I could actually have a drink after work with my colleagues if I felt like it. In fact I may be having a drink DURING work later this week, as the department holiday party is Wednesday afternoon.
* The weather is April-ish here. No, really. The high in San Jose today was 77. This is wrong on many levels.
* I am told, via reliable sources, that Washington DC is already basically un-navigable. One of my former co-workers (whose WVU education means that his children are basically being raised by a baboon) missed ten straight lights at the same intersection in a traffic jam today, parked in the nearest deck and walked a half mile to work. I’d love to see history, but I’m not about to wait in line for it.
* If I still lived in DC, though, you bet your ass I’d be out to see Bruce Springsteen, Beyonce, Stevie Wonder et al on Sunday.
* My Buddy Vince Sez, “You know I will always support weed over blow. Unless the blow is free of course.”
Finis.
If a community activist can be president and an SNL comedian can be a senator, why can’t a plumber be a journalist?
-ZOMG, does that mean it is “North Face”? Also, I have far too great an affinity for SWPL.
-So there was this older lady in Lowe’s yesterday preaching to the much younger man at the paint counter (ahhh the joys of a new old house) about how the change is coming and we (meaning clearly not me the WHITE girl) were a part of it and there was no more holding us back or keeping us down and she was part of the movement and was a panther back in the day. I full expected her to give me the stink eye whilst outstretching a bony finger to put a curse on me why calling me a Republican (which would be the worst kind of curse). I really wanted to yelp, “But I’m Canadian!” I can think of few who would appreciate that Southern story more than you.
-I can’t feel my feet. Or my fingers. It is nowhere near April here. And so I hate you a little bit. But not as much as the DH who is trapped in the Attic tundra for the week.
-Glad the job is going well! It makes such a difference when you don’t want to slit your wrists every morning, does it not? Also, so very jealous over public transit.
-When is DC navigable? Though I imagine it will also be something beyond amazing!