Tuesday, August 17, 2010

8/16 Post Game Therapy

I need to talk it out. Since the healthplan at work doesn’t cover trips to the psychologist/psychiatrist, I’m going to use the public plan – which means this blog.

For the first time since I can remember, I didn’t stick through to the bitter end of a Rangers game, I just couldn’t last night. So, I fired up the DVR - “time-shifted” (the newly created euphemism I learned this morning) and watched Sunday’s episode of “Mad Men”.

Here are my reader’s digest comments about that episode:

Pete’s finally growing a pair.
Peggy’s about to get her consciousness raised.
It’s the dawn of psychedelia and that swirling sinkhole Don is in is getting bigger.
There’s never enough Roger.
I still can't get over the fact that Lane is played by Richard Harris's son.

Best moment of the evening: Peggy standing on her desk peeking over the partition/wall at an unnerved Don Draper. As satisfying a moment for her as there has been during the four season run of this show.

About the game: after I read Ron Washington’s comments this morning it’s nice to know that he’s finally figured out what most of us have known for a while: post-injury Joaquin Arias is a waste of roster space. Let’s hope Brandon Boggs (who I really like) takes some extra pre-game fly balls with Gary Pettis today.

Get Well Soon: Michael, Ian and Nelson.

Finally:  let me tell you about what happened to me thirty-three years ago yesterday. There were severe thunderstorms all over Lucas County Ohio. My mother was driving my Grandmother Czajka to a oncologist appointment on the other side of town when the tornado sirens went off. There was a funnel cloud sighted not that far from where we lived. Me, my sisters and our neighbors from across the street hurried down to the basement (the neighbors didn’t have a basement or storm shelter). We’re sitting there nervously, listening to best local storm source: WSPD radio. Remember this was the age way before cell phones – we had no idea where my Mom and Grandma were at. All of the sudden, in the middle of the storm information the newsman breaks in with a news bulletin – I’m thinking nuclear war – and instead announces the death of Elvis Presley. I about threw the radio across the basement. There’s a possibly devastating storm, and we’re worried about my Mom and Grandma – and he’s talking about Elvis. That might have been where celebrity news started its ascendancy and real news its decline. All’s well that ended well: the storm was not too bad, Mom and Grandma made it home safely (with my Grandmother telling my Mom “you drive, I’ll pray”) and last time I checked Elvis is still dead.

I feel better now, hope I feel even better after tonight’s game -- Marla Hooch

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