This weekend has presented the world a veritable avalanche of high profile basketball games on TV (to confuse a couple of metaphors). Seems like the NCAA tournament people have finally figured out how to spread their images across multiple networks simultaneously. I hardly have time for a nap, or to read the Sunday paper, or to get a snack from the refrigerator, or even race to the loo. I have discovered that if I keep the volume up loud, I don't miss that much while I am out of the room.
I intentionally try to miss the ads by hitting the mute button when I am quick enough and can find the remote, or by spacing out when the TV's volume is low after taking a phone call. I especially like to use the mute button to trash the Dodge truck ads which feature an announcer who has a low, masculine Western cowboy-like voice and sounds like he has marbles in his mouth (Liz's observation). I wouldn't have or drive a Dodge truck (named "Ram" as an assertion of all activities masculine) if someone gave me one.
Then there's insurance. Having just spent way too many hours trying to get my local State Farm agent to approve the repairs of a minor body dent (even though I pay the first $500 of a total bill of less than $1000), I take especial umbrage at the ads which feature people singing or saying the signature ditty, "Like a good neighbor...etc." upon the completion of which a comely agent or Bob Barker (with orange makeup that puts Speaker Boehner to shame) suddenly materializes and then causes anything from a new car to a hot tub or Panda Bear to magically appear and satisfy a policy holder. My agent has a phone answering machine for his three incoming lines, and one secretary to man them when he is otherwise indisposed. I resent having to make multiple calls to my insurance service provider, hearing that "Your call is important to us," and then having no more contact with them until the next time I speak with their machine. Just once I'd like to hear my agent's actual voice, in person, have an adult conversation, listen to him make some sense and allow me to get my car fixed at the local body shop; I don't need fancy stuff like bears and hot tubs, I just need to know that "...State Farm is there," really there when I need them.
Don't get me wrong, many of the tournament's games have been exciting, and displayed young men who are talented and well trained, in incredible physical shape, and large of both body and spirit. I still have one hometown favorite (Kentucky) in the running, but I am not particularly optimistic about them making it to the Final Four, especially without the services that young red-headed point guard from Louisville who can hit one hand shots from anywhere around the circle
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I hope that our current intrusion into Lybia, ironically on the 8th anniversary of the beginning of the Iraq war, doesn't become another Tar Baby for a Br'er Rabbit America.
A welcome to readers
As a resident of this planet for more than four fifths of a century, I have enjoyed both successes and disappointments in a wide variety of vocations, avocations, and life experiences. This blog satisfies my desire to share some thoughts and observations--trenchant and prosaic--with those who are searching for diversions which are interesting, poignant and occasionally funny. I also plan to share recommendations about good/great movies I've watched and books and articles which I've found particularly mind-opening, entertaining, instructive. In addition, I can't pass up the opportunity to reflect publicly on how I am experiencing the so-called Golden Years. Write anytime: