Check Your Pockets

Today is an example of either how fractionalized we have become OR how wide ranging are our choices.

In Daytona, Florida, NASCAR will debut its new season with its marquee event, the Daytona 500.

In Chicago,  the NBA will stage its annual look-at- me pageant, the NBA All Star Game.

If I were to poll most of the people with whom I interact day-in day-out and asked them to name some NASCAR drivers, most would be flummoxed momentarily and would likely offer up....Dale Earnhardt..and...hold on, hold on...yeah...Jeff Gordon!

Deceased.  Retired.

Likewise, if I were to poll the same group to summon up a couple of NBA names, I expect to get Kobe Bryant and...hold on, hold on...of course...Michael Jordan!

Deceased.  Retired.

Golf?  Everyone knows  Phil. Tiger.  Rory. Patrick.  Alive and kickin'.

Draw your own conclusions.

I went to 5 of these.  Now I have meat in my pockets  

Speaking of meat...Yesterday I took mi esposa out for a Valentine's Day lunch at Gibson's. When we had finished our meals, we headed out into the cold to reclaim the car.  I handed the ticket to the lad at the valet station and immediately jammed my hands into my coat pockets, it was cold, you see.  Now imagine your hands thrust into your warm pockets and feeling...some clammy, soft mass of omg what the hell is...somebody crapped in my coat pocket???

I pulled a chunk of steak, ugh, out and knew who.

"Sandie!?"

She looks and bursts into laughter.

The wife has developed the habit of bringing home from restaurants a little something for the dog.  She had hacked off a hunk of her filet to bring home and stuffed it in what she thought was her pocket. Pretty funny.  Pretty disgusting.  

Oh, yeah..there's XFL football, too, if you can't do without that for a while.

That is all.