I Have Yet Another Story and A Moral Thereof!

The best way to bump into celebrities is to live in Los Angeles.  The second best way is to travel to and from there frequently.   It was on a return trip from there that this writer very nearly chest bumped an “A lister.”

Another early AM Friday flight from LA  to Houston had boarded.  The week was done for the most part.  Luckily, I was bumped up to first class as a bonus on the bon voyage.  Before taking my seat in 1D I quickly saw that the overhead storage space directly over the row didn’t exist due to the curvature of the fuselage.  Being a bit of an alpha, I seized the opportunity to put my roller bag over row 2 just behind me.  What about the needs of the folks in row 2 you ask?  What about them I ask?

I settled in with The Wall Street Journal in hand; actually in two hands.  This was back when newspapers actually still went to print.  The hubbub, yapping, inefficiency, and general incivility of 250 humans boarding a plane was all around me.  Immersed in the paper, it was all just white noise to me.  It’s far better that way to remain somewhat sane truth be told.

With that as the backdrop I barely heard, and it really didn’t register with me, that a pair of first class flight attendants were at work in the galley as one remarked to the other that “it sounds like we have a VIP on board.”  This could be most anyone including United brass or a dead head trip friend, etc.  I stayed buried in The Journal.

Wheels up, a movie on the tiny screen, a breakfast, some computer work, and wheels down three hours later summarizes my time in the cylindrical 550 mph tin can.  A luggage grab, a stroll to the parking garage, a drive home, and a conference call is all that stood between me and a big time weekend.

That luggage grab would be like threading a needle though as I needed to walk backwards to get it.  The alpha in me said that I should bull rush the oncoming traffic, stifle it, and grab the bag versus waiting for a slow moment in the mad exit dash from the row or rows behind me.

As I took the hard left turn to do just that the person seated directly behind me for the entire flight headed for the aisle in the obviously opposite direction that I was.  And, because of that we both came to a full stop.  Then we met eye to eye for that uncomfortable moment that I created.  Well, it was almost eye to eye.  The gentleman was about a half-foot shorter than I.  Immediately the mind raced.  Yes.  Yes.  I cannot be mistaken.  Yes it is.  It was none other than George Clooney.  Oh yes I did, I flat out stymied George.

It felt like I had a pair of eyes on my back through the Jetway.  Once in the terminal a fellow passenger strode by and asked if I knew that was George Clooney.  I decided to stay alpha and went the humorous route, or so I thought.  I asked him “more importantly do you think that George Clooney knew that it was me?”  It was an odd stare back for sure. It was a bit awkward all around all over again really.

Oh, what’s the moral of the story?  Keep your luggage close and your A List friends closer.  Or, vice versa.

 

No Spring Chicken, But Still Pleased as Punch

Yesterday one of our esteemed writers turned a, in his mind, very young 59 years of age.  An early morning workout gave way to some reading.  Time of the essence allowed for only 12 holes of golf as a fun dinner with family awaited.  And indeed the day was enjoyable.  When asked about the day he said that he was as pleased as punch with how it went.  However, while pleased as punch sounds good, it comes from a macabre origin.  Its meaning is derived from the bizarre really.

Meaning: To be very happy
History: A 17th century puppet show for adults called Punch and Judy featured a puppet named Punch who almost always hurt people. The act of killing or hitting characters with his stick (know as a slapstick) brought him pleasure, so he felt pleased with himself afterwards.  Later the show morphed into a lighter, more children’s friendly event, and Punch’s character thankfully became a friendly one.

As one ages either gracefully or not so gracefully(like the beast known as Punch) into the fall season of their lives, their existence is sometimes referred to as being “no spring chicken.”  This seems less than flattering.  Savvy New England chicken buyers agree.

Meaning: Someone who is past his prime
History: New England chicken farmers generally sold chickens in the spring, so the chickens born in the springtime yielded better earnings than the chickens that survived the winter. Sometimes, farmers tried to sell old birds for the price of a new spring chicken. Clever buyers complained that the fowl was “no spring chicken,” and the term came to represent anyone past their prime.

While you may not be as pleased as punch to be looked at as no spring chicken, remember, “age is only a number.”  So says some wise owls.

We wonder why the bigger the birthday number the more likely it’s referred to as only a number?  Actually, we don’t wonder.  We know.

The day is young.  It’s time to get after it.

 

 

 

 

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If You Are Gonna Talk the Talk

Last week seemed to have been filled with a bit more rancor than most.  So much so that we wrote this.

After a week of too much misdirected, failed, or ill-advised passion we decided to end it on a somewhat lighter note that allows us to forget for a bit all of the above.  Sports.  Now that’s passion directed in the right direction 24/7.  Combatants on any field, arena, or track of competition bring out the love of the game in all of us.  Their actions and subsequent achievements are plenty enough to gain a sense of the love for their chosen filed of dreams.  But, sometimes their passion spills over into their words as well.  Below we offer to you in no particular order some inspirational quotes from some intense sport folks.

Well, today we offer you a few savage quotes.  Savage quotes are like verbal daggers in your back.  Except, in the often heated moment of sports and its resultant aftermath, these sharp words are aimed directly at the intended target’s heart.   In the coming weeks we’ll bring you more as they are plentiful and never disappoint.  For now, enjoy the beast mode bravado of these seven quotes below.

  1.  “But the real tragedy was that fifteen hadn’t been colored in yet.”  —Steve Spurrier then head coach at South Carolina on the Auburn dorm room fire       that, among other things, burned 20 books.
  2.  “I dunno, I’ve never smoked any Astro Turf.”  —Tug McGraw on being asked if he preferred natural grass or artificial turf.
  3.   “Because there are no fours.”  —Antoine Walker when asked why he took so many threes.
  4.  ” I will eat your children.”  —Mike Tyson spoke directly to Lennox Lewis in the prefight weigh in.  Lewis knocked him out when they fought.
  5.   “These are my new shoes.  They are good shoes.  They won’t make you rich like me, they won’t make you rebound like me, and they definitely won’t         make you handsome like me, they’ll only make you have shoes like me.  That’s it.” — Charles Barkley on his new signature shoes.
  6.  “I’m not worried about the Sacramento Queens.”  —Shaquille O’Neal responded in the heat of the 2002-2003 season when the Kings were the upstart   team and suddenly popular choice to end the Lakers dominance in the west.
  7.   “All he does is talk. He’s terrible, and you can print that. I was happy when he was in the game.”  —Bill Belicheck unloaded this dandy right after the   2004 Super Bowl when his secondary held Freddie Mitchell to one catch.  Mitchell was running his mouth in the weeks leading up to the game about not   even knowing who the NE secondary players were.

Running your mouth isn’t good.  But when you can back it up, well.

As Jimmy Johnson once said, “if you gonna talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk.”

 

Fashionable Managers are Good (for) Sports.

The NBA fashion show and All Star weekend has come and gone.  Team LeBron squeaked by Team Giannis in a defensive thriller 178-164.  In defense (none played) of the NBA the weekend is really more about style than substance anyway.  The atmosphere surrounding one of these weekends is dress up, party, three-point contest, dress up, party, pretend to play a basketball game, dress up, party.  The dearly departed Yogi Berra would call it 90% style and 50% substance we think.  Which got us to thinking.

When Yogi hung up his cleats from catching for his Yankees he eventually wore those cleats and an entire game ready Yankees’ uniform while managing them from the dugout.  This is, of course, just like every other MLB (or MiLB) manager before and after him.  Which got us to thinking.  Why do MLB managers wear the team uniforms?  Respect?  Tradition?  Superstition?  Are they more effective or authoritative if they dress so?  At a minimum we suppose that when they disagree with an umpire’s call its better to kick dirt on home plate with cleats and an easily washable uniform.  Which got us to thinking.

Can you imagine if they dressed like Pat Riley, aka Mr. GQ, the NBA multi time world champ head coach extraordinaire?  Or, could you imagine the cool Riley bouncing out of a dugout in his woven Cole Hahn’s and Perry Ellis tailored suit to turn his cap backwards and spit tobacco juice hither and yon? Heaven forbid that one gelled strand of coiffed hair stray out of place.   Which got us to thinking.  Why do NBA coaches roam court side in thousands of dollars of fine silk threads and pressed shirts?  ‘Why not?’ is our guess.  Aside from sitting, standing, and very occasionally drawing up a play with a Sharpie on a white board there isn’t much physical exertion inside of a climate controlled arena to sweat about.  Which got us to thinking.

Why do NFL football coaches wear coaching shorts and shirts and cleat looking shoes without cleats during practice?  And why do they wear NFL sideline team gear on game days?  Ah, we think we know this one.   NFL practices can be messy, with grass, mud, and sweat and all.  And, the NFL is the ultimate marketing machine.  “Ooh, did you see the new LA Rams shirt that (poster boy) Sean McVay wore on the sidelines?”  “I gotta get me one.”  Which got us to thinking.

Why don’t NHL coaches wear team sweaters and skates while standing behind 20 or so sweaty guys that sit on a cold bench holding a wooden stick waiting for their shift to be called out by men who wear suits and ties?  It’s always an adventure for the coaches try to walk on the ice with dress shoes on.  And, can the NHL afford a tanning bed for them? Milk white skin washes out against milk white ice.  The winters are long in those parts.  Which got us to thinking.

Why do soccer coaches (or managers or trainers or whatever they are called) in Euro leagues wear skinny ties and skinny pants with fitted shirts with their skinny sport coats next to those benches that look like bus stops?  Exact change is needed to board please.  Which got us to thinking.

We think that we might have over thought this.

 

More (No) Respect Coming Later this Spring

Before cable, satellite, and the internet, comics had few nationwide outlets for fans to enjoy their humor.  At least musicians had recording studios and could have an album pressed, publicized, and sold for them in addition to their concert tours.  Comics could “stand up” in a comedy house, pack their bags, drive to the next town, and “stand up” all over again.  The pay was poor and the travel was brutal.  Few attempted to do so on a coast to coast basis.  Fewer lasted trying to do so.

One who toiled in relative obscurity, beat the long odds, and gained a national following is our favorite. He was good enough to get a shot on one of the very few network programs that provided a platform.  On Sunday, March 5, 1967, The Ed Sullivan Show needed a last-minute replacement for another act, and he became the surprise hit of the show.  He was already 46 years old then.

However, no platform was bigger than stage left of Johnny Carson’s desk.  Already in his fifties, he made Johnny Carson laugh out loud (LOL for you kids) each time he appeared on The Tonight Show.  Carson had great content control as a producer for his own show.  He liked Jack Roy (born Jacob Rodney Cohen, November 22, 1921 – October 5, 2004), popularly known by the stage name Rodney Dangerfield, so much that he appeared 35 times.  He may have gotten “no respect, no respect at all,” but we have great respect for his persistence, brand cultivation, and sense of humor.

In fact we have so much respect that we are hopeful that our site update later this spring will include a Dangerfield joke of the day.  In show biz that is called a tease.  So, let’s tease you with a smidgen of his “No Respect” shtick.

“Right from birth I got no respect.  The doctor took one look at me.  He spanked my mother.”

“The doctor said to my mom ‘we did everything that we could.’  But he lived!”

“My mother didn’t breast feed me.   She told me she liked me as a friend.”

More (no) respect for Jacob Rodney Cohen soon.