Say It Ain’t So, Yanks

After last night’s heartbreaker, millions of fans of the Babe, the Iron Horse, Joltin’ Joe, the Scooter, the Mick, Whitey, the Old Perfessor, Mel Allen, Red Barber, Don Larsen,  Mr. October, the Louisana Lightning, Buuuuckyyyyyy Dent,  Catfish,  Donnie Baseball, Sweet Lou, Paulie, the Rocket, Moose, Bernie, the Captain, A-Rod,  and, yes, even Billy Martin wonder if this will be. . .

Note From the Proprietor: Go Yankees!

No, I haven’t succumbed to the swine flu. No, I’m not still wandering dazed at the State Fair, trying to find the missing Texas offense that never showed up on Saturday vs. OU. And no (bitter local joke ahead), I didn’t take the DART Green Line to the Fair, so I’m not still waiting on the platform somewhere in South Dallas.

I’ve just hit a heavy patch of work, with incoming rounds of assignments bouncing off my flak jacket. Hope to dig out in a day or two and be back with scintillating stuff.

BUT….I do have this: If the New York Yankees cooperate, this time next week I’ll be fulfilling a lifelong dream and checking a big one off my Bucket List. Yes, I’ve bought $$$$$$$$$$ World Series tickets, booked my flight and my hotel, and if the Bronx Bombers come through, I’ll be perched over the Yankees bullpen for Game Two, knowing at last that there is a heaven.

The pesky Angels bounced back in Game 3 yesterday, but my faith in St. A-Rod cannot be shaken.  I’m bound for glory!

4,000 Dead Chickens to Rabbi: “We’re Not Even Jewish”

A National Public Radio piece here recounts a controversy over a Jewish ritual that for some reason requires the slaughter of thousands of chickens as atonement for sins. It’s easy for the non-Jew to shake his head at such apparently barbaric acts–until we remember how many chickens give up their wings and their lives on a typical NFL Sunday and dozens of other  occasions devoted to little more than mindless enjoyment and referee-cursing.

One rabbi who disagrees with the slaughter gets right to the point. Meat is more than just taste, though its taste can be great. It’s also tradition, family, community, memory:

“It is a kind of double world for me because I love all these people I’m with and I’m part of their world,” he says. “I wear a yarmulke; I’m with them; they’re wonderful people. But I disagree with them on this point.”

That’s the point I’ve been struggling with in numerous blog posts about my two-year effort to kick meat, as witness  here. More on this front to come soon.

Zombies Invade Blogger’s Home Town!

One of the World’s Shortest Lists must be: “List of Hollywood Movies Mentioning Garland, Texas,” the Dallas-area town where your humble host made a long and largely unsuccessful attempt to grow up.

Comes word now that the new Woody Harrelson flick “Zombieland” opens in Garland and starts out with a  snarky crack about the not-so-beauteous burb:

“I know it looks like zombies destroyed it, but that’s just Garland,” says one character.

Ouch! I feel like a hungry zombie just bit off my elbow.

How can these H’wood haters possibly say such things about the site of the upcoming 102nd Annual Tucker Reunion? There’s no justice.