Wry On The Rocks

     As a transplanted Floridian, my enjoyment of  the Winter Olympics has been tempered by a mixture of ignorance, awe and, at times, downright apathy.

     First, the ignorance; hockey.  Growing up in Florida in the pre-ice age, I always assumed the word hockey had something to do with phlegm.  To this day, I don’t understand rules;  like icing.  Is it an illegal physical property or is it something that a player does…as in, oh,oh Pierre just iced?  And then there’s the contradictory nature of the rules.  You’re allowed to have a player called the “Enforcer ” on the ice, but are penalized for a “third-man-in”?

     Then there’s the awe;  skeleton racing …. watching  men and women lying face down on little “skeletons”  going 90 miles an hour down an ice chute.  I suspect that when growing up these people were not allowed to play with other kids in the neighborhood. 

     Then there’s the apathy; curling.  How did shuffleboard on ice become an Olympic sport?  Are there that many people interested in watching a sport that features two men with brooms?  The Zamboni machine offers more drama which is why curling received such low ratings.  I think next time they should allow each team an Enforcer.  That I would watch.

In 1979, K.T. Smith, a patron of Mugs Away bar in Laguna Niguel, Cal. offered to buy a beer for anyone who would walk across the street and moon the Amtrak train when it passed.  This year Mr. Smith would have to be prepared to buy drinks for approximately 8,000 people who showed up to drop their trousers at the passing Amtrak trains.  Located halfway between LA and San Diego, it obviously need not it be said that there is very little to do in Laguna Niguel, Cal.  

When the crowd starts to tire of mooning passing trains, I have another crowd building venture for the Mugs Away bar.  How about a contest to choose a better name!

  The 113th running of the Boston marathon took place today with 26,331 runners signed up for the 26 mile race.  I don’t get it.  The whole running thing.  I tried it once and didn’t like it.  It was in the 9th grade when every red-blooded Florida boy was expected to go out for track.  I was told to run the mile.  Nobody else wanted the job.  Cool guys did not run the mile.  Cool guys pole-vaulted or ran the hurdles or sprinted in the 100-yard dash, but they did not run the mile.  I ran the mile.  I ran the mile with fellow competitors, most of whom wore thick glasses and shorts two sizes too big.

Actually, to claim that I ran the mile is a bit of a stretch.  The only instruction the coach ever gave me was to pace myself.  I was never good at running, but I was the best damn pacer you ever saw.  In fact, I think I still  hold the Orange County record for pacing the mile.  You know how marathoners are always trying to out-do their “personal best”…their PB?  My PB was finishing before the bus left!

(read more of this day at www.wrysandwherefores.com)

A Duxbury resident wrote a letter to our local paper today complaining that she had found a dead squirrel that had been choked to death with a plastic twist tie.  She declaimed the murder and called for the culprit to reveal him/herself.  I don’t particularly care for squirrels, but I share her concern for people who would murder any animal in such a cruel way.  But, here’s my question.  How the hell did someone chase down a squirrel in order to choke it to death?  I’ve got 3 dogs that can do the 100 in 5 seconds and they can’t catch a squirrel!  Is there really someone in Duxbury who is quick enough to run down a squirrel?  Who just happens to carry a supply of plastic twist ties?  My admiration and awe to such a person!

Here’s a warning to all Yuengling & Son beer drinkers…it can seriously affect your ability to see clearly.  Not in the usual sense.  Pat Noone, an executive at Yuengling brewery was just named New England Patriot fan of the year after 30 years of driving 7 to 10 hours from his Pennsylvannia home to every Patriot home game.  Not enough you say?  Right.  How about the fact that he built a replica of the Patriots locker room complete with a urinal in his home.  Still not enough?  How about a 9 foot wooden bear painted as #52, Ted Johnson, in his front yard?  Or the Pats logo insribed in his wedding ring?  Still wouldn’t give him the award?  OK, how about he told his then wife-to-be that she would always be #2 in his eyes to the Patriots.  Enough?  And the Patriots actually encourage this sort of behavior?