Stupid things guys say when "Talkin' Sports"

So, bro, what's on your mind this fine sabbath morn, while waiting for your Starbucks coffee?
(Your pilgrim never says 'bro,' but he hears teh guyz use it like all the time.)

"My [New Orleans] Saints [that's a football team] are horrible this year. I don't know what to do about it."

Uh oh, sounds like the 'bro' is like, down two, 30 seconds on the clock and, Oh Noes! the ball's at THE OTHER TEAM'S TEN: TOO FAR to go for a field goal, and Win The Game.
This analogy, of course, is stupid sports stuff even your pilgrim knows, because easy. Also, teh guys always use sportz stuff to explain everthing. Otherwise, their 'buds' would not understand.

And yes, even your pilgrim knows there are plays that could be called. Like the 'Hail Mary.'

Here's how it works: At the snap, the QB kneels, Tebow-like, prays to the Blessed Virgin, who actually doesn't care for football, then rises to throw the ball to the essential asshole (his spelling of  "team" uses the letter 'I') known as the wide receiver.

The QB's prayer is, "Yo, Mary, Mother of God: Please guide my pass to the receiver, turn the ball into Velcro loops and the receiver's hands into Velcro hooks. Amen. p.s. Been in a dry spell lately. Would really like to get laid tonite. I mean, you're like a chick and all, but you got powers, and stuff, right?")

Let us now praise: Jimmy Page

Us old guitarist guys really love this dude. Like Hendrix, like Clapton, he changed the genre.

Here he is, with the Foo Fighters, Live at Wembley Stadium 2008, performing "Ramble On."

All kinds o' love, actually

* Friday evening, outside the CVS on Dupont Circle, the woman on her phone says, "OK, thanks for listening. Hope you have fun there."

* 22 & P, one Thursday evening: Two guys, one woman, turn the corner. The woman hugs her friend goodbye, while the other guy stands aside. She goes her way; her friend returns to his guy, holds his hand as they walk into The Fireplace, a famous gay bar here.

* Starbucks, Dupont Circle, Sunday, "Hope I didn't make you come too far," the guy says. "No, I live in Adams Morgan," she says. "Thanks for meeting me," he says. "See you tomorrow."

* Connecticut Avenue, Sunday, outside Kramer's books: Dad, then Mom, hug their son goodbye. They seem grateful and happy to have been together, sad to part, though they aren't showing it yet. Their brief mundane small talk after the hugs confirms this, and their love too.

All this: Love Actually.

Writers, on writing

“This book forced itself upon me while I was trying to write something else ...”

Northrop Frye (1912-91), Preface to his “Anatomy of Criticism,” 1957

Quotes, from places along my way

“The mysterious thing about any art is that other people understand.”

Elizabeth Bishop (1911-79), 1974.

Songs I love

This is my favorite tune by Rush: Spirit of Radio, here in a really great live performance.
All three of these dudes -- Geddy Lee (vocals, bass), Neil Peart (drums), Alex Lifeson (guitar) -- are older than even my two dear grandsons' Most Proud Grandfather (Hey Kevin! Hey Kyle!) if only by a year or two.

Another performance here. Dunno name of chicken-suit-person onstage. I like, however, the working dryers there, turned on and tumbling -- something -- right next to the speaker stacks.
I Love These Guys.

My Fourth, as it was

1.0 Slept late.Really late. (Very nice.)

2.0 Venturing at last outside, in my 9th floor hall: The scent of sunscreen lotion, lingering after the wearer had left.

2.1. My expedition was: Go to store. Buy Yuengling, For drinking. Yay, Yuengling. Historic American family brewing.

3-point Oh: Then in my elevator back: babes bearing beers back to their apartment. (Update: It's very true. They had beers, they were going back to their apartment. Also, I like lotsa alliteration.)