Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Back and rambling

If you think I fell off the planet the last few months, you're close. It was baseball season, so I was in places like Chamberlain, Burke, Chadron, Martin, Tabor. Mostly though, my inattention to the blog was due to a lack of a computer.

The laptop blew up and I was relegated to using the Kindle, which is fine for surfing, but not so good at posting. But as luck would have it, it's Junior's 17th birthday this week and I bought us a laptop for his birthday. So no excuses now.

The thing is, I wish I'd been a more responsible blogger this summer, because I thought of some really great things to write about as I chased foul balls around the country. Most centered around stupid people I ran into. While few in number, bigots, idiots and morons always seem to stick out more than normal people.

Mostly, this summer reaffirmed my belief that as much as people like to complain about "kids now-a-days", it's actually the adults who are the problem. As I like to say, too many clowns, not enough circuses.

But I'll save that for another day. Today's lesson refers back to Junior and is titled: "Mom is always right."

As you may be able to make out in the photo, there is a fly inside that foggy cup. While unusual, the more unusual thing is that the fly has been inside that cup and on our kitchen counter for four days now.

It all harkens back to a long-running argument between my son and my wife. Son was perpetuating the teenage boy myth that flies only live 24 hours. Wife said she didn't believe that. Son said it was a scientific fact. This discussion has been going on for quite sometime, probably for as long as it's taken wife to catch a fly in a cup, which happened four days ago. (The funniest part to me is imagining how long she's been chasing flies around the kitchen with a cup. But I digress.)

As it's not enough to flaunt the boy's failure for just 48 hours, declare victory and let the fly go, now the kid is forced to look at his failed "scientific fact" every morning and evening as the fly flies around in its glass day after day for who knows how many more days or weeks. What's his answer to this: It's probably some sort of super fly.

Poor kid. He just needs to do what I did long ago: Admit that she's right (even when she's not). And move along.

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