• Gentlemen, prepare your forks.

    I will go out on a limb and say that the Bucs season is done. They are effectively four games back with seven games to go. Oh, the agony of defeat…

    As sweet as a super bowl win last year was, having to hear every sports commentator say, “what’s wrong with the world champs?”, is painful. Just when you’re getting used to the label “world champs”, things start to revert to 1993. Does anyone know where Sam Wyche is? I hear Craig Erickson is available.

  • The sticky spot on the floor.

    There are days when everything seems to go just great… and then there are all of the other days. There are those other days when things are not particularly bad, but certainly not good. You make progress, but it seems that it comes despite some invisible, dark force lurking around the corner.

    In a playful moment with your child, you slide in your stocking feet across the smooth living room floor. The stereo pumps energy into the air and life seems good. Then the dark force shows up. Your foot hits the half eaten, halloween gummy bear that has been laying in wait for someone in stocking feet to come sliding across the room. The coefficient of friction between your foot, the half eaten gummy bear, and the floor is much higher than you were counting on. Your foot stops as your upper body continues, nearly unabated. Your upper body changes velocity due to the change in heading – from straight ahead to arcing towards the floor.

    Sprawl, flop, crash, topple, founder, lurch, stagger, careen, totter… aren’t thesauruses great fun?

  • Not done yet.

    It is well past Beth’s bed time on Halloween night. She has spent the evening foraging for sweets. The doorbell rings. It is another costumed youngster seeking treats. Beth darts to the door, eager to be the bearer of said treats. She hands out the candy with a grin of immense satisfaction. The experience leaves her hungry for more. She peers out the door, looking for more. Finding none, she steps out on the front porch. Beth’s parents tell her it’s time to come in and get ready for bed. She protests. Her parents beseech her not to ruin the good karma of a good evening. “Didn’t you have fun tonight?”, her mother asks.

    “Yes, but I want to have more fun.”