I don’t have a particular topic in mind, and while it occurs to me that I could open up my links to news pages and scour the daily dose of mayhem, gloom, and marketing for the latest tragedy/outrage/scourge/feel-good moment of the day, so that I might feed my hungry inner commentator, I sometimes feel that the media–like well-intentioned advice–is best left ignored. There’s something to the old “ignorance is bliss” chestnut.
Before I go further, here’s a picture I’m including because, let’s face it, people don’t click on, let alone read, blog posts that don’t have any pictures. (Ignorance tempered by cynicism should be mistaken for wit.)
The real reason I haven’t posted this weekend is that Peter Freuchen, the subject of my previous post, is so awesome a figure, and the photo of him and his wife so magnificently iconic, that I have been reluctant to create a new piece that would–that does–push him down the feed. That’s the kind of photo that might actually justify closing a blog with a sigh and a “I can’t do any better than this. It’s over.” But not to worry, I’ll trudge on.
Has that ever happened to any of you–you like a post so much you don’t want to post “on top” of it and make it slide down from the top of the blog.
It’s been a mixed bag weekend. The Steelers got hammered by the Ravens (which, admittedly, is better than getting hammered by teams I don’t respect, but still)–yet I missed most of the game in favor of dinner with friends. The local high school won in dramatic, overwhelming fashion, and my Alma mater got pummeled despite being nationally ranked before than game. Pitt won, tipping scales towards the positive.
My 3-year old lawnmower broke and requires a real pain in the ass repair–I can do it, but I have to remove the mowing deck and drill a hole–and while that sounds straight forward enough, it’s hours of fun. Sigh. The good news: my wife bought me a really sweet vintage cub cadet from a guy up the street, for a great price. It’s built like a tank and the engine purrs like new. I started it three times. Fourth time: nothing. There’s a minor electrical hitch somewhere, or maybe the starter died. Talk about “Are you kidding me” moments! Even needing a repair, it’s a great deal on a great machine, but enough is enough.
On the plus side, my neighbor gave me a big, beautiful beer for no other reason than he’s a good guy, and my daughter went out for Chinese food with her boyfriend. The latter might not sound like a big deal, but you want to know what I found in the refrigerator at midnight last night. Opps!–I stumbled and that General Tso’s accidentally fell in my stomach. I hate when that happens.