We’ve been on the road quite a bit for the last month, the last couple of weeks in particular (as noted Monday). We’re going back through some notes we jotted down during the regrettably unprogressive legislative secession that seems to have ended a long time ago (Thank God!), and entering them before they age out.
For much of the session, I did not wear a necktie. The proper professional dress for male legislators and for those who tell them how to vote is business casual at the least. But a January tumble that dislocated my left shoulder made it impossible to tie a necktie for a few weeks, very uncomfortable to struggle to tie one for a few more, and then a moderate struggle to do so as the end drew near..
I rather enjoyed having a good excuse for not wearing a tie, even if I had to have my left arm in a sling to be convincing.
I was comforted on Easter Sunday by a blog piece by Robert Reich, the diminutive (4-feet-11 inches) former Secretary of Labor in the Clinton administration.
The Washington Post reported two decades ago, when he ran for Governor of Massachusetts, “His tie hangs an inch and a half beneath his belt buckle, or just above his knees.”
If you are a guy and you have ever wished for a tie-less society, you might find Reich’s ruminations on the issue valuable:
(4) The end of the necktie? – Robert Reich (substack.com)
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Saw a newspaper article a few weeks ago about the reopening of closed church in Chula, a town of about 200 folks, near Chillicothe. The church closed five years ago. Seems that the place had become a large bee hive since the last chord was played on the piano or organ.
The article in The Pathway, a Missouri Baptist Convention publication described how Amanda Hicks, her husband, and a friend went in to clean the place and make it presentable for worship again only to be attacked by “a huge swarm of bees” that stung all three people several times before they could get to safety.
The bees eventually were uprooted, unhived, smoked out—there must be an appropriate phrase for such things—and the cleaning went on.
Among things removed—77 pounds of honey.
The newspaper says 20-25 people worship there now. Wonder if they ever sing a hymn that should be the church theme song: Sweet Jesus.
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No other sport can match baseball for having statistics that go beyond being obscure. Here’s one from the early games.
Pitcher Marcus Stroman of the New York Yankees has set a record for most strikeouts by a pitcher no more than five feet-seven inches tall. The record was first written down in 1901. He has now struck out 1,131 batters in his career, surpassing former Cincinnati pitcher Dolf Luque, a 21-year big leaguer.
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One reason the Missouri legislature has been so unproductive is that video lottery terminal operators, although insisting their machines are legal, want to pass a law legalizing them. The casino industry complains that the “VLT” is just a pseudonym for “slot machine,” and casinos are the only ones who can have legal slot machines and they don’t want anybody horning in on their business, even if the VLTs are far, far away from any of our 13 designated casinos.
Neither side will compromise and the legislature seemingly lacks the intelligence or the courage to draft a compromise and pass it, pressure from the VLT and Casino lobbyists notwithstanding.
Three years ago, Platte County Prosecutor Eric Zahnd became the only county prosecutor take serious action, getting a court to rule the machines illegal and crushing five of those machines in 2021.
Now there’s a second player—Springfield passed an ordinance in February declaring the machines illegal.
We’ve been kind of a vigilante on this issue. We won’t do business with a convenience store that has the things. At least, not locally. Well, there is one—but it’s the only one I know of that pops popcorn every day. I’ll spend a buck-50 maybe once a week there. But no gas.
Wonder if I can program my in-car GPS to show me stores without the machines?
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These machines bring to mind the tough old sergeant we had at the University of Missouri in the days when male students had to do two years of ROTC (Reserve Officers Training Corps to those too young to remember) who referred to Fort Leonard Wood as “the pimple on the butt of humanity.” We consider VLTs to be pimples on the convenience store industry, bodily part not specified.
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We had another of life’s adventures a few weeks ago. A sleep study.
From about 10:30 p.m. when we were ordered to bed and to go to sleep (I probably heard that order for the last time when I was about seven, if not earlier) until about 6 a.m., I tried to sleep in a strange bed with about two dozen wires attached from the top of my head down to my calves.
It did not go especially well but I was told afterwards that the machines had recorded “enough sleep” for a doctor to render an opinion about whether I was sleeping well, or well-sleeping.
The test recalls a joke Abraham Lincoln once told of a man who was being ridden out of town on a rail and when asked what he thought of the experience replied, “Well, if it wasn’t for the honor of the thing, I think I would rather walk.”
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The transfer portal is swinging both ways for colleges and universities these days. A lot of young men and women are moving from place to place almost yearly, looking for more money from the name-image-and-and likeness industry or more playing time to expose their talents to pro teams.
Wouldn’t you like to hear of one of these folks saying they’re transferring because the school of agriculture offers a better education? Or the school of business? Or the School of Education? Or Engineering? Or the pre-med programs is better?
Collegiate sports is interesting but should fans be loyal to programs whose carpetbagging players have no loyalty in return? I’ll watch the games on the teevee, and I often remember to do so, at least for football. But I haven’t bought a ticket in years.
We think the NCAA needs a rule requiring schools to report the grade point averages of the carpetbagging players, some of whom already have their degrees. We’d like to know how many of these athletes even get a degree.
And that’s it for the sports curmudgeon today.