~~The man was mocking the anti-gun violence steps taken by the POTUS and New York State. “Just outlaw the crazies from getting guns, and all your problems are solved.” After I gulped a few times at all the things wrong with what he said, I asked, “And what about the mean people? And the haters? And the jealous? What about the drug-crazed or drug-deprived? And the seemingly sane who snap?” (He just laughed and said, “Ha! Ha! Outlawing mean people; that’s funny.”)
~~The price of a stamp is going up. I’m wondering if the U.S. Postal Service is going to attempt to claw back the millions it spent sponsoring that big bully/major doper, Lance Armstrong. I never really understood why the USPS needed to gather goodwill over in France anyway. Maybe their advertising plan was designed so that people who were watching a never-ending bike race would suddenly slap their foreheads and say, “Oh, NOW I know where to buy stamps!”
~~I’m guessing this means Lance Armstrong won’t get in the baseball Hall of Fame, either.
~~The government settlement with big lenders over foreclosure wrongs was being discussed by an attorney who scoffed at the notion that homeowners needed wholesale protection. “Please,” he sneered, “feeling sorry for borrowers is so five years ago.”
~~When dogs are playing, can you call it horsing around?
~~Thank you to the readers who contacted me after reading my Huffington Post piece on anniversary anxiety http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lita-smithmines/im-still-here_b_2468236.html. It was gratifying to hear your own stories and reassurances about “crosses to bear.” One reader told me that she never drives on the parkway where her mother was killed by a drunk driver; she’s sad that there’d be no “magical date” for her that she can cross off and say “That’s that. Move on.”
~~Why do people insist on knowing stuff they don’t? This week, after I gave my name on the phone and started to spell it, the woman on the other end said, “I know, I know! L-I-N-D-A, right?” The same day, I sat beside a woman and baby in a doctor’s waiting room. A probable patient nearby cooed at the baby and said to the putative mother, “She’s how old? Oh, don’t tell me! My granddaughter’s a bit older than her, so she’s… she’s… she’s six months!” The baby was 11 ½ months old.
Have a great weekend! Hockey’s back!
LET’S GO RANGERS!
GO, NY KNICKS, GO!