April 12, 2013
Dear Everyone:
A much quieter, and much more restful, week than last week.
“Jeannie” and I did visit the “jock doc” (orthopedic specialist) on
Monday, for a follow-up that resulted in, “Everything looks OK.
Come back in about three weeks.”
After that, not much, other than watching TV, reading and other forms of
relaxation. The only problem
has been a proliferation of
basketball on television.
First,
college playoffs, now
professional.
Way too much basketball.
Now, before you think I have anything against basketball, I want to
point out that I played plenty of basketball when I was a kid.
Yes, I’m all of five feet tall; but what kid didn’t play
basketball?
You may be thinking, “Really?
You played basketball?
What position?”
That’s right. We grew up in
western Oregon, where it rains all winter long.
So, even though there was the usual basketball hoop mounted over
the garage door, we couldn’t play outside.
Playing basketball in two inches of standing water brings a whole
new meaning to the word “dribble”.
Consequently, we moved indoors and I was the one who figured out
how to climb up on top of the
jukebox and be the basket.
Naturally, we adjusted the rules to fit the situation (just like
backyard baseball.) For
instance, no bank shots off the backboard, ‘cause that would be my nose.
And no hanging onto the rim, unless you wanted to land on the
floor with your little sister on top of you, screaming her lungs out.
I really wouldn’t recommend that.
Actually, we had a lot of fun.
Of course, I played “real” basketball in high school gym class.
That’s where I perfected my technique for getting
free throws.
You see, the player who has the ball isn’t allowed to touch a player
from the opposite team if that player isn’t doing anything wrong.
It’s considered a “personal foul”.
Well, it took me very little time to realize that if I got three to five
feet ahead of the player with the ball and then just
stood between her and the
basket, she would invariably run me over.
Then I’d be on the floor and the teacher would blow her whistle
and I’d get a free throw.
You may be thinking, “Why didn’t she just go around you?”
Answer: Probably didn’t see
me. Also, paying absolutely
no attention when the teacher was explaining the rules.
Too busy worrying about her hair.
This was high school
gym class, after all.
After a while they started to catch on.
You could see them warning each other:
“Watch out for that speed bump over there.
She’s tricky. She’ll
get in your way.” But up
until then, I got a lot of
free throws.
You may be thinking, “Great.
Did you earn a lot of points that way?”
Points? Did I say
anything about the ball getting within two feet of the rim?
Four feet, ten inches tall.
Add to that, the
hand-eye coordination of a
pineapple.
But it was a free throw! The
operative word here is “free”!
It’s like those free bags at the cosmetic counters.
Spend $50 and we’ll give you a free bag with our logo on it.
I have an entire closet devoted to free bags with cosmetic logos
on them. They’re
free!
You may be thinking, “So this is basketball as it relates to shopping?”
Silly.
Everything
relates to shopping.
Love, as always,
Pete
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