Anyone foolish enough to tell me “We sure need some rain” is in for severe interdiction from me.
Warning: You will be handed some form of cruel punishment. Two brutalities instantly come to mind:
You’ll be forced to watch Tuesday’s presidential debate on a continuous loop for two days. Salt in the wound would be personally getting admonished by Chris Wallace. I swear my dear, sweet Grandma, who finally got to go see her friends at 105, was more forceful.
Or maybe you could attend Atlanta Falcons coach Dan Quinn’s going away party. No firm date for this one. If the Falcons are as bad as I hear, this punishment won’t drag on.
Unlike the Falcons, the weather is, in a word, perfect. The sky is a perfect shade of blue. Crisp, clear nights go so well with chilly mornings. I’ll take a heat index of nothing. Bring on those perfect mid-70s temperatures.
Topping off this bliss is the Braves being perfect. We’re still alive in the playoffs. The starting pitching, far from perfect all season, was perfect. The bullpen came through.
It was out of habit that made me ready to lament another playoff loss and singing wait ‘til next year. After all, our guys hadn’t won a playoff series since 2001.
The monkey is off the Braves’ back. I hope we have fun all month.
I need something to do with my Sundays. I have been reading and binge-watching Netflix offerings.
Chris turned me on to “The Good Place,” the Ted Danson series. There’s a documentary about the Challenger space shuttle, a prequel to “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” titled “Ratched.” It’s about the meanest nurse ever born.
As long as the weather holds up, I’m perfectly content to feed the deer who frequently visit. The goal of our yard being a refuge from life-and-deer death is still in play. Proof of this: The back gate remains unlatched.
My NFL boycott is progressing nicely, having not watched a solitary second. It seems messages to give an Italian “stugots” to the spoiled, pampered pros is reaching groundswell status.
First Amendment rights and a lack of respect is not viewed kindly by members of the military who have served. If you’re seeking a lump in your throat, read about soldiers and sailors who mourned fallen colleagues.
It galvanized me to quit the NFL. It’s lost me forever. And mainstream media is close to having the same effect.
Tuesday’s debate was a debacle. Chris Wallace deserves to have Ric Flair give him a “South of the Border.” I never liked his dad, Mike. The only reason to watch “60 Minutes” was to crack-up at Andy Rooney.
The debate was like watching a pair of schoolboys play “I know you are, but what am I?” Nothing was accomplished. I’ll venture to guess no one changed who they were voting for.
Lots of pity for parents having to explain to youngsters why two grown men were throwing rocks and calling each other names. Only if Sister Rosann Fraher, who recently celebrated being a Sister of Mercy in California for 60 years, could have had a shot at them.
I know decency and respect for one another would have prevailed.
We’ve got five weeks before Election Day. We’re looking for some sort of normalcy. A seamless, smooth election process would inspire confidence and provide a peek at what most of us want: the way it used to be.
It’s not a lot to ask.
Put away the pistols, firecrackers and hatred.
Act like adults, at least until November 3rd. Be a gracious winner and a gracious loser.
The next day, feel free to shake up each other’s Coke cans and stick gum in one another’s hair.
Your behavior is wearing us out.
Mike Tasos’ column is published every other weekend. Comments can be sent to firstname.lastname@example.org. He is also on Facebook.