Once in a while something happens to remind me that, in the grand scheme of things, my wife and I haven’t been together all that long. Case in point, the other night. She came home from work . As she clicked the car lock button and started across the yard she saw where a few burned waffles (Eggo type) were scattered in the large common area of the complex.
DeeDee: “Honey, did you burn some waffles?”
Me: “No…um…, Sweetie, what is it about my personality that would indicate to you that, if I burned waffles, I would Frisbee them into the yard?
That got me to thinking about logic. How do we, as a society, arrive at a point that makes so little sense? You find it in all areas of life. Logic fails.
We’ve all been to karaoke gatherings. I know that, on occasions that I would sooner forget, your humble correspondent has been known to underwhelm the assembled throng with my own tortured rendition of Proud Mary or Selections Elvis Du Jour. Karaoke is harmless fun, and once in awhile someone stands up who can really sing. People clap along and a good time is had by all. Someone springs for another round of Dos Equis and the night sails along. It’s a good time between friends.
Karaoke writ large is…something different. A prominent entertainment message board recently had to take down a post where someone threatened to hunt down and end the life of someone who voted for the wrong singer. Really?
While at the grocery store recently I decided on the spur of the moment to buy my wife some flowers (something that I suspect I’m going to need to do within minutes of the publication of this column). The sign said, “One dozen roses, $9.99. Well, you can’t beat a deal like that! I picked out the nicest dozen, got the requisite “Awwww”s from the checker lady, and started home. Since it was a beautiful day I had walked to the store. By the time I got home the petals were falling like dandruff.
Now you may say, “That’s what you get for spending less than 10 bucks on roses you worthless cheapskate.” But that doesn’t answer the logic question. How did the roses know they were cheap?
The advent of the Global Positioning System has been a boon to marriages everywhere. No longer are the macho members of the tribe reduced to choosing between asking directions from pimply faced ARCO gas jockeys named Skip, or suffering the derision of our ladies while we take a moment to get our flawless inborn compass bearings. We KNOW where we are. We just need a second. GPS has solved the problem.
Except when it hasn’t. I decided to take a leisurely Saturday trip to Fox Island. I set the Garmin, listened to “Jill” the Garmin babe get me started, and set out.
Except Jill didn’t take me there. Jill took me to
Imagine my surprise, 2 hours after I walked in. Logic told me that I should have been enjoying nature’s wonders in a healthy setting. Jill failed me. Darn her.
Servings per container: 2.5. Yeah right.
My bank charges $35.00 if I get overdrawn. How does this make sense? If I had any money I wouldn’t have gone overdrawn in the first place. The only logical thing for them to do is to deposit x amount of dollars into my account until the numbers turn black again. This is the least they can do for my allowing them to fondle my money on Wall Street in the first place. See how much better things would be if I ran the world?
There are two outstanding institutions of higher education in the great state of Oregon. I speak, of course, of the University of Oregon and Linfield College. Oregon State, mostly known for their Washington Generals impression each and every November, accepts a fair number of animal husbandry majors into its pastures every fall as well. Football has been adopted at OSU as a demonstration sport, much like Ultimate Frisbee. Even demonstration sports need coaches. Enter Michael Joseph Riley, born July 6, 1953 in Wallace, Idaho.
Since Mike Riley came to OSU, left OSU, came back to OSU after a …problematic…stop in San Diego, he has amassed a record of 72-63 in Corvallis. That tenure has included such luminosity as December trips to El Paso, San Francisco, and home to his La-Z-Boy.
Undeterred by such mediocrity, one college football sage recently ranked Pac-12 college football coaches into “tiers.” It left me in “tears”. He placed Mr. Riley in a “tier” one level above the shooting star of college football, one Charles “Chip” Kelly.
Coach A: 72-63, 0 Pac-12 titles, 0 BCS bowl appearances, 0 title game appearances, 1 hopelessness, 1 pointlessness
Coach B: 34-6, 3 Pac-12 titles, 3 BCS bowl appearances, 1 BCS bowl victory, 1 title game appearance, 2x Pac-10 Coach of the Year (2009-2010)
Eddie Robinson Coach of the Year (2010)
Walter Camp Coach of the Year (2010)
Sporting News Coach of the Year (2010)
Associated Press Coach of the Year (2010)
AFCA Coach of the Year (2010)
It’s enough to make me want to chuck a waffle into my yard.
Kim Hastings is a 1984 graduate of Northwest Christian College. He cut his journalistic teeth as sports editor of a paper in his home town of Fortuna, CA, and, later as a columnist for the Longview Daily News in Longview, WA.
He saw his first Oregon game in 1977 and never missed a home game from 1981 until a bout with pneumonia cut his streak short in 1997. He was one of the proud 3200 on a bitterly cold night in Shreveport, Louisiana in 1989 for the Independence Bowl, and continues to be big supporter of Oregon sports. He is an active participant on the various Oregon Ducks messageboards as “TacomaDuck.”
For Greybeards … the EYES Have it!
Want to know a secret about web behavior? Readers don’t like long stretches of sentences in comment posts without any breaks, and most readers don’t even like long paragraphs.
Break it up! After every third sentence in your post…hit “enter” on your keyboard twice if your computer is a PC, or “return” twice if you have a Mac.
This creates natural breaks between scads of sentences, and so many of us thank you for making it easier on our “Greybeard-age” eyes!