Eleven weeks after injuring my foot and ankle playing pickleball I returned to the scene of my mishap Thursday for 2-1/2 hours of play time.
I held fast to my promise to Gilda not to play consecutive games. I cautiously moved around the court, making some shots that amazed me and my friends, missing others that I couldn’t truly blame on rustiness.
No ill effects. Next game is Tuesday.
The New York Times piled on: In its 100 things to love about Mel Brooks, who turned 100 June 28, number 44 was “No one got more laughs from Jewish names like Murray.”
To my knowledge, the name Murray became a foil during the 2000-year-old-man routines Brooks performed with his friend and sidekick Carl Reiner.
That shtick inspired countless comic Murrayisms, as I first related in a blog in 2009 (https://nosocksneededanymore.blogspot.com/search?q=Murray).
It’s a badge of honor, I keep telling myself, until the newest iteration provokes annoyance then laughter.
Power out: I’m not sure how widespread the power outage was that affected my neighborhood Thursday night at 10:45, but I take it as a sign my neighbors adhered to Con Edison’s importune to avoid running appliances before 10 pm because of the heat wave.
I dutifully complied, but running my washing machine and clothes dryer must have been similar to what many of my neighbors did, thus triggering the outage in our cul-de-sac development.
It lasted a few minutes, but had me scurrying about searching by flashlight for long-burning candles which we thankfully did not need to use.
