It’s NY Marathon Sunday.
I’ve never run a marathon, never took up jogging for that matter. Bad for the knees, I always reasoned, only to have my precautions wasted. My knees were assaulted during a basketball game some 15 years ago when they hooked up with a much stronger set than mine. Knee on knee contact is supposed to be among the most intense of injuries. I wasn’t bothered by the contact when it occurred but within two years I underwent surgery on my left knee. After returning to the hardwood upon completing my rehabilitation, my right knee started acting up. Rather than undergo another operation, I stopped playing basketball. It was no big loss to the game James Naismith invented.
My physical problems not being the intended reason for this blog, let me continue with my marathon memory. Gilda’s brother Carl did run marathons, so one Marathon Sunday some three decades ago we decided to brave the chilly weather and cheer him on. We waited behind blue police barricades at the 20-mile point, up in the Bronx. Carl was a good runner. We expected him to pass within an hour of the leaders.
We waited and waited for nearly four hours. No Carl. Numb from the chill and hungry, we headed home, figuring Carl must have pulled up lame before our vantage point. Being pre-cell phone days, we had to wait until we returned home to contact him.
Turned out Carl was not injured, that he indeed had kept to his expected pace. But the stress of the race had so contorted his image that we didn’t recognize him as he loped by. Ah, well...
Carl doesn’t run marathons anymore, but he jogs almost daily with his German shepherd dog Pas in Riverside Park and environs.
Swimming Update: I still need water wings. Or those pastel water noodles to stay afloat. A couple of things conspired to thwart my effort to learn to swim last summer.
First, my friendly, competent instructor Ken and I couldn’t maintain a consistent lesson schedule. I think it had something to do with Ken and his need to go to something he called “work.” We managed just three lessons, including the one where Ken had to “rescue” me in deep water. Perhaps that led to reason number two—Ken needed angioplasty shortly thereafter. Well, there’s always next year, but I’m going to insist Ken take a physical before he gets back into the water.
Kim and Kris: If you’re waiting for my thoughts on the nuptuals that are no more, sorry to disappoint you. I do hope, however, the public is not being set up for a spin-off reality series on Kris Humphries’ comeback attempt to be Mr. Kim Kardashian or his battle to re-enter the real world.
Showing posts with label Kim Kardashian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kim Kardashian. Show all posts
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Must See TV
Tonight at 9 you’ve got your choice of special TV fare:
PBS is showing a documentary on the War of 1812 tonight at 9. The conflict between the United States and Great Britain provided some lasting memories for our nation, including the burning of the White House and Dolley Madison’s heroic effort to save the portrait of George Washington; Old Ironsides, commissioned as the USS Constitution; and Andrew “Old Hickory” Jackson’s victory at the Battle of New Orleans, a feat recounted in a 1959 song of the same name by Johnny Horton.
It was Horton’s song that led to one of Gilda’s and my most enjoyable triumphs in a game of Trivial Pursuit. About eight years ago, Dan’s ultimate frisbee team from Boston spent the night with us on their way to a tournament. All college graduates, they divided up into four-man teams in a Baby Boomer edition challenge match against Gilda and me.
We scorched the board, quickly landing on all the special spots at the bottom of each spoke, earning wedges on our first tries for all but the Music/Entertainment category. It took several attempts, but we finally answered a music question correctly and made our way up to the middle of the wheel. When we landed on the center spot, all we had to do is answer the question chosen by our young opponents from the choices on the next query card.
Seeking to exploit our weakness, they picked the Music/Entertainment question. They were confident they had us stumped when they read: “What song advised not to shoot ‘till we looked them in the eye.’”
You could have knocked those fellows over with the proverbial feather when Gilda and I not only named the song but also sang all the lyrics to the Battle of New Orleans.
History never sounded sweeter. If you’d like to hear the song, follow this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsRK3DNoa_Q
Also at 9, on E!, is the second installment of Kim’s Fairytale Wedding: A Kardashian Event.
I didn’t see yesterday’s first installment. Didn’t DVR it either. Lest you share my cynicism for everything Kardashian, it might help to keep in mind that her fans are not mindless wannabes. According to Nielsen research from early 2010, which I am confident is not too different today, Kardashian viewers tend to be single, college-educated women with no children, white-collar jobs and annual salaries of more than $60,000.
No matter how hard I shake my head at the Kardashian effect, I must admit Kim and her family are quite successful business people. Reportedly, Kim alone has amassed a $40 million fortune from reality TV shows, clothing and jewelry lines and assorted marketing activities. Not bad, not bad at all.
PBS is showing a documentary on the War of 1812 tonight at 9. The conflict between the United States and Great Britain provided some lasting memories for our nation, including the burning of the White House and Dolley Madison’s heroic effort to save the portrait of George Washington; Old Ironsides, commissioned as the USS Constitution; and Andrew “Old Hickory” Jackson’s victory at the Battle of New Orleans, a feat recounted in a 1959 song of the same name by Johnny Horton.
It was Horton’s song that led to one of Gilda’s and my most enjoyable triumphs in a game of Trivial Pursuit. About eight years ago, Dan’s ultimate frisbee team from Boston spent the night with us on their way to a tournament. All college graduates, they divided up into four-man teams in a Baby Boomer edition challenge match against Gilda and me.
We scorched the board, quickly landing on all the special spots at the bottom of each spoke, earning wedges on our first tries for all but the Music/Entertainment category. It took several attempts, but we finally answered a music question correctly and made our way up to the middle of the wheel. When we landed on the center spot, all we had to do is answer the question chosen by our young opponents from the choices on the next query card.
Seeking to exploit our weakness, they picked the Music/Entertainment question. They were confident they had us stumped when they read: “What song advised not to shoot ‘till we looked them in the eye.’”
You could have knocked those fellows over with the proverbial feather when Gilda and I not only named the song but also sang all the lyrics to the Battle of New Orleans.
History never sounded sweeter. If you’d like to hear the song, follow this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsRK3DNoa_Q
Also at 9, on E!, is the second installment of Kim’s Fairytale Wedding: A Kardashian Event.
I didn’t see yesterday’s first installment. Didn’t DVR it either. Lest you share my cynicism for everything Kardashian, it might help to keep in mind that her fans are not mindless wannabes. According to Nielsen research from early 2010, which I am confident is not too different today, Kardashian viewers tend to be single, college-educated women with no children, white-collar jobs and annual salaries of more than $60,000.
No matter how hard I shake my head at the Kardashian effect, I must admit Kim and her family are quite successful business people. Reportedly, Kim alone has amassed a $40 million fortune from reality TV shows, clothing and jewelry lines and assorted marketing activities. Not bad, not bad at all.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Catching Up
Am I the only one who thinks the leaves have stayed on the trees longer this year? Maybe it’s the relatively warm autumn? Maybe, it’s because there have been few windy rain storms, like the one the other night? Maybe it’s global warming? Whatever, it seems the foliage has stayed with us deeper into this season than in years’ past.
By the way, our Winter King Hawthorn tree held onto a few leaves through Finley Hawthorne Forseter’s first birthday on Tuesday.
I failed to mention last week my mother’s 93rd birthday would have been celebrated last Thursday (she was born Nov. 11, 1917, in Lodz, Poland, arriving in New York about four years later). My mother enjoyed a good adventure yarn, in print or on film. One of her favorites, which she passed down to me, was The Scarlet Pimpernel. She made me read the book and we enjoyed watching the Leslie Howard-Merle Oberson film when it showed up on TV. It did so again this morning and I took the opportunity to spend some time with youthful memories.
My mom would be just slightly older than the women to whom I deliver meals each week. I always ask if they need assistance reaching something on a high shelf. No, they reply. Whether in a single family home or an apartment, they live in a one-dimensional world. Nothing of importance, nothing not needed for everyday life—plates, cups, linens—is stored outside their immediate reach.
One of the stores we frequented when our children were young was Danny’s Cycles. We bought Dan and Ellie their first bikes there. Also my first two-wheeler (a story for another day). We always said hello to Danny, whose father named the store after him and who had given the store to Danny by the time we began patronizing it.
A few weeks ago, in need of new pedals for my exercise bike, I stopped into Danny’s and asked Steve, who had been with the store for about 20 years, since he was a teenager, where Danny was. He was in Florida, retired. I was shocked. Danny couldn’t have been more than 40-45 years old. He’s doing volunteer work there, having been bought out, said Steve. I was pleased to see new ownership had retained Steve. Pleasure turned into satisfaction when Steve told me he was the new owner.
One of my relatives, who shall go nameless lest I embarrass the poor soul, recently sent me some “great literary taunts,” among which comes the following which makes perfect sense when applied to Tea Party members:
"They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human
knowledge."
--- Thomas Brackett Reed
No doubt my relative will not be amused, being of the conservative persuasion, to the endless regret of the relative’s spouse. But if you can’t take a joke, what’s the point of sending jokes?
Conservatism creeps up on you. It’s commonly understood that as one ages one becomes more conservative, more set in one’s ways. Probably true. What I used to accept as acceptable college age behavior I now tsk-tsk at. My recent admonition against Four Loko and other alcohol-caffeine drinks might fit into that category if it weren’t for the real danger those mixtures pose. Glad to see the FDA agrees and is forcing the makers of such potables to cease and desist.
Troubling is the reaction of too many (underage) college students to stock up on the brew while it’s still in stores.
Finally, I will not embarrass myself by revealing what infinitesimal percentage of Twitter followers my blog has compared to the 5.3 million who breathlessly await the latest nail-clipping, bra-busting, hair-splitting, pout-mouthed tweet from Kim Kardashian (please, nobody say they don’t know who she is, but just in case, here’s a link from today’s paper: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/18/fashion/18KIM.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=kim%20kardashian&st=cse).
Kim, if I may be so bold to call her by her first name, might have started her notoriety with a sex tape, but she’s one helluva marketer.
By the way, our Winter King Hawthorn tree held onto a few leaves through Finley Hawthorne Forseter’s first birthday on Tuesday.
I failed to mention last week my mother’s 93rd birthday would have been celebrated last Thursday (she was born Nov. 11, 1917, in Lodz, Poland, arriving in New York about four years later). My mother enjoyed a good adventure yarn, in print or on film. One of her favorites, which she passed down to me, was The Scarlet Pimpernel. She made me read the book and we enjoyed watching the Leslie Howard-Merle Oberson film when it showed up on TV. It did so again this morning and I took the opportunity to spend some time with youthful memories.
My mom would be just slightly older than the women to whom I deliver meals each week. I always ask if they need assistance reaching something on a high shelf. No, they reply. Whether in a single family home or an apartment, they live in a one-dimensional world. Nothing of importance, nothing not needed for everyday life—plates, cups, linens—is stored outside their immediate reach.
One of the stores we frequented when our children were young was Danny’s Cycles. We bought Dan and Ellie their first bikes there. Also my first two-wheeler (a story for another day). We always said hello to Danny, whose father named the store after him and who had given the store to Danny by the time we began patronizing it.
A few weeks ago, in need of new pedals for my exercise bike, I stopped into Danny’s and asked Steve, who had been with the store for about 20 years, since he was a teenager, where Danny was. He was in Florida, retired. I was shocked. Danny couldn’t have been more than 40-45 years old. He’s doing volunteer work there, having been bought out, said Steve. I was pleased to see new ownership had retained Steve. Pleasure turned into satisfaction when Steve told me he was the new owner.
One of my relatives, who shall go nameless lest I embarrass the poor soul, recently sent me some “great literary taunts,” among which comes the following which makes perfect sense when applied to Tea Party members:
"They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human
knowledge."
--- Thomas Brackett Reed
No doubt my relative will not be amused, being of the conservative persuasion, to the endless regret of the relative’s spouse. But if you can’t take a joke, what’s the point of sending jokes?
Conservatism creeps up on you. It’s commonly understood that as one ages one becomes more conservative, more set in one’s ways. Probably true. What I used to accept as acceptable college age behavior I now tsk-tsk at. My recent admonition against Four Loko and other alcohol-caffeine drinks might fit into that category if it weren’t for the real danger those mixtures pose. Glad to see the FDA agrees and is forcing the makers of such potables to cease and desist.
Troubling is the reaction of too many (underage) college students to stock up on the brew while it’s still in stores.
Finally, I will not embarrass myself by revealing what infinitesimal percentage of Twitter followers my blog has compared to the 5.3 million who breathlessly await the latest nail-clipping, bra-busting, hair-splitting, pout-mouthed tweet from Kim Kardashian (please, nobody say they don’t know who she is, but just in case, here’s a link from today’s paper: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/18/fashion/18KIM.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=kim%20kardashian&st=cse).
Kim, if I may be so bold to call her by her first name, might have started her notoriety with a sex tape, but she’s one helluva marketer.
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