Be Glad You're Not A Lion

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I AM THANKFUL. And sometimes I am thankfuller (read this and that will make some sense).

For one thing I am thankful I was never drafted by the Detroit Lions.

Here’s the thing about being a drummer in a marching band in a very long parade—you get blisters, blisters that break and ooze and bleed. By the end of a parade your hands look something like a turkey leg bone after the big meal. While most of the band members play only occasionally during the course of the parade, the drum line must play the  e-n-t-i-r-e  time. 

I commented on this reality within ear shot of my high school band director; once. The former army drill sergeant-turned band director pulled the cigar from the corner of his mouth, stuck his baton into my chest and said, “Suck it up kid. It’s an occupational hazard.” (The cigar part may only be real in my over-dramatized remembrance of the event.)

Although I had no idea what an occupational hazard was, I now had a working definition. If I could find my Funk & Wagnalls I’m sure it would say something about a risk or condition inherent in a given occupation.

So before you decide to be a bass drummer in the marching band, count the costs. About three miles in, that sucker gets heavy and your hands will bleed, and your shoes will be covered in horse crap, because the band always get placed right behind the 100-members of the county stampede club.

It’s kind of like being drafted by the Detroit Lions. (Not that I would know anything about that.) Even though you’re excited, you will suddenly realize that, no matter what, you’ll have to work on Thanksgiving.

Since 1934, every Thanksgiving with a very few exceptions in the late-30’s, the Lions have played on Thanksgiving Day.

[image from rantsports.com used without permission]

[image from rantsports.com used without permission]

Let me say to all the Detroit Lions and you poor people in retail who have to go in and work on Thanksgiving, “Suck it up kid. It’s an occupational hazard.” JUST KIDDING!

I’m sorry you have to work, but we need an NFL game to play in the background while we sleep, and apparently, some just can’t wait until Friday to get their shopping on.

Don’t blame me though, Wal-Mart associates. I’m not the reason you’re working on Thanksgiving (or any other day for that matter). And for that I’m thankful.

I am also thankful for some others, those who serve, who don’t get to have Thanksgiving off—like my youngest son. Because of his work with the less law-abiding of our citizenry, he has to be on duty. Apparently, like football and shopping; crime doesn’t take a holiday.

So, if you’re working on Thanksgiving, thank you. If it helps remember this: while your occupational hazard is costing you a day off, it is far less tragic than the hazard of the poor old turkey. 

Gobble-Gobble.

What A Day!

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Mark it down. It's July 16th and the actual outside temperature is 72 degrees. If you're not from around these parts, that's about 30 degrees cooler than normal July temps.

Mark it down. It's July 16th and apparently Archie Andrews is dead. Well, not the real Archie, the perpetual teenager that loves both Betty and Veronica. The Archie that died is (or was) apparently a sort of What-If Archie, as in: what would have happened if Archie had grown up? What-If Archie had his own comic book series called "Life With Archie." Today issue #36 hit the marketplace. This issue tells how Archie died. I called every comic book store in town and they are all sold out.

Turns out that Archie as an adult was quite a character, but continued to have red-hair, freckles and a good heart. He was somehow married to both Betty and Veronica. He met his demise when he stepped between a gay senator and a gunman. The senator was making a speech about gun rights.

I didn't even know that Archie had grown up, or that comic books had grown up for that matter.

But don't be too sad, because, as I said, Archie was lucky enough to have two story lines. The "real" Archie is apparently still alive and still a teenager.

Maybe I have multiple story lines too. Except for me, in the real one I do become sort of adult-like, my joints hurt and I long for the good old days when there was peace in the middle east, when Democrats and Republicans got along -- you know fictional.

Well, RIP Archie, whoever you are. Maybe your teenage self could come for a visit. We have a "Pops" here just like you do in Riverdale. We could get a burger and Grapette and you could explain to me why you can't just admit that Betty is the better girl for you. Today would be a great day to visit because it's July 16 and only 72 degrees.