I got home on Wednesday night from a particularly weird day. It’s not quite spring time in New York yet but people seem to be on edge with anticipation.
I’ve lived in New York my entire life and am still consistently flabbergasted by some of the things that I see on the subway.
I was reading the most recent edition of The Economist when a lady, holding some sort of raccoon type animal sat down next time me. She tried to make conversation, talking about saving the “endangered opossum”, which terrified me due to the fact that she may have been holding an opossum at that very moment. Weird, weird stuff.
Anyway, I get home and flip on the Lakers/Nuggets game. I won’t lie: I haven’t been able to stop watching the Lakers dysfunction and lack of give a shit. It is positively addicting.
I was bumming along, watching a boring game when all of a sudden, this happened:
I mean, come on. He did the same the thing other night, picked it up and nailed a 3. But this is just embarrassing. Obviously he didn’t touch the ball to keep the clock from starting. But there were over 2 minutes left and the Lakers were getting smacked by 13 points.
Its sort of like a sheep farmer setting up land mines to keep wolves out of the pen. Sure, it’s a great idea, and you’re definitely going to blow some wolves to smithereens. But is it necessary? No, probably not. Are you probably going to lose a sheep or two as collateral damage? Almost certainly.
The good news, here, though, is that Lebron lost all of the sheep a month ago when he tried to ship everyone out of town.
It did prove to be humorous that Alex Caruso was the only teammate to celebrate with Lebron when he passed MJ the other night. Wouldn’t it have been sweeter if it would have happened in Cleveland, where he actually has fans? If he didn’t piss off half of L.A. immediately by coming to town, he certainly hasn’t done anything to win them over recently.
I was talking with some friends the other day and they were trying to sell me on listening to the Grateful Dead. Truthfully, I don’t think that this is something that I’m going to do. It sounds like a lot of work to consume music that I have done without up to this point in my life, and have been just fine.
In high school I worked with a guy at Duane Reade who was all about the Grateful Dead. This guy consumed more acid, bong resin and Doritos than anyone I’ve ever seen. He was a lunatic. Which does not bode well for me wanting to listen to the Dead. I may consider it, though. We’ll see.