In France, It's the First Day of the Week

"Monday, Monday
Can't trust that day."
--The Mamas and The Papas

It is full-on Fall here in Central Standard Land. Brisk walkings of the dog have occurred at Stephens Lake the past two days. The sky is that cloudy gray that true Fall always is. The air is brisk, and the oak leaves skitter across the paths on the eddying breeze. Great walking weather.

Saturday morning, as I was heading out to meet the Auduboners, I looked to the east as I travelled down Old Highway 63 and saw the sun rising over the misty Stephens Lake. It was a beautiful phot op, but I didn't have my camera. I made a mental note to come back on Sunday to snap a shot for the blog, but, as most of you may know, my mental notepad is like an Etch-a-sketch--if I shake enough, it erases itself. I must have shaken a great deal on Saturday, because I forgot to go up there yesterday. I will try to remember in the future. It really was a scene worth sharing.

After school today, we had a monthly faculty meeting. It was long, pointless and dreadful. Grades were due today, remember? Well, Fearless Leader didn't think it was too much to have a meeting immediately after we spent the day wrestling with our "new" (read "broken") grading program. How hard would it have been to have the meeting on Tuesday? But, no. We were all pretty brain dead. So brain dead, in fact, that we couldn't even muster the juice to rip on the meeting to each other. How terribly awful. To top it off, Fearless Leader wasn't even at the meeting. Boo! At 4:30, they mercifully let us go. I was supposed to play b-ball tonight, but I was pretty downtrodden. I stayed home.

After an hour, I was feeling a bit better, so I took the dog for a walk. Did I mention how nice that was?

I must say, one bright spot among many about being here in the Central Zone is that I don't often get the opportunity to watch my old home teams play ball. After suffering through the daily newspaper stories on the O's, I was glad not to have to be tempted with watching them implode this season. I am positively intrigued by the hiring of Leo Mazzone as the new pitching coach, but coaches don't play, and Angelos is STILL the owner. Most distressful (or pleasant, in that I don't have to watch it) is the miserable performance of the Ravens. God, remember the good old days of Vinny Testeverde?

It dawned on me yesterday, as I saw the score flash on the screen: Chi 10, Bal 6, that Baltimore's two Super Bowl wins came with scrub QBs: Earl Morrall and Trent Dilfer. Odd, isn't it? Johnny U never won one. He won NFL Championships, so he gets a special award for that, but no Super Bowls. Bert Jones? None. Art Schleister? Mike Pagels? Stoney Case? Chris Redmond? Well, never mind.

It's hard to be living in The Land of Pleasant Living this Monday, I'm sure.