Sorry for the avalanche of Me lately, but everyone else in the house is in their sick bed.
The Colonel has been sick for almost a month. It's funny, because he is normally the picture of health. He has remarkable power and stamina- he drove from Duxbury, MA to my brother's house in Ocala, FL once, non stop.
I sleep like a log myself, usually from the moment the last kid conks out until the moment the first kid wakes up.. and I recall leaving Duxbury, driving all damned day, planning to get a hotel, being like "Ooohhh.. we're almost in North Carolina".... then nodding off. I woke up, apologized for nodding off, then asked where we were. "Your brother's house," I was told.
The Colonel was too busy laughing about all three women in his life sleeping through three states (I was pretty into the painkillers then) to notice that he drove like 28 straight hours. He didn't sleep until we all had breakfast... and even then, he considered a quick shot to Disney for the girls' sake.
Therefore, it's troubling to see him all listless. He goes to work most days, although I hid his keys last week, once. I have no problem at all with calling in sick for him before he wakes up, as this is also the only period he'll allow me to take his temperature.
Throw in two kids and a Shea who also picked up the flu, and here we are. We'll see when Team Monponsett starts getting out of bed this morning, but it's just You and I for now.
As for me.. I never get sick. Ever. I break stuff and fall off mountains, but I never get the flu. I used to be a teacher, and I was exposed to every illness imaginable. I went through 10 sick days a year for the first two years, then never missed a day again for a half-decade unless I was really, really close to giving birth. My immune system had risen to super-powerful levels, sort of the anti-AIDS. I could bang a leper, with no ill effects whatsoever.
I'm healthy enough that yesterday, after chopping onions, I went to my husband with crying red eyes, telling him that I didn't feel well. He got all concerned... then I was like "April Fools! I feel fine." He went off to vomit, while I congratulated myself on being healthy enough generally that my having the flu could be viewed as some kind of (quite literal) Sick Joke.
I bet librarian (a teacher's spiritual cousin) Jack Sheedy never gets sick, either... just a guess, though. I've been out of the classroom for a few years, now.. should be interesting to see how I hold up against whatever viruses the Gabber starts bringing home from school next year. As for now, though... I'm in superb blogging shape, at least until someone wants ginger ale.
And, oh, do we have a lot of Sport to discuss today....
First... March Madness ends this evening... in April, just like Madness dictates. I never do get that worked up about college sports, but I'll be watching Ohio State/Florida quite carefully.
The Celtics will have a high selection in this year's draft, and at least 3 of the top 10 guys in the country will be warrin' tonight on the tropical hardwood. If the cookie crumbles properly, young Mr. Gregory Oden will be dropping into our laps next June. Oden is widely considered to be the next Olajuwon, and he's just the kind of kid I'd like to see wearing the Shamrock.
Mr. Oden will be opposed by the tag-team of Joakim Noah and Al Horoford, who beat the snot out of him earlier in the year. Florida also has Corey Brewer, who most likely won't be wanting for basketball-themed employment next season. Florida won it all last year, and already whooped up on OSU by 26 earlier this year.
Only a fool would bet OSU, but it would make a great story if Oden:
A) beat Horoford and Noah like they stole something
B) scored 38 points and grabbed 21 rebounds, while blocking 7 shots
C) led his team to a double-digit victory
D) entered the draft, and joined the Celtics
E) leads us to 13 titles in 16 years, before ascending into Heaven and being God's left-hand man.
What will most likely happen- given how I view my luck, which is intertwined with that of the Celtics- is:
A) Oden gets wiped out by the two more mature Florida big men, and Florida wins in a rollover.
I can actually live with that, because we're just watching Baby Oden right now... seeing him take a beating in 2007 is like watching a schoolyard bully push around a baby Mike Tyson back in 1979 or so...it'll help make him mean. It's simply the rearing back of the Karma Sledgehammer that so few of us get to wield at any point in our lives. When my day comes, I shall wield it with impunity
B) Either Oden or 1-A Kevin Durant doesn't enter the draft, and we get the #2 no-superstar pick...or worse, #5 or something.
C) Danny Ainge has fallen in love with some obscure tweener guard in this tournament, and will trade down to select him, garnering a useless second round pick in the process.
D) I go up to Boston and kill Danny Ainge and Doc Rivers (Rivers, a nice enough guy, dies because he failed to stop Ainge himself.... I'd have hung Rommel for the same reason if he were alive when/if I were running the Nuremberg Trials).
E) I rot in prison- still blogging occassionally- and think endlessly on what might have been.
However it all breaks down, the ball starts rolling tonight. Death or Glory!
Speaking of Death or Glory, the Red Sox kick it all off today at 4 PM. Noted blogger Curt Schilling takes the mound for the local 9, with Heart Attack Beckett and the Rising Son waiting in the wings.
I, for one, think that the Japanese kid is going to flop. I don't have a logical reason for this feeling, and I certainly don't want to be correct about it... but I smell a Jack Clark negative-impact signing. The Japanese guy I like is that backup outfielder with the cannon arm, who should be put in for Manny every time we get a big lead. I forget his name, but I saw him steady gun down two guys at the plate this spring, and I don't watch THAT much baseball... at least for a sports fiend.
Finally...fans of The Only True Sport can rejoice today, as Wrestlemania ended with:
A) Massachusetts home slice John Cena holding onto his WWE title
B) Veteran strangler The Undertaker beating a steroid-swollen Battista to win the World title
C) Melina- currently my favorite woman on televison- held onto her Women's title, slapping around that slut Ashley (April's Miss Playboy, or whatever Hugh calls the top Bunny). All is right with the world.
D) Vince McMahon losing the Battle of The Billionaires, and having to allow Donald Trump to shave his head.
We tried a hair-vs-hair match back when I wrote for W.O.W. The original girl slated to lose her hair quit, and the boss had to throw money at Ice Cold- who really wasn't losing anything particularly beautiful, in her case- to be tied to the chair for the Shaving that the crowd expected to see. The going rate for a head shave in 2001 pro wrestling was $1500, and I'm pretty sure that the check didn't clear.
Finally-finally.... big ups to the Barnstable girls, who took home the state hockey title. Coach Kim Sullivan put together a veritable Murderer's Row of ass-kicking Chick Hock talent, and it's nice to see that the Puck Stops Here on Cape Cod. The Barnstable Girls asked for no qurater, and showed none. Somewhere, Paul Stewart and Jay Miller are smiling.