Howling rain. A Summer Nor’Easter hitting NYC. Lashing the dormant air conditioner as cool fresh air wafts in through narrowly cracked windows. Only people to be seen outside along Central Park West tonight are hunched over with inside-out umbrellas.
Gusts may pick up at the British Open final on Scotland’s coast tomorrow. Looks to be survival of Carnoustie’s Caddy Shack. American millennial housemates. Little rat farts are dominating the links. Spieth. Kisner. Johnson. Fowler. Could a geezer ever break wind?
Gale Storm was a Fifties actress. No. Not Stormy Daniels. Gale played My Little Margie where she looked older than her father on an old timey tv show. She also later had her own eponymous sit-com. With Zazu Pitts. That’s correct.
Catapulting into summer from a cool wet spring. Ninety degrees today. It’s on. Curtis Strange gave great commentary of the U.S. Open at Shinnecock where the windy course vaulted many stars out of the weekend and made Phippy whippy. In the end, Koepka survived with a back-to-back trophy hoist. Strange enough. The last one to do that was Curtis.
The Affair is back. And. Another show features the Colletti Winery. If you find it, you’ll know. Jump to book-treks. Social Creature by Tara Isabella Burton. Ghosting. Literally. A psychopath with social media savvy can get away with murder. Fooling narcissistic Manhattan millennials with Facebook tagging, photoshopping. Yup. Hiding homicide never easier.
Make America laugh again. Journalists are such easy prey. They take themselves so seriously that any jab puts them into supercilious overdrive. Get a grip. Stop swinging at low hanging fruit and do some real reporting. Stormy. Really? And. Of course. Dennis Rodman would love to join the Rocket Man summit. Why not?
Speaking of light. Two out of three books so far fit the bill. The Wife Between Us, by Greer Hendricks, Sarah Pekkanen. Not sure why this took two women to conjure it. Disturbed families. Vulnerable adults. Worth a few hours on a wintry Saturday. Mrs., Caitlin Macy. Upper East Side moms. Nothing more than trite. However, The Woman In the Window, by A.J. Finn is not light at all. Dr.Husband reports depressing and tedious. So nope. Won’t read that one.
Apologies to Archie Bell & the Drells. Go Tiger!
Trump will tweet a lot
CableNews & NYT will freak out about it daily
So will certain friends & relatives
TTSD antidote will be mid-term elections
Societal polarization will vertically widen
Garbage trucks will wake us up
Streaming services will shutter most movie houses
Online shopping will render the end of malls
There will be a U.S. military action in North Korea
Luann will hook up with Harvey in rehab
Melania will be on Dancing With the Stars
Jon Stewart will replace Colbert
Tom Hanks & Meryl Streep will take a year off
Sam will reunite with real Jason
Tim Ryan (not Paul Ryan) will replace Pelosi
Tiger will win another major
Patriots will not win the Super Bowl
Tops will no longer have shoulder holes
Pets will develop allergies to humans
Alexa will do the dishes
The Gates. 2005.
Daily gaits. 2017.
No snow in sight. So far.
Tiger Woods is back on the links. Under par.
Dennis Rodman of Celebrity Apprentice fame. Mutual friend of our Portly President and North Korea’s Dumpy Despot. Could he broker a summit to thwart nuclear war? Just to be safe. Revert to 1950’s duck and cover under your desks. Or huddle in the nearest bomb shelter.
Golf Ball. President’s Cup. A yawn of vanilla look-alike Americans vs. unknown international team. Ex-Prez’s Billy, George, Barack together. Hey. It’s right across the river at Liberty National. NFL has taken a knee financially as controversy sorts itself while the real crime of physical injuries sidelined. These days it’d be good to be confined inside a nutshell.
As Hamlet lamented to Rosnecrantz and Gildenstern: “O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.”
Ian McEwan took this as his conceit for Nutshell, a novel. Our latest book group pick. Some of us liked it more than others. A fetus’ view from the womb. Premise a bit ludicrous. Some ludic moments. A long short story that seemed meant more to expound on the global issues of his time, McEwan’s pedantic take on Mother earth being poisoned, North Korea, Iran, race, religion. Unborn nugget sees what’s wrong in his own upcoming life and the world at large.
Not chainmaille. Chain mail. Raven post. Separate messages from Sam & Tyrion to Jon Snow that could change fortunes at Dragonstone. Is Bran the only one who knows Jon’s true relationship to Khaleesi? A confrontation to come with Cersei? We’ll see. Get rid of Littlefinger & Varys. They are whores who can never be trusted.
Email will be center stage this week. From Jared to Junior. Trump’s tweeter is off the rails. Memo to Sessions. Bye. Bye. Already. And. Prognostication about Speith’s British Open choke was premature. He was starting to prove me right on early holes Sunday, then had a miraculous rally. If he didn’t take so long to make a shot, he’d be worth watching.
Trump is off the rails. As usual. Petulant Adolescent President. Tweeting breathless threats. No change there. Comey’s firing has set the mainstream media’s hair up in smoke. Dems talking impeachment. Russia obsession cranked into hyperdrive. So. Let’s say Trump blows himself up. Resigns. Gets run out of D.C. What then? 3 + years of Pence. A saner yet far right-wing regime. Would that be an improvement? We may find out.
Kind of like the odds of hitting a hole-in-one on the island green. Sergio?!
Seems like everything is moving backwards in slow-motion.
Tiger decided not to make his latest comeback at the Safeway tournament this week. He hasn’t hit a golf ball in public for over a year. Will he ever again?
In Miami, it’s the Clinton-Gore retro show. Trying to appeal to millennials with a droning speech on climate change and revisiting hanging chads. Yawn. Meanwhile, Trump has declared war on the Republican party. Solidifying an eponymous third party for the future. Reminding us of his true end-game. This is TNN.
Flashback to M.A.S.H. Ran into Alan & Arlene Alda strolling through Central Park on our daily constitutional by the Lake. Looked like a happy couple of 58 years.
Maybe I’m just like my father too bold. “When Doves Cry” – Prince.
More sad than Prince’s untimely demise. The tragic death of an icon who is still alive. Tiger Woods. ESPN writer reveals a tale that didn’t hit the headlines. The self-sabotage of a champion who never got fulfillment from the sport of golf. So he sought solace in trying to fulfill his father’s dream. Ending up emulating his flaws as well.
Far from the fairways and greens Tiger’s world turned to a driven need to become a Navy SEAL. His fame gave him access to their grueling training camps which destroyed his body. The one he needed to continue to compete and win with in his other life. Wright Thompson does a masterful telling of the secret suffering that we as fans never could have guessed was going on in this complicated stunted man-boy. A must read.