Sunday In Cleveland Heights

Climate change may be a myth but I don't think whomever is in charge of Cleveland's climate got that memo. Its well into January and we've had only two real snowfalls and just a few really cold days (below twenty degrees.) I hope this doesn't mean we'll have snow in mid-May. My Southern brain will be thinking it's time to plant tomatoes but my Northern body will instead be shoveling the walk.

Deidre fixed French-toast this morning. It was very good and I made a pig of myself; now I'm sitting in something near a coma, wishing I'd eaten only about half of what I did. I wonder: how would the docs bring you out of a French-toast coma? Play old Peter Sellers movies? The hilarious French accent and dialogue of Sellers' Clouseau would surely penetrate the thickest fog. I'm pretty sure I'd wake up laughing when Clouseau tries to capture the transvestite bandit but is overcome by his adversary. The first time I saw the inspector, dressed in women's clothes, yell with the Clouseau accent, "Hello Boys," to the French cops who were coming to his rescue, I about popped a stitch from laughing so hard. Or maybe use the blow-up parrot which was part of a seaman's disguise but kept deflating and any number of surprise attacks by Cato. "Not now, Cato! Not now!" I'm pretty sure that could bring me out of the worst French-toast induced comas.

I'm going to suggest to my oncologists that they try the Clouseau therapy. Right now I'm laughing just thinking about the sour look of non-comprehension on the face of my humorless and pompous radiation doc.

Now for something completely different: L.S.U./Alabama tomorrow night. Beating a team like Alabama twice in a season will be very tough. If L.S.U does it, they must be recognized as one of the greatest college teams ever. And an awful lot of players, first and second on the depth chart, are freshmen and sophomores. The team might well be better next year.

Deidre just called me with a license plate report. She saw 42ituss. I think that's a good one.

Deidre, my uber-wife, and I saw True Grit yesterday afternoon. Jeff Bridges played a convincing Reuben "Rooster" Cogburn, the drunken ne'er-do-well marshal that a stubborn14 year old character named Mattie hires to help her bring her father's murderer to justice. I liked the movie of the same name that starred John Wayne but I thought this version was the better of the two. I've never read the novel, and unless my brain starts working better, I probably never will.

Everybody in my sphere are doing well. I hope you and yours are doing the same. Thanks for visiting my blog.