It’s been a sports-eventful summer for this normally-sedentary TV addict. My nephew Trey’s early bachelor party last month entailed 18 holes of Cody golf followed by a “cornhole” tournament. (Google it; the sport is sweeping the nation.) I’ve also recently gotten back together with my teenage love, bowling. After my all-time high of 227 weeks ago, my love has increased 10-fold.
Well, for months I’d been itching for another Billings trip, and I got ‘er done the weekend before the Fourth of July. And again I feared my manhood might be in question over my excitement to “shop ‘til I drop.” But why should that be so shameful anyway? I mean, who doesn’t like to look good once in a while, decked out in some spanking new duds?
Once again I’ve had a few random epiphanies that I can’t let go to waste. That’s the thing about brilliant observances when you’re old, alone and eccentric — one finds few opportunities to share with neighbors when one lives in a dumpster.
I don’t normally devour the Trib sports section; it can be a bitter reminder to athletic has-beens on Social Security. Besides, one can’t read everything; there are only so many hours in the day and so many TV shows to watch.