Not an original thought to be had

Much has been rattling in my cage of late.  This post will not be one of them.

I did come across a couple of reads this week that provide a nice start to the weekend.

• The dim bulb of the north.  As the loathing of Sarah Palin continues on the east and left coasts, Larry Elder discusses the Alaskan politico with the family physician.  So what's really wrong with Sarah?  Find out here.
• Nordlinger.  No, it's not a drink.  I mention him at least once a month.  The man has a crysalline perspective of the world around us.  Some stuff to make you smile about America and cringe about the dark world in places beyond our borders.  Wade through page one and enjoy page two.  Okay, enjoy them both pages here.

A brief story to end the week.  Before my dad passed away, he initiated a football pool between him, me, and my four sons.  We created a trophy that would go to the annual victor of that football pool, and since dad's years were in short supply, we named it after him.  It's called "The Gibby" for Gilbert Otho Pond.  Dad won it that first year.  The next year, he died in November, in commanding position to win it a second straight year.

Over the years, none of the remaining five of us has retained sole possession of The Gibby.  Tyler kershwolloped us all last year, the year after I beat him by a single point on the final game of the season.  As this year got to ginning up and the boys and I began to get excited about starting another season of pigskin prognostication, my bride, Tracy expressed an interest.  She'd noted our near obsessive frenzy for 17-weeks of the last eight seasons.  She'd watch the Super Bowl with us out of courtesy or sit by my side just to be with her man when the Vikings played, but football?  Not her thing.  So there were some winks and elbows amongst the men as my bride pleaded, "You're not going to make fun of me if I do this are you?"

Then she clobbered us the first week.  And the second.  And the third.  In fact, she held first place through week eleven and in week twelve, only ceded the lead by a single point.  She let Drew think he was going to be somebody until week sixteen when she wrested the lead back and drove a stake into our collective hearts on week 17 by blowing us all away.

So now a rookie has her name on the most vaunted of heirlooms.  You never know what's going to happen unless you try.  Guess I'll go bake some cookies.

Way to go, honey!