Thursday Morning

I'm not paying much attention to the election. You can easily find articles online where learned men and women will predict every possible scenario next Tuesday so there's not much point in reading any of them. I've decided to save up my outrage for then because you know that no matter how the ballots are counted or what the count will be, Donald Trump will do something to piss off half the country.

I watched a smidgen and a half of the World Series…which is more than I usually watch by about half a smidgen. I, of course, missed Vin Scully and I, of course, didn't think the Dodgers won that last game so much as that the Yankees lost it. That fifth inning was included in the smidgen I did watch and I'll bet it was pretty exciting for folks who care about these competitions more than I do. I seem to be incapable of rooting for a team — or deriving joy from their victories — just because they have the same home base city as I do. I did not inherit that trait from my father who would have loved every second of a Dodgers victory.

I may be more interested in how television covers this kind of event than I am in the event. They seemed to have eighty million cameras out there to show us every move from every possible angle…to the point when I was sometimes momentarily confused as to whether what I was watching was a new bit of action or the ninth replay of the previous bit of action. And when some cameraguy with (I guess) a steadicam was running along with a player, the player looked to me like a videogame animation. I'll think about this more in a few years when I watch another smidgen or two of some future Fall Classic.

Congrats to the Dodgers but I really can't muster any feeling like I won anything. I keep hearing the Yankees referred to as the losers…and I keep thinking that the real losers are all those folks who would have profited mightily if the series had gone to Game Seven.