Stories From Above–empty the notebook edition

Hardest working guy in show business:


 Again, a rainout.  Nats and Yankees won’t be made up. 

I just finished lunch at a nice little Italian place here in Viera as a prelude to whatever adventure this afternoon had in store.  I asked the waitress, “If you had a day off in Viera, what would you do?”  She replied, “Go shopping.”  I then asked if there was anything historic to be seen.  She said “Downtown Melbourne.  It’s not really historic, but it’s better than Viera.” 

So, this post has no charm.  No pre-Modern American flair.  It does, however, give me the opportunity to discuss a number of things that have been stewing within me for days (if not hours).  Off we go:

*Ran into Mike Daniel, one of the late, late callups to Syracuse last season, this morning.  He’s still excited about the Saints Super Bowl win.  He also finished his degree at UNC this offseason.  Really good kid….and someone to keep your eye on to be outfitted for a Chiefs jersey soon.

*Driving to Orlando Wednesday was treacherous.  I was moving along at 75-77 in a 70 zone (please don’t call the fuzz on me) and people were zooming by me like they were jet-propelled.  I have seen 0 state troopers on the highways. 

*Total Eclipse of the Heart came on the radio Wednesday night, reminding me of this Big 12 YouTube debacle.

*Restaurants should be required to play music that goes along with their menus.  I ate chicken parm this afternoon while Kelly Clarkson made sure I knew she was already gone.  You serve Italian, you play Italian.  This rule will ensure that nobody will ever open an Owl City Cafe.

*I met a criminal Monday morning.  I was in line for security at the Charlotte airport.  The man in front of me was yapping loudly on his little Bluetooth headset.  Then, his conversation ended and the guy behind me picks up.  Here’s the one-sided conversation:

“Yeah, I’m in line at airport security.”
“I was in bed, already three hours asleep.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I’m happy with the way things have turned out.”
“I was already asleep, that’s ridiculous.”
“Well, I bet the office isn’t in a good mood this morning.”
“What?  If I wanted to get into Betsy’s house, I would have knocked on the door.”
“That’s crazy.  Why would I want to do that?”
“This is one of the strangest phone calls I’ve ever gotten.”
“Yeah, I’ll talk to you later.”

Far as I can tell, this guy was being accused of breaking into Betsy’s house. 

Here’s my problem with his alibi.  When the phone call ended, he did nothing except complain to me about how long security was taking.  If I were erroneously accused of unlawfully entry at my ex’s house, I’d have called a friend immediately to talk about how ridiculous the accusation actually was.  Nope.  This guy just stood there…..and got agitated with the security line.   Sadly, only I–and you, dear reader–know that this guy’s airtight alibi might have some gaps.  Tough day for Betsy.

Off to Kissimmee tomorrow to see the ‘stros and Nats.  If we don’t get another few feet of rain, that is.


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