Oh readers of a gentle nature, I'm extremely pleased to announce that it's Friday. I don't have a topic today per se, so I'm going to address a couple of things from previous posts and draw inspiration from emails I've received. This will be disjointed and possibly fairly short (which should be ok after yesterday's opus), so consider yourselves warned.
In my "Red-Faced Moments Part 1" post, I wrote about an unfortunate bowling experience. Longtime Friend of the Family Klein and UOPTA reader Sue asked if this was the same bowling ball that was lost on Nordhoff. That prompted me to tell that story to the rest of you: One bowling afternoon, everything was going along according to plan (that is, no mystery powder mishaps to possibly destroy my reputation). When it was my turn, I grabbed my ball, went through my beautiful lefty approach, shook hands with the head pin, etc. I got 8 or 9 down and walked back to the ball return. After the normal amount of time, my ball wasn't back yet. I waited for the neighboring lane to bowl to see if that would spit mine back out with it, but to no avail. As is customary when this happens, I pushed the intercom and told them my ball didn't return. They did their thing, but it still didn't come back. Time passed, and someone from the alley went to the back to see where it was. More time passed, and I kept thinking, "Come on, how hard can it be to find the ball back there?"
Pretty hard, it turns out. After a long wait, a bowling alley employee came toward me with a weird look on her face. She handed me my ball, which was all scuffed up and scratched. "I don't know exactly how it happened," she said, "but the ball was in the parking lot." "Excuse me?" I asked, rightfully confused. She explained that it must have somehow gotten thrown off the track, bounced around back there, and slipped through some small hole that led to the parking lot behind the alley. No one had ever seen anything like that happen before, and they offered to buy me a new ball. And it was that new ball, Sue, that flew through the air and dented the center divider. Needless to say, that was an excellent question.
Next, I wrote in my "Days and Daze" post on 12/22/06 about Cherry from the place I worked in Sacramento. She's the one who welcomed everyone with a day-of-the-week-specific greeting each morning. "How are you doing on this Tuesday now that we survived Monday," etc. Well, my friend Kevin who was my boss up there IMd me yesterday. He said, "Cherry just came in my room and said, 'Happy day after Hump Day and day before Payday Friday.' I had to share this." I said, "Oh come on, where's the TGIT day? That's bullshit." He said that maybe she's branching out, and I disagreed, saying that borrowing twice from yourself doesn't constitute branching out. She was a model of consistency, and now she has this glaring infraction on her record. Shame on you, Cherry, and thanks for letting me know, Kevin.
Thirdly, I unfortunately had "What if God was One of Us" in my head. Longtime readers will recall that I hate that song, especially the extremely forced "'Cept for the Pope maybe in Rome" line at the end. Then I realized something: The Pope doesn't even live in frickin' Rome! He's in Vatican City, so the line is even more ridiculous than I initially realized. Joan Osborne, when you sit at home and wonder why you never had another hit, look to that line and nod knowingly.
Reader Stacy, who for years I've called BKS for Bratty Kid Sister, sent me an email with a whole list of thoughts and questions. The one I'll address right now is this: "Should we be saying 'Sudan' or 'the Sudan' because I've heard both?" Excellent question, and I'll give you a researchless answer. I'm going with 'the Sudan,' because I like using "the" whenever possible. I've jokingly said that my middle initial of T stands for "the" because I like the way "Peter The Klein" sounds. Dusty's girlfriend's last name is Mills, so we call her "the Mills." If we're discussing something like a movie, one of us might easily say, "Oh I'm a big fan of the Swingers," even though that word isn't in the title. So stick with "the Sudan," BKS, whether it's right or not. It's right by me.
Thanks for your contributions everyone, and keep emailing ptklein@gmail.com with thoughts and questions for future follow-up Fridays (and other alliterations). Have a great weekend.
In my "Red-Faced Moments Part 1" post, I wrote about an unfortunate bowling experience. Longtime Friend of the Family Klein and UOPTA reader Sue asked if this was the same bowling ball that was lost on Nordhoff. That prompted me to tell that story to the rest of you: One bowling afternoon, everything was going along according to plan (that is, no mystery powder mishaps to possibly destroy my reputation). When it was my turn, I grabbed my ball, went through my beautiful lefty approach, shook hands with the head pin, etc. I got 8 or 9 down and walked back to the ball return. After the normal amount of time, my ball wasn't back yet. I waited for the neighboring lane to bowl to see if that would spit mine back out with it, but to no avail. As is customary when this happens, I pushed the intercom and told them my ball didn't return. They did their thing, but it still didn't come back. Time passed, and someone from the alley went to the back to see where it was. More time passed, and I kept thinking, "Come on, how hard can it be to find the ball back there?"
Pretty hard, it turns out. After a long wait, a bowling alley employee came toward me with a weird look on her face. She handed me my ball, which was all scuffed up and scratched. "I don't know exactly how it happened," she said, "but the ball was in the parking lot." "Excuse me?" I asked, rightfully confused. She explained that it must have somehow gotten thrown off the track, bounced around back there, and slipped through some small hole that led to the parking lot behind the alley. No one had ever seen anything like that happen before, and they offered to buy me a new ball. And it was that new ball, Sue, that flew through the air and dented the center divider. Needless to say, that was an excellent question.
Next, I wrote in my "Days and Daze" post on 12/22/06 about Cherry from the place I worked in Sacramento. She's the one who welcomed everyone with a day-of-the-week-specific greeting each morning. "How are you doing on this Tuesday now that we survived Monday," etc. Well, my friend Kevin who was my boss up there IMd me yesterday. He said, "Cherry just came in my room and said, 'Happy day after Hump Day and day before Payday Friday.' I had to share this." I said, "Oh come on, where's the TGIT day? That's bullshit." He said that maybe she's branching out, and I disagreed, saying that borrowing twice from yourself doesn't constitute branching out. She was a model of consistency, and now she has this glaring infraction on her record. Shame on you, Cherry, and thanks for letting me know, Kevin.
Thirdly, I unfortunately had "What if God was One of Us" in my head. Longtime readers will recall that I hate that song, especially the extremely forced "'Cept for the Pope maybe in Rome" line at the end. Then I realized something: The Pope doesn't even live in frickin' Rome! He's in Vatican City, so the line is even more ridiculous than I initially realized. Joan Osborne, when you sit at home and wonder why you never had another hit, look to that line and nod knowingly.
Reader Stacy, who for years I've called BKS for Bratty Kid Sister, sent me an email with a whole list of thoughts and questions. The one I'll address right now is this: "Should we be saying 'Sudan' or 'the Sudan' because I've heard both?" Excellent question, and I'll give you a researchless answer. I'm going with 'the Sudan,' because I like using "the" whenever possible. I've jokingly said that my middle initial of T stands for "the" because I like the way "Peter The Klein" sounds. Dusty's girlfriend's last name is Mills, so we call her "the Mills." If we're discussing something like a movie, one of us might easily say, "Oh I'm a big fan of the Swingers," even though that word isn't in the title. So stick with "the Sudan," BKS, whether it's right or not. It's right by me.
Thanks for your contributions everyone, and keep emailing ptklein@gmail.com with thoughts and questions for future follow-up Fridays (and other alliterations). Have a great weekend.
2 comments:
Joan - who, by the way, is an awesome singer and has a very respected and highly regarded career - changes the lyric, which you detest so much (and was written by Eriz Bazilian of The Hooters), in her live performances.
Sometimes, she just eliminates it and sometimes she sings "'cept for the Pope when SHE'S in Rome" - bet you like that even more, right? :)
Actually, I truly do like that line better, Anonymous. It was the "maybe" that so badly messed the grammar up. It still doesn't make sense that the Pope (male or female) sometimes calls God on the phone, but only when s/he is physically in the city of Rome.
Does she by any chance change the "Just a slob like one of us" line when singing live? That might help the song cross over to the realm of bearable.
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