For missing my regularly scheduled Sunday posting, I have an excellent excuse: I was traumatized by the news that Will Smith had assaulted someone at a large public event. Just what Major League Baseball needs at a time like this, I thought glumly. How badly will Rob Manfred mishandle this embarrassment? Moreover, my wife is a Dodgers fan and will be upset if the team loses its starting catcher for some large part of the season.
I could easily imagine how it happened. Sunday was the day before Will’s 27th birthday. Probably a big birthday bash, too many drinks, the inevitable sequel.
The trauma dissipated when I learned that the assailant wasn’t the Dodgers’ Will Smith or even Atlanta’s, but just some actor. By then, though, I couldn’t face a keyboard, so I went to bed and awoke to a new trauma in the morning when one of our dogs suffered a spell of diarrhea and vomiting. Perhaps he watched the Academy Awards. (The vet gave him medication and expensive dog food but says that there’s nothing seriously amiss.)
So that is why this blog fell silent. At least, it’s my story, and it’s as good as any that Joe Biden tells.
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