A Good Day

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It’s Tuesday, and I spent all of last week at work in the pacing-tiger mood. I knew I was going to be off next week, so getting to the last weekend between me and the vacation time felt like I was in a cage.

This week started off a little different; I know it’s coming, and the weather is cool here, and I just can’t wait. A sort of giddy excitement like a child waiting on Christmas morning. I have no plans; I intend to write and smoke cigars and not wear pants.

This morning I woke up in an exceptionally good mood. Probably the weather. Cold enough for me to wear long sleeves. I should start tracking the number of days I need long sleeves; it’s not many. That’s why I want to move to the Alps or something.

Anyway, so I get up feeling good. Work goes well enough. Toward the end of the day at work I check the news on my phone to see that Jeff Flake flaked out — he’s done, he’s a goner. He’s not doing it in an especially behaved way, but he’s not going to damage anyone except himself.

Damn, that put a hop into my step. Flake is one of the Gang of Eight. He’s become an establishment guy — not a guy representing the people. He wouldn’t have won the primary anyway, so he chose to quit rather than be embarrassed for sure.

Cool, whatever. The scalp count is up to at least two now — Flake and Corker — and any other establishment (right, left, or middle) lackey we can send packing is a win for the American people.

The World Series starts tonight. As a Red Sox fan, I’m just glad there’s a zero percent chance of seeing the Yankees win. But I’ll be pulling for the Astros — Houston deserves a win, as a city, and damn it, Los Angeles has too many teams. We’ll see how it plays out; I paid little attention to baseball this season, the first game I watched was Game Six between Houston and New York, and I didn’t watch the deciding game. Which is still more than I’ve watched of NFL football.

That’s another reason I feel like skipping around in a child-like fashion. It seems more every week that this scandal might be the straw that breaks Goodell’s back. I hope so — he’s an affront to sports. He’s the Jeff Flake of sports — he doesn’t care about the fans/constituents.

I should orange up the blog for Halloween… maybe I can borrow some of Flake’s tan in a can.