What your view of sports and life would be if you had too many concussions
If you are of sufficient age, you remember when television actually went off at night. For most of us who can recall those days, those multi-colored bars take you back to a time when you fell asleep watching the late movie, and the ear-splitting electronic tone which accompanied those colors jolted you out of your slumber.
Perhaps if you were a lighter sleeper, you awoke to the strains of the National Anthem which preceded the color and noise show. If you’re my age or…God forbid..even older…you remember the old black-and-white “Indian Head” test pattern. In either event, it was not like today when streaming makes television an exercise in 24/7 on-demand availability, there was a time when television went to bed just like you should have.
I’m sure this is a foreign concept for those not of adequate vintage; they can’t envision a world where television went blank for five or six hours a day between the late show and the morning news. As archaic as that may seem, that’s really what’s happening here.
So, to get past the “foreshadowing,” the age references matter here. Yes, my recollection of television test patterns wanders the reliquary that is the memory of an old man; that place where you can find floppy disks, rotary-dial telephones, and the Yugo. But there’s another thing we old men do besides sift through the dust-bin of history.
We get sick.
That’s really what is driving this hiatus. Thanks to a newly-emergent health issue, I need to take time for some life re-engineering.
Fret not; the new health concerns do not have me yet on a trajectory toward a reunion with Caftan Woman in the hereafter. It’s simply a matter of giving the re-engineering process it’s needed priority…which means the perfectly enjoyable, yet non-essential past-time of penning my odd rants has to take a temporary back seat.
Frankly, if I turn up dead between now and college football season, it likely will be because Mrs. J-Dub found out I’m draining funds from my Health Savings Account in favor of my gambling bankroll. Be especially suspicious if my demise looks like an accident.
Very few sick old men die in para-gliding mishaps on a volcano, but she can’t get the insurance money if she’s convicted of braining me with a skillet.
But the gambling thing is were you can rest assured this hiatus will not last past when the summer’s gone. I’ve been dropping bets on college football since I had to call in bets on those rotary-dial phones, and that’s not stopping unless I run out of breath and cash at precisely the same moment.
To be honest, that sounds like perfect planning.
In the meantime, you may very well see posts from some of our contributors such as Boyd Bergquist, The Unknown Blogger, and the aforementioned Jim Rockford. As for me, even while I’m on hiatus, I still intend to remain as a reader and commenter on the scores of blogs I follow.
Until then, as the old song goes…I’ll see you in September (or sooner). You aren’t getting rid of me that easy…
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