I'm bummed that the Reds were swept by the Phillies (and have not yet found within me more than vague hints of happiness for anyone who cares for the Phillies), the NFL Packers lost in overtime (and their quarterback, also the DFL Packers quarterback, now has a goddam brain concussion), and that Na Yeon Choi once again buckled like a buckle under Sunday pressure. The DFL Packers won something like 90-65 to go to 3-2, and I walked and jogged the Levy Loop this morning in 26:51.
At 5:46 p.m. Central, it's 77, breezy, and dry as (I'm running out of these) Melba toast. I walked the Chandler Street Loop slowly enough to keep from sweating through blue jeans and a pink Polo shirt, in 48:02. It was a relaxing walk, perfectly pleasant. There were lots of people out, grills burning, dogs being walked, a good beer-on-the-front-porch day.
SENTENCE OF THE DAY from A Different Closet
Throughout his writing career, Ingram had disliked the tedium of advance work—the repetitive interviews, the assembly-line reworking of angles offered by coaches and players and the heaped piles of statistical minutia, and was consequently pleased by its current absence; Karen Shoemaker would handle some of his workload, and others from the Morning Report sports staff the rest, as Ingram, with Bill Seale’s encouragement, proceeded on his course of renown.
OVERHEARD
"Merry Christmas, sir."
—a 10-year-old Latino boy on Emerson Drive. Don't fucking ask me, because I don't know
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