Sometimes, newspaper headlines are clever to the max, like the one in the Dallas Morning News when the Texas Rangers mauled the Tampa Bay Rays in the first two games of the American League wild card playoff.
There was but a sprinkling of Texas fans in the half-filled stadium, none of whom carried brooms. This shouldn’t be surprising, since getting brooms through airport security might be problematic.
The two words emphasized the Rangers’ dominance. They also were timely, causing Halloween witches to take notice, not to mention eliciting smiles from Cinderella lovers. I wish I could gift-wrap this observation with a drumroll. Alas, I can’t, so without further delay, I extend kudos to the person employing the two bold-faced words splashed across the top of the sports page. They were big enough to signal the Second Coming: “SWEEPING BEAUTY.” The writer coining this gem deserves a day off. …
While on media topics, is anyone else tired of TV ads that were initially considered pleasant and clever for the first few dozen viewings, but, with multiple runs daily for several months, now seem annoying?
There are several such ads coming to mind, but I cast my vote for AT&T’s well-worn ad about adult children chastising their mother for snuggling up to a much younger shirtless guy they believe to be taking advantage of her faster Internet delivery.
He says, “I am Yorgo.” Seems to me it’s time for Yorgo to find his shirt, button it up, take his leave and head on down the road. …
Switching gears….The assignment may be as difficult as convincing raging lions to use mouthwash, but if someone isn’t successful in helping Dallas Mavericks’ basketball star Luka Doncic to minimize protests of officials’ calls, his best years may already be in the books.
Some sportswriters and authorities may have attempted to charge his frequent outrage. They probably finally give in, charging his youth to be at the root of his outbursts.
He seems to be getting older without getting wiser. By now, he should realize that his childish conduct not only hurts himself and his team. Officials tire of his antics, and so do fans. …
Years ago, a church bulletin with asterisks indicated points in the service when “ushers may seat persons arriving late.”
This “welcome” seemed a bit frigid to worshipers who may be running a few minutes late, even if with good reason. I’m sure such attention to the tardy arrivals didn’t sit well.
Sure enough, at the same church a few weeks later, the same message was conveyed in a subtle manner. “Ushers may seat those who are waiting.” …
Concerning arrivals, it was amusing recently to read of a guy pleading for admission to a Philadelphia Phillies’ baseball game with his “emotional support” creature in tow.
It was harnessed, and the owner seemed flummoxed that he’d have to leave his emotional support at the gate.
Definition of what constitutes an acceptable “emotional support animal”—okay, in this case, reptile—taxes credulity to the limit. How’d you like to be seated next to an alligator, not even knowing which team he (or she) is rooting for? …
Finally, here’s a vivid memory of the fast-talking I once employed to get on a puddle-jumping airplane. I was jangled by fellow passengers who no doubt made the flight often, joking about betting on the plane’s arrival. “Time or odds?” one asked.
I was surprised that all passengers had to step on scales for “weigh-in.” No problem, I figured, since I was carrying only a suit bag containing a tuxedo needed for the out-of-state speaking engagement.
“You can board, but your carry-on will need to be on a later flight,” the guy said. I explained that the tux was needed for a speaking engagement a few hours later. A kind fellow passenger agreed to leave his carry-on, so the day was saved. I invited him to dinner, but he declined. Alas, my speaking reputation must have preceded me.
