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For those somewhat new to TDE, you should be aware that I don’t “officially” blog on Saturday. I don’t know what I mean by “officially” (it’s not as if I produce high literature Monday through Friday). I guess it basically means I’ll toss up an item or two on Saturday morning, and I don’t much care about the quality.

The Saturday acedia started last Fall, when I was facing two months of junior football and soccer Saturdays. I knew I simply wouldn’t be able to produce good Saturday posts and attend to my children. After the Fall season ended, the Saturday posts picked up a bit, but now I’m back into the sports season. TDE readers can expect a slight fall-off on Saturday mornings.

I drank beer on the front porch yesterday and gambled (all funzies, of course) with my nephews (aged 15 and 22) next door. I gave them high odds for outlandish basketball shots. My three oldest boys (14, 11, 9) soon joined in. It turned into a loud and fun evening, went on for nearly two hours, with music blaring from my living room through the front windows, and as much as $30 in the pool riding on one shot. I wasn’t keeping track, but I think I’m the only one who lost money. My boys later told me they all broke even or won a dollar or two. I looked at my wallet, and it was a bit thinner. Probably the result of my greater beer absorption (six Leinenkugel’s). Oh well, all the money stayed in the family, and my younger boys are closer to understanding the concept of odds (Me: “Michael, 6 to 1 means you have to give him $1.50 if he makes it, and he only gives you a quarter if he misses it.” Michael: “Oh, I don’t want to do that. I’ll just give him a quarter and he can give me a quarter.” Me: “That’s 1-to-1 odds. He’s shooting from half court. He’s not going to take it.” Michael: “Alright, I’ll just do that $1.50 thing.”). I don’t think the lesson fully sunk in, but he’s clearly grinding the concept through his mental gears. I’ll have him primed for Vegas by the time he’s 18.

Again, all funzies. Yup, all funzies and me reimbursing their allowances. No need to call social services as if I’m teaching my boys how to smoke crack.

After the shooting and drinking, I cleaned the house while Marie carted daughters around for their social functions, then we watched There Will Be Blood. I somewhat enjoyed it, Marie hated it. I think it was terribly overrated (“an American epic like Gone with the Wind”–no), Marie hated it. I thought it was a bit too long, Marie hated it.

Ponderism: What hair color do they put on the driver’s licenses of bald men?

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