Yesterday, we were playing pick-up basketball in a public gym designed by Richard Neutra, here in Northeastern Los Angeles. We stretched very carefully before the game. We were straining to keep up with 19 and 20 year-olds. We were less explosive players than we used to be, but wilier and craftier. We grabbed rebounds and got hands in faces, rather than going for the big rejection. We were breathing hard after a couple points, feeling what we thought were heart palpitations and ominous tightenings in our hamstrings, and thinking "We are no longer young." It was a very Rabbit Angstrom moment. We came home and watered our lawns as the sun began to set.
There are fourteen days left on the TDBP. The Evacuee is currently in Mobile, Alabama, apparently en route to the lovely white sands of Pensacola. The Evacuee turns thirty in November.
3 comments:
Getting a hand in the shooter's face reduces shooting percentages by 8-12 percentage points.
Mission Control has nothing to be ashamed of.
Everyone turns thirty sometimes. What kind of thing is that to say? Like you don't sit at home and cry when REO Speedwagon comes on?
These days middle age isn't til like 50.
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