O'C at leisure; Old soldiers; Undercover Walter

I can always tell when O’C has time on his hands. Yesterday he asked for the results of the Red Light District, which unfortunately are still in limbo because of our hopes to turn our lights yellow. Then again, according to Benny the P there is no limbo anymore, so maybe our prospects are good. Hard to say. I do note that the clock is ticking ever more loudly. I’ll be with in-laws this weekend (and not at States, which ought to work as the platform for at least a couple of obvious jokes) so I won’t know till Monday where we stand. Anyhow, Cruz also posted two comments yesterday. Was it some sort of Bronx holiday, where only they had the day off? I would indeed love to hear how he adjudicated WDW. And yes, it was the New Yorker article that got me started, but then I searched the concept of the internet and found that bracketology is, if nothing else, a time-honored tradition. We proudly break no new ground here at Coachean Life. We ask the VCA to do the same. Today’s entry is Superheroes, another toughie.

As with the end of every debate year, I feel as if I’ve done a MacArthur, and just sort of faded away. (Today’s did you know: Douglas MacArthur’s father’s name was Arthur MacArthur; obviously Dougie’s grandfather was appellationally challenged.) I keep thinking of all these things that I never got around to, or merely brushed against. Summer reading, although I think we did a drive-by at the last formal meeting. A simmering idea for some sort of team picnic, which I mentioned only in passing to some random Sailor (who no doubt feels like a real personage in his own estimation, which one could say is the basis for human worth, and not Jiminy Cricket, but to understand this, you had to be there). Some remarks about Pffft, which I’m hoping will be a real option to a handful of Plebes in their sophomorage. I guess I’ll just email them. Oh, yeah, and also the fact that the Sailors always take the higher seed in coach-overs (which could come up at States). The Crank is still complaining about the time I coached him over at Harvard. This was, I think, in 1924, but he has a long memory and a need to put some new stuff into it. I personally think he should start reading books. I do it all the time and it works wonders for me.

We’re now at the 15-day mark. Today’s trivia is the little known fact that Walt Disney worked for the Russian KGB. He had been captured right after World War II when he was on a fact-finding mission for Truman (how many Mickey Mouse nose cone planes had gone down in the ETO?) when he disappeared for almost two months, no doubt to some Potemkin Village where he was brainwashed out of his well-known anti-Communist stance (he blamed the strikes at his studio on the Reds) and indoctrinated as a courier. Henceforth, every useful piece of information that arose in Hollywood, from 1947 to his death in 1966, was sent by Walt Disney directly to his handlers in the Kremlin. Fortunately for history, there were no useful pieces of information that arose in Hollywood from 1947 to 1966, so Uncle Walt’s memory can survive unsullied.