Yale has announced its new dates in October, and confirmed its status as an e-tournament. The date change is simply based on the calendar, as in, when the Elis finally took a look at it, they found Jewish holidays in September as far as the eye can see. Wondering why they couldn’t have looked at the calendar back in last September is a mug’s game; the Ivy mind doesn’t work that way. In any case, the e-dominoes will start tumbling for real now for next season. The lack of anybody knowing anything, be it about budgets or travel or classes, makes everything anyone says mere opinion. There are no facts, and there’s no point in pretending otherwise. Which isn’t stopping us from gnawing on those opinions. Thomas Gradgrind is turning in his imaginary grave.
I sallied forth this morning for my weekly grocery adventure. If you’re old as the hills, they let you in before the hoi and the polloi, so Tuesday mornings I simply roll out of bed, into the car and down the aisles. The thing is, when I used to live in Manhattan in the 1970s, we used to shop at the original Fairway, which was pretty much vegetables-only in its infancy. For some reason, 110% of the customers were, A) old people who B) had never been in a market before that day and therefore had no idea that C) there were other people in the building. Sadly, 110% of those exact same people go shopping with me on senior mornings. Now that I am one of those old people, I am happy to report that obliviousness is not necessarily a factor of age, and I will admit that I have seen goobers of all ages in my day. Still, there are some golden agers who give the rest of us a bad name, and they all shop when I do. The good news is that one doesn’t inevitably evolve into one of those bad eggs, any more than you inevitably wake up one day liking Lawrence Welk and Matlock. Doesn’t happen.
Whew.
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