Time, Is Never Time At All. You Can Never Ever Leave, Without Leaving A Piece Of You

When I'm old, I will brag to my children about several things. There will be stories of life before the internet. Tales of purchasing tapes, audio and video. Demonstrations of the ability to write in cursive (Really, when was the last time you used cursive for anything other than your signature? Fifth, sixth grade? You learned it in fourth as though that was how all written communication was, but by seventh grade, everything was either typed or required to be printed. At this point, it only serves two purposes, to sign credit cards, and to give teenage girls an activity when they become infatuated with a boy [Like you didn't write out your last name with his last name. Go ahead, lie to me and say you've never done it.]. I honestly don't think my children will learn cursive. Really, I want to know how early in school teachers start requiring typed assignments. Jake, Jared, you've got to keep me up to date on this.).
In the sports realm, I will bore them of tales of the 2005 White Sox. I will dazzle them by telling them I saw Santana pitch in his prime. They will marvel that I was at Wimbledon while Federer dominated the world of tennis.
I hope they'll ask me of the utter beauty of Ken Griffey Jr's swing. (Arguably, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. No really, if it were a girl, it would probably be among the top ten ever. And to see it live, it makes you want to pick up a bat and hit until the blisters pop, and then keep hitting until the those areas become calluses. It made me believe in the goodness in humanity. I miss it a lot.) I wonder if I'll have to tell them about why Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens aren't in the hall of fame.
One thing is for sure though. They will ask, "Dad, do you remember watching Tiger Woods?"
Yes, yes I do actually. I will have to ask them what they want to know about. How he is among the elite few who not only lived up, but far exceeded the hype? More than likely, they'll want tales of just how great he was. How he was the most intimidating guy to put on spikes. Or how about how just about everyone he played with would fold in the final rounds. How he would make difficult shots seem easy, and easy shots seem pedestrian. How records were re-written from the moment he first teed off.
I'll pull up clips of him sticking that 4-iron stiff on the green from some 230 out. He'll see the best nike golf commercial ever made. (How amazing was that chip? Don't answer. Just savor the memory? It always goes down smooth.)
The boys will give the upper-cut fist pump after their first home run. My girls will give the less ostentatious form after they score their first goal. Truthfully, they might know Tiger the player before they know of Tiger the jungle cat. He's just that good. It's simply amazing. And watching him for the first time ever, come from behind in the final round of a major (Yes I know he started with the lead, but he was trailing while being the last guy on the course), to force an 18-hole playoff, there is no doubt that my children will ask me about him, just like I asked my dad about Joe Montana. He's just that good.
So, what will you tell your kids when they ask about Tiger? Word.

I'll Be Like Your Medicine, You'll Take Every Dose Of Me

Ok, so this might get a little graphic, but I had to wonder it. I'm down in Arizona and today, I kid you not, my car told me that it was 108 degrees outside. Of course, it was 71 inside so no big deal, but I had to wonder, people lived here before the fantastic invention of air conditioning. This would be the time to skip ahead to the next paragraph as this may get a little visual. If during development, the testicles descend from the abdomen because the body is too hot to sustain proper production. Now, the body is typically 98.6 degrees, give or take a couple. If the outside is higher than this, two things make me curious. 1) Wouldn't they migrate back into the abdomen where it is relatively colder? 2) In either location, wouldn't the temperature be too high for proper output and therefore make the local populations sterile for a couple months out of the year? Yep, I did wonder that.

Beyond the oppressive heat, Arizona is kind of nice. I haven't seen all of it yet, but what I have, I do like. Oh and they have all four major sports as well as PGA and I think Nascar events. I live in a fantastic neighborhood and what seems to be a good ward. Basically, I'm pleased on all fronts. And it can only get better when the DBacks come back for a homestand starting on the 13th. I'll be chilling in my seats, hob knobbing with the other season ticket holders, talking about our yachts and how we hire people solely to replace the toilet paper and start our cars so they're cold whenever we get into them. That's just what we do.

Ok, I have to say this, and if you haven't seen the new Indiana Jones, you're done reading for today. I defintiely saw it, and let's just say I'm glad I only paid the matinee price. Wow. Really? That's the best you got after a fifteen or so year layoff? It definitely dissuaded me from buying the other movies because I now remember that one. Mostly, I'm just glad I didn't get that psyched for the last Rocky because it would have tarnished the first four, which were fantastic. If you want to hear more, I've got more, I just don't want to spoil it for anyone. Word.