From today’s Ledger & Times …
It’s really too hot outside to do anything that doesn’t take place in the air conditioning.
Trouble is, there’s nothing on TV either.
Waiting for Barry Bonds to break Hank Aaron’s home run record with live at-bats interrupting the Cardinals game does not count as entertainment. In fact, the Cardinals themselves aren’t entertaining at this point considering I’m cheering for them.
Seriously, though, at least Bonds broke the record. Surely the next couple of homers he can muster won’t be headlines.
Well, wait, who am I kidding? Between homers, steroids and an ex-mistress in Playboy, I’m guessing having Bonds live a private life is out of the question.
But hopefully his record won’t stand very long. Here’s to hoping Alex Rodriguez surpasses it. Yes, I’m admitting I’m rooting for a Yankee. But just one. Just this once. Not the whole empire.
And I admit that I’m holding out some hope that Albert Pujols continues his consistency, doesn’t get hurt and plays long enough to hit 757 … and counting … home runs.
So while my Cards are floundering and deciding whether they even want to try to defend their World Series title, I’ll hope their schizophrenic play isn’t interrupted with breaking news from San Francisco.
At least next month there will be more on TV. Yes, following that drama that follows Meredith Gray, watching Gil Grissom lead his team to solve another case, laughing with Denny Crane and Alan Shore is entertaining to me and anticipating how Danny McCoy will save the day at the Montecito is entertainment to me.
Being the daughter of educators and a journalist by trait, I must say here that I have read multiple books this summer. Not only have I kept some baby reference guides near, but I’ve gotten through a few James Patterson novels and a new Richard North Patterson book. And I have a whole pile of novels awaiting me.
Thank goodness for new primetime shows scheduled for late September. I wouldn’t want to get sucked into another match-making reality show now that I know Mark Philipoussis picked Amanda, who at one point was a Nashville Predator’s dancer, from a pool of 20-somethings and 40-somethings on “Age of Love.”
Even watching one-time tennis star Philipoussis try to make a comeback of any kind was better than watching Bonds strike out or hit a fly ball. (No, I never saw any of those homers worth the at-bats that interrupted my TV viewing.)
So now I’ll just wait for the weather to cool off enough for me to sit on my porch swing with one of those novels and I’ll be getting my DVR ready for fall premieres.
And I will have no record of Bonds* latest at-bats.
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