We had a busy weekend. We left for Florida Friday afternoon and didn’t get home until late Sunday afternoon. 48 hours of travel for a three-hour football game. Oh well.
Apparently, the controversy with this game (Florida-Vanderbilt), according to the announcers, was the stadium noise, or lack of it. Not counting my time as a student, I have been going to Florida home games since the early 90s. There is no problem with the noise. The fans get up and make noise to disrupt the opponent’s offense when there is a reason to do so. Sorry, ESPN guys, Vandy just wasn’t an opponent to really get everyone screaming themselves hoarse. The one time they actually did get into scoring position, the crowd got loud. Otherwise, the UF ‘D’ didn’t need the help.
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I got a call late last week from one of the organizers of a local charity event, the Chili Bowl.
Mrs. Poolman and I have helped with this event for the past two years. It is an outdoor chili cook-off and multi-band concert in a large downtown park in early December. The idea is to raise money for one or two specific individuals who have serious medical issues and need help with the bills. Each year they pick a different person(s). We got involved two years ago when the beneficiary was the son-in-law of one of our friends, and a co-worker of Mrs. Poolman.
I can offer some assistance in advance publicity through my contacts. Mrs. P and I both go down the help out on the day of the event. The beer truck is the most popular work station. Wonder why? More on this as it develops.
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I talked with the middle of my three sisters last night. She and her family live in South Carolina. I have been considering a short run to see my Dad in Pittsburgh sometime around Christmas. I didn’t want to fly due to the expense, which means driving, roughly 11 hours each way.
Mrs. P was not looking forward to making the drive at all. “After eight hours in the car, I just want to cut my throat,” she said.
I said I would just go on my own, to which Mrs. P said, “No way, are you going to drive that much in four days by yourself. I may cut my throat, but I’ll come with you.”
Knowing how unpleasant this would be, not to mention messy, I have been looking for alternative plans. So I asked Middle Sister if she would like to come along. Mrs. P can stay behind and keep the home fires burning, and I would pick Middle Sister up along the way. It looks like that is going to work. We’ll talk in a day or so to confirm.
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I heard a report on Georgia Public Radio this morning that the state mental health folks are going to make all the state mental hospitals smoke-free in January. I don’t smoke and never have, so I don’t really understand the problem. However, a person-who-shall-remain-nameless, to whom I am very close, is a rather enthusiastic smoker. Judging from her reaction when she is deprived for as little as a couple of hours, I suspect if those mental patients weren’t nuts before they gave up their butts, they would be afterwards.
Maybe this is a job-security program for the mental health folks.