I am back from the big weekend paddle tournament in Sewickley. For about the 20th time, I managed to pull defeat from the jaws of victory. This year I was even pooled with a good partner, which robs me of the excuse of blaming someone other than myself. I would like to apologize to this nice lady for my failure to step up when the going got tough.
If defeat is good for the soul, I should be like Mother Theresa now.
But enough about paddle tennis. What is paddle tennis anyway? Never heard of it.
I watched the Oscars last night, at least for a time, and I am surprised that the Reg-ulators did not discuss it more. Perhaps you, like me, had not seen a single film that won major honors.
In truth, I have always found the Oscars to be tedious. They are nothing but an industry event to honor its own. They are, in short, like the Golden Quill awards for best journalism in Western Pennsylvania, only featuring many beautiful people and great clothes (not generally a feature of the Quills). Both events make the old Supreme Soviet look like a model of brevity and interest.
And so to bed I went and slept the sleep of the uninterested.