Tag Archives: ice cream

Happy new year

Everyone knows the real New Year begins the day after Labor Day. January 1st is just a date that brings a new calendar but not much else of significance.

Historically, school starts the day after Labor Day, though many jurisdictions have bumped it to August. Congress is back, Washington traffic will build to its usual awful and the white shoes of those who observe proper etiquette are aptly stored in boxes until next May.

It’s time for resolutions. Last Labor Day, I gave up coffee, but the old demon has dripped back into my life. Time to filter out that and other bad habits that brewed over the summer—the trips to Baskin Robbins, the chips and dips, the carbonated beverages.

It used to be that Labor Day was marked by the Jerry Lewis Multiple Dystrophy telethon, but this year it was a condensed telethon sans Jerry. In honor of Jerry—and because I was a little down—I spent much of yesterday on the sofa, watching a marathon of Jerry Lewis movies on Antenna TV.

Several times over the weekend, I heard from parents who had dropped their freshmen off at college. While sitting with a friend Sunday night, we traded observations about how the college drop-off has changed over the last 30 years.

After filling multiple carts at Bed Bath and Beyond, parents now haul truckloads of electronics, appliances, shelving and bedding (coordinated between roommates) into kids’ dorms, make their beds, set out their color-coded file folders on their neatly organized desks, hang bulletin boards, place their folded tee shirts and underwear into school-issued dressers, set out mailing supplies for writing Grandma, and leave them behind with hugs, tearful goodbyes and as much advice as we can hurl at them while pulling out of the parking lot.

I shared with my friend a memory of moving into my freshman dorm. Granted, I was just moving across town. Regardless, on the night before classes began, I packed one large turquoise pleather suitcase, grabbed an afghan I had crocheted that summer, watched Jerry Lewis sing his ceremonial “You’ll Never Walk Alone” and drove myself to college.

It’s the day after Labor Day once again and I’m looking forward to a happy New Year. It was kind of a weird summer for me, so I’m not particularly sorry to leave it behind. Here’s to a new school year, to resolutions, to fabulous fall fabrics. And to Jerry Lewis.


Filed under Food, Health, Holidays, Movies, Television and Radio

Root root root

You might have noticed one topic that hasn’t been written about in this place:  sports.

That’s because I am uncomfortable writing about things I don’t know anything about.  When the topic comes up in conversation, I can usually get by with an observational nod or hmmm, then I excuse myself to the ladies room.  My lack of knowledge makes me feel like an outsider and my fear of embarrassment makes me want to run for my life before being asked my opinion on something.

Last night I went to a Washington Nationals game.

My husband rushed to buy tickets for this particular game on a hot rumor that some person named Strasburg was going to be pitching and that the game would sell out within hours.  My husband’s instinct was right.  The game sold out before the end of the day we ordered our tickets.

I don’t know a Strasburg from a Stradivarius but I did know that this rumor was akin to hearing that a rock and roll concert coming to town would feature a surprise appearance by Elvis (I was going to say John Lennon but John Lennon is dead).

Anyway, this Strasburg person didn’t pitch before the crowd of nearly 34,000 fans in the Nats’ shiny new stadium last night.  Rumor has it that he’ll be there later this week.

That’s OK.  I still got what I go to baseball games for—a hot dog and ice cream. 

I do enjoy listening to people talk about baseball.  I am impressed when they can throw around stats that they carry around in their heads and I confess I find it exciting to hear about a diving catch, a clutch hit or a golden sombrero.  What, that’s not a tequila drink?

The problem is, with the exception of the hot dog and ice cream, I find watching baseball exceptionally boring.  The skill and nuance are lost on me.  I don’t see the diving catch even when it happens right in front of me, which, according to this morning’s paper, it did.

Another thing.  I don’t know if it’s Washington fans in general or just a coincidence that I’ve seen this at Nationals and Redskins games alike, but I always seem to be seated among loud, obnoxious twenty-something males, full of Budweiser, who yell insults at the opposing team.  Again, it might just be coincidence.  It’s just that I haven’t seen it in the baseball stadium in the next city over.

So let’s bring out Strasburg already and Go Nats.

Word Nymph returns Monday.  Tomorrow she’ll still be taking flak from her family for this piece.


Filed under All Things Wordish, Family and Friends, Food, Sports and Recreation