Wednesday
From 25 Funniest Signs That Will Crack You Up by Jaimie Hamilton, msm.com:
Florida has executed 14 killers in 2026. The state means business. I’ve always been squeamish about the death penalty, although I know murderers earn it. It’s one of the reasons I can’t call myself a full conservative.
Another plus. Headline from newsmax.com: “AI Tool Spots Heart Disease in Two Seconds.” Speed it up, Guys.
I didn’t spot anything else fresh in today’s news so, since footballs season has begun, here’s the opening from Adjustments, a portrait of an average high school team. It includes the most memorable moments from my playing and coaching stints:
He couldn’t get over how pleasant the evening was. It wasn’t at all cold. There wasn’t a breath of wind, not like the bitter one that had blown during last year’s game. Fog hung, apparently stagnant, above the lights of the field like a supernatural force about to pounce upon its prey. Logic dictated that the dampness should have penetrated to the bone this mid-November night, yet it seemed impotent. The conditions were ideal for football. Even baseball could have been played, although a high fly would surely vanish in the fog.
“What d’you think, Rick?” said a heavy-set, bearded man, on whose navy-blue jacket “Coach Eckert” was stitched in white at the right breast. “Lloyd Norris” was emblazoned on its back.
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Rick Caso, a broad-shouldered, dark-featured young man of medium height, was wearing a similar jacket. “We should beat ‘em,” he said quietly. “They had their chance. If we score once more there’s no way we’ll lose.”
The team, 33 strong, filed out of the visitors’ locker room, silver helmets gleaming in the night, reflecting the electric light in the area. Many of the devices showed streaks of red, the opposition’s color. The blue “LN” stood out boldly, as did the stripe that divided the helmet in half. The dark jerseys and grey pants were soiled with dirt and grass. Some were torn and stained with blood. In contrast, the uniforms of those who hadn’t participated in the action seemed immaculate. The white of the numerals was pure, striking.
The squad was handsomely equipped. In keeping with the fashion of the era, many of the boys had long hair, which protruded from the helmets. The image of Prince Valiant flashed through Rick’s mind. His own hair was short. He chuckled at the recollection of his shock at the sight, in 1966, of the three young men on John Jay’s varsity who had had flowing locks. Eight years later, it had become the norm.
The rain held off and the Anti-Inflation Book Shop had a good day. My thanks to Ray, who pulled up in an SUV and donated a great cache of books, and to the woman who dropped off a paperback in Russian; and to those who bought books, music and movies in that language; and to the ladies who bought an ESL Grammar Guide; and to the old timer who purchased Ship of Fools by Tucker Carlson and Learn to Earn: A Beginner’s Guide to the Basics of Investing and Business by Peter Lynch and John Rothchild; and to the woman who took home Chicken Dishes by Quant Megre.
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