Birthday #30

On the occasion of my thirtieth birthday, I thought that I would review my life in ten-year increments.

1957: Launch of Sputnik. I am nowhere to be seen. Coincidence? I think not. Also the debut of Leave it to Beaver.
1967: Apparently a famous UFO sighting in Canada.
1977: Birth of me. Also . . . actually, not that much appears to have happened that day.
1987: From the pictorial record, it would appear that I was wearing a frumpy purple party outfit, and I forced my guests to play croquet and read books of scary stories and enter a can-crushing competition.
1997: This is a little fuzzy, since I've never been as good at labeling my pictures as certain people in my family. At the age of 20, I had never dated, did not own my own car or computer, and was just beginning my third year of college. I am sure I had a cake.
2007: I am now a grown-up, whether I want to be or not. By and large, I think this is a good thing. I am still in school, however . . . I also recently celebrated reaching the coveted 19th grade marker.
2017: I hope that I will be forcing neighbor children to play croquet for someone else entirely. Cheers.

NBC apparently has rocks for brains

Since they decided to fire Bud Collins (legendary tennis commentator and Boston Globe correspondent) from Wimbledon coverage after this year. Now, Collins may have an interesting wardrobe, but as far as I know he had recovered from his recent health problems and is more than capable of guiding American audiences through an understanding of tennis. He is an icon, a landmark, a legend. NBC: firing Bud Collins to get a fresher, younger face on the camera is not going to make American tennis prospects any brighter for the foreseeable future! Andy Roddick is just not at the level of Federer or Nadal! Get over it! At least if Bud was around, we could still remember the glory days. Anyway, hooray for Venus Williams for pulling it out again. I can't believe I've spent this long talking about tennis, but there you go.

New Developments in My Life

Apparently I look like a Stop and Shop employee, because twice in the last few weeks I have been stopped and asked where something was. Damn my collection of green shirts! Then again, I can't be held accountable for how nice I look in green . . . but yesterday, I was actually wearing a Red Sox hat as well. How often do you see Stop and Shop employees who are wearing ball caps and pushing shopping carts while on the job? Anyway, I helped both of them as best I could. I prefer to think that they sensed my general aura of helpfulness as a reference librarian (exuded even on my off hours) and not that they are completely oblivious people who have a Pavlovian reaction to green.