Good morning and greetings, New Year’s fans. Well, according to my Laura Bush Memories calendar, 2008 is now just a fading memory as 2009 is upon us. And much like the day I strolled down the wedding aisle, there is no turning back. I have to admit, I’m going to miss 2008, just like I’m going to miss trips to the doctor, dentist and the free throw line. Speaking of which, not to toot my Lena horn, but my son Jason is 27 for 32 from the charity stripe for the PCS Pumas so far this season. I shot the same percentage (84%) in my playing days, but that was shooting layups by myself in practice.
Returning now to our regularly unscheduled program, the last trimester of 2008 was not the most glamourous or titillating when it came to brilliant colors in the sky. Of course, there were a couple of nights I missed due to Security Council meetings but on the whole this was not a year that will go down in the Hall of Flames.
But the last week of December did have its moments and today we will take a look at the most colorful and enchanting sunrise from that post Christmas Day action. These shots were taken on the final Sunday of 2008, the most 28th of December. I arose from a restful night of sleep, having had my usual arrary of dreams, which included not having studied for a test, not being able to find my car and not being able to dunk with my left hand. As I looked outside I could see a red tinge in the early morning clouds and took that as I sign that we were in for something very good this morning.
So I tore of my George Jetson pajamas, packed up my aura and camera and headed down to Its Beach. It was still kinda dark and the sand was as cold as a frozen mozzarella stick but one look at the sky said something special was on the way. And yours truly was not disappointed. As you can see from the photos, red was the color of the day as the sand blazed with the rouge from the Monterey Bay sky. It’s mornings like this that make me want to leave the cozy confines of my upper westside sports sanctuary to captures moments of early morning Santa Cruz magnificence that I can later share with you cyber readers and members of the NCAA, the NBA, the most importantly, those listening in with the NSA.
Now that we’ve got those photos out of the way, on to the comedy section of our program. This one courtesy of my Spanish-language loving, pre-med 9th grader Jason. Old Doctor Morris went to see a patient in her home. “Could you fetch me a hammer from the garage?” he asked the woman’s husband. The husband fetched the hammer. “Right,” said the doctor a couple of minutes later. “Now I’d like you to get me some pliers, a screwdriver and a hacksaw.” The husband became alarmed at the last request. “Just exactly what are you going to do to my wife?” he asked. The doctor replied. “Nothing until I can get my medical bag open.”
Love this one. A man walks into a psychiatrist’s office with a pancake on his head, a fried egg on each shoulder and a piece of bacon over each ear. “What seems to be the problem?” asked the psychiatrist. The man said, “I’m worried about my brother.”
And for you religion fans and canine lovers, a man lived alone in the country with his dog. One day the dog died and the man went to his parish priest and said, “Father, my dear dog is dead. Could you possibly say a Mass for the poor creature?” The priest replied, “I’m afraid not. We cannot have a service for an animal. But there’s a new denomination down the lane and there’s no telling what they believe. Maybe they’ll do something for your dog.” “Thank you, Father,” said the man. “I’ll go right away. Do you think five thousand dollars is enough to donate for the service?” The priest exclaimed, “Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus. Why didn’t you tell me your dog was Catholic?”
So in the words of Chicago Transit Authority, this is “only the beginning” for 2009. We have more photo highlights from 2008 that will be coming down the pike during the month of January. And of course, lots more jokes. Until then, enjoy the winter sky, savor your friends and family and remember to take things day by day. We’ll catch you in the Meadlowlands. Aloha, mahalo and later, Darren Sproles fans.