Copa América
Biden and Trump are debating, but I’m watching Bolivia vs. Uruguay.
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Uruguay and Argentina are the cream of this tournament and should reach the final. I’d say that apart from them, only the Colombians have much of a chance (but I’d be speculating, since I missed their opening game).
By “much of a chance,” I mean about three percent.
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Among the also-rans, several teams have had matches spoiled by red cards: Ecuador, Peru, and the USA.
I’m a modest person … I don’t like to gloat … but Ecuador’s red card was the least stupid of the three.
A Panamanian also was red-carded; but his punishment came late in the game, and it was for a proper, honest-to-goodness patada.
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Happy birthday to my dear friend, Grace, the Salvationist.
Today also is the fifth anniversary of my dissertation defense. (I just pulled that volume off the shelf. For a double-spaced work, the typesetting really is aquittable.)
It must also be the fifth anniversary of my last meeting with Dick Miller and Nick Sturgeon. 🥺
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R.I.P. Kinky Friedman, the Jewish Texan who wrote hilarious murder mysteries, set in Manhattan, in which he cast himself and his friends as detectives. (This description barely scratches Friedman’s surface.) I learned about him during the first lecture of my first college U.S. history class. I have no idea why he was mentioned, beyond the obvious fact that he was too important to omit.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Uruguay and Argentina are the cream of this tournament and should reach the final. I’d say that apart from them, only the Colombians have much of a chance (but I’d be speculating, since I missed their opening game).
By “much of a chance,” I mean about three percent.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Among the also-rans, several teams have had matches spoiled by red cards: Ecuador, Peru, and the USA.
I’m a modest person … I don’t like to gloat … but Ecuador’s red card was the least stupid of the three.
A Panamanian also was red-carded; but his punishment came late in the game, and it was for a proper, honest-to-goodness patada.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Happy birthday to my dear friend, Grace, the Salvationist.
Today also is the fifth anniversary of my dissertation defense. (I just pulled that volume off the shelf. For a double-spaced work, the typesetting really is aquittable.)
It must also be the fifth anniversary of my last meeting with Dick Miller and Nick Sturgeon. 🥺
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
R.I.P. Kinky Friedman, the Jewish Texan who wrote hilarious murder mysteries, set in Manhattan, in which he cast himself and his friends as detectives. (This description barely scratches Friedman’s surface.) I learned about him during the first lecture of my first college U.S. history class. I have no idea why he was mentioned, beyond the obvious fact that he was too important to omit.