Rites of Fall

At last, the Hunt for Red October has ended. Does it mean anything that the Red Sox won on a night with a full moon and a full lunar eclipse? I know not. But the devil is buying ice skates, and the pigs are flying sometime today.

To whoever called me at the bottom of the ninth with two outs, I am sorry I did not answer the phone. The Holy Grail was more important.

Favorite post-game quote: “I don’t believe in curses. You make your own destinations.” (Manny Ramirez)

And can I say it just one more time … I LOVE TIVO!!!

Since we’re discussing Rites of Fall, I would like also to file a complaint with the Parenting Department, please. Digging through my winter coats used to be a guaranteed lottery ticket. I never found less than $5 in the pockets, and once found almost $30. But here is what I have found so far this year: One fire truck with working siren. One Playmobile garbage man, sans hat. James’ much missed coal tender. One half of a petrified Nutrigrain bar, suitable for self-defense. Many, many dead Kleenex-brand facial tissues. But not one penny.

I have issues with this.