My 3200th Blog Entry.

I miss being a baby, because you get to have milestones. No one cares if you’re an adult and can roll over on a blanket.

The closest I get nowadays is reaching an obscene number of blog entries. As is customary, I’ve selected my favorite five of the last 100:

My Very First Painting. Actually, my first experience was spray-painting over water stains on my dorm’s ceiling. Settle for my second here.

A White-Crime Tour Through My Hometown, Led By Ollie Shevin. Part I. He came from mean streets of West Virginia. Follow him on the semi-scathed streets of Rye.

In Which I Visit The Orange County Fair. Part I. Stuffing my face is my civic duty. Get your hands, mouth, and shirt greasy here.

My Soap Opera Shoot. I paid for three flights and an unused Airbnb for this role. The least you can do is read about it.

Question For You. It’s more like ten questions. Okay, it’s a baker’s dozen here. 

Nice Try.

I received a text from my sister-in-law’s phone, regarding my nephew’s birthday.

I immediately sniffed out it was from my nephew, not-so-cleverly impersonating his mom. 40 bucks for the effort.

Very Proud Of This Girl.

My niece, lining up her shot: “What do you think?”
Me, acting as her caddy: “I think you should try your best?”

On her first day of high school, my niece found out she made the golf team. It’s super impressive, considering she lives in a pretty golf-popular area. (White folks love walking around outside in business casual.)

So now I am a fan of yet another sport, and no longer think the top uses for golf balls are describing hail storms and tumors.

Allow Me To Rant.

I really want to start going to regular services at a synagogue, just so I can yell out “Fake news!”

On the other hand, the phrase now has a bit of mileage on it. Facebook labels stories from sites like The Onion with #satire, to protect those of us who lack a first grader’s critical thinking skills.

But one story really is genuinely exaggerated to the detriment of many people. My alma mater, the University of Maryland, went through a tragedy a couple months ago, after a football player died of heatstroke. His parents hired a slick lawyer who specializes in badmouthing the people he’s suing, which is this case is my school.

He masterminded an article on ESPN.com, and to any of us who are well familiar with our football team, it was obviously fabricated. Yes, a bully of a strength coach ran the poor player excessively in the heat (and the coach has been rightfully fired), but ESPN’s shameless writer branded the program as having a “toxic culture”. America pounced.

One of the stories was about a player who was yanked out of a meeting simply for “smiling”, then told to transfer to another school. Here’s what a teammate told The Baltimore Sun really happened:

Or this, regarding head coach DJ Durkin:

But the damage is done. There’s an ass-full of mock outrage on Twitter calling the Maryland head coach a murderer (he’s been put on leave, but is loved by the players, who want him back) because of one, simple, libelous story. I love DJ Durkin, and it seems patently unfair he may lose his job merely to avoid a PR backlash because people LOVE to vent.

You know, there’s too much negativity in the air. People need to be kinder. I’ll start: Taco Bell’s nacho fries are not terrible. They now have 7% more Mexican seasoning. So there’s that.

DJ Durkin looked like he was doomed, but as an investigation is underway, there’s word out of College Park that he may actually keep his job, and if anyone reading this blog could refrain from wigging over it, much appreciated. Or, if you insist on posting an angry tweet, please add “Not you, Matt” at the end. Thank you.

31 Seconds Of August.

August is that time of year when it’s important to check in on friends with pools or boats to see how they’ve been since last summer.

Here’s my August, one second per day:
 

Winner.

The woman behind me at Food 4 Less had her long-weekend game plan dialed in: purchase enough food and booze to never have to leave the house for three days.

I’d like to claim second place. I had lunch out with friends, did some day drinking yesterday at Public School, won big money when my Maryland Terps embarrassed Texas for the second year in a row, and I answered the age-old question: How long do you have to wait between naps?

Back to work. Writing sitcom episodes two through six. Tanned, rested, and ready.

One Of Us Is Having A Kickass Labor Day Weekend.

Nothing like going to Simmzy’s, then coming home to Ricky reeking of burgers and betrayal.