Mundane, your name is Saturday

For a Saturday, yesterday was about as uneventful as a day can be. In the morning I dusted and vacuumed the downstairs. The furniture on the upper floor remains dusty. Hah!, "upper floor" denotes a grandiosity in my house that certainly does not exist.  The wife went to lunch and shopping with a friend and i grabbed some Chinese takeout. I spent the afternoon watching my first college football game since this time last year, seeing the Wabash College Little Giants fall in defeat to the evil DePauw Dannie's (spit). In the evening we watched the granddaughter for a couple of hours so her mom and dad could do a little shopping for the kid's upcoming second birthday and Christmas. I came home, shared a bowl of popcorn with the missus, watched some TV and went to bed.  Ho hum.

And that thirty seconds it took to read that post is wasted time you will never get back. I bet that makes you sad. You might even cry. You could be disappointed. I suggest you go out and riot in the streets. That seems to be the way we deal with disappointment these days. I blame it all on soccer. If the youth soccer leagues would not insist on their idiotic policy to never keep score, to tell every kid there is no winners or losers, to award everyone a trophy, then we would not have a generation of idiots shocked, dismayed, near a nervous breakdown when they find out sometimes in life there are actual winners and losers.

Damnit, I swore to myself there would be no political rants in today's offering. Don't read that last paragraph.