Smokin' cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo

I'm late to the old blogeroo on this Labor Day holiday. The wife and I stayed up later than late doing some nekkid wrestling.

I wish

No, but we did stay up later than late catching up on last season's TV shows in time for the next to start. I went to bed at three and woke at 6:30. I turned over and went back to sleep until just short of 9:00. I think I last slept until 9 back in the 1980s.

Some yard work is on tap for today. I may fire up the smoker, but that means a trip to the store, like NOW, to get some appropriate meat. Maybe I'll smoke a cigar instead. Does that count? Ba-dooomp. Thank you very much, don't forget to tip your server.

The Cubs are touting  their 1969 team. Only the Cubs would find a reason to celebrate one of the biggest collapses in sports history. the Miracle Mets only existed because of the Northside choke job. This years' promising squad appears to be headed in the same direction. They spent the weekend scoring exactly as much as I did -- zero, zip, zilch. You can't win games if you do not score runs. Actually hitting the ball would be a good start.

Have a great Labor Day. I think it is nice we honor the pain of child birth. Our Moms are saints. Mine was anyway.

What?

Oh.  Unions?

Screw 'em. How about we call it the "Here comes Fall"  holiday instead?