🧩 Today’s Puzzle Pieces 🧩
The Dark 🎶
Heart Hurt 💔
The Juice 🗡️
THE DAILY UPDATE
Three Things I’m Grateful For Today:
- A work-from-home day.
- My mancave.
- Being off social media for a month now, I believe.
Pursuit of Wordle Godhood: Today’s result: Four. Splendid
Wordle 1,028 4/6
⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜
⬜🟩⬜⬜🟨
⬜🟩⬜🟩⬜
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
Pursuit of Connections Godhood: Today’s result: PERFECTION. Bow down to your Connections God
Connections
Puzzle #306
🟩🟩🟩🟩
🟨🟨🟨🟨
🟦🟦🟦🟦
🟪🟪🟪🟪
The song in my head when I woke up: An encore performance in my morning brain by Death Cab For Cutie … “I Will Follow You Into The Dark.”
Favorite line from the song in my head when I woke up: The soles of your shoes are all worn down/The time for sleep is now/It’s nothing to cry about/
‘Cause we’ll hold each other soon.
Commute Tunes: No commute today. But yesterday evening’s commute to baseball practice had some ouch-my-heart-hurts songs from my Six Months playlist, which is great if you’re in an ouch-my-heart-hurts mood.
- Lifetime, Three Days Grace
- Through The Ghost, Shinedown
- When Does A Heart Move On, Joy Williams
- Come Away With Me, Norah Jones
- Gotten, Slash, featuring Adam Levine
- Colder Weather, Zac Brown Band
- Through Glass, Stone Sour
- Say You Won’t Let Go, James Arthur
- All Of Me, John Legend
- Angel, Sarah McLachlan
- A Symptom Of Being Human, Shinedown
- Broken, Jonah Kagen
- I’ll See You In My Dreams, Giant
- Someone Like You, Adele
- Do You Remember, Phil Collins
- Eyes Closed, Ed Sheeran
- Foolish Games, Jewel
- Fast Car, Tracy Chapman
Something I’m looking forward to today: DoorDashing for some extra buckaroos this evening.
Something I’m looking forward to in the next seven days: Delivery of a new washing machine to replace the one that quit like a bitch.
Something I’m grateful for from yesterday: A good baseball practice with my team yesterday afternoon. We are ready for the tournament that starts tomorrow. I hope we’re ready. I hope.
What I’m writing: Yesterday’s Two Crappy Pages involved writing another “Thing That Will Never Be Seen.” Talk about ouch-my-heart-hurts. Cripes.
What I’ve written: Songs Of Significance: You Were Meant For Me, Jewel
Today’s Stoic Though of the Day: “Who would reject the flood of fortune’s gifts? Anyone who has experienced how easily they flow back.” — Seneca
John’s translation of Today’s STD: “It’s actually perfectly fine to look a gift horse in the mouth, whatever the fuck that’s all about. Our stupid-ass human attraction to the shiny and new can often be the start of the road to ruin. So don’t be a dumbass just because you’re up for some honor or promotion or award or gift. You’ve heard of the Peter Principle? That’s a thing. So engage your brain, dumbass.”
Every generation has its “I remember where I was when …” moments. For a generation a bit older than I, it was the Kennedy assassination. For a generation still older, it was Pearl Harbor. For me, the obvious one is 9/11, but there were others before that. The Challenger explosion. Reagan being shot.
And then there was O.J. I was in South Carolina at my birth parents’ home when the Juice was loose, driving down a California freeway followed by a billion cops and cheered on by a million weirdo spectators in what truly was the harbinger of a new era of “journalism” and court coverage. I remember simply wanting to watch the Knicks play the Rockets in the NBA finals but then being captivated by this spectacle.
And then, of course, there was the trial. I was walking back to my car from class in college when my future wife saw me from her dorm window and screamed, “They reached a verdict!” So I raced home (safely, of course) to watch in stunned silence as he was found not-guilty. It seemed unfathomable that 12 humans with brains could find someone so obviously guilty so completely not-guilty. In many ways, this was the start of the cleansing of the rose-colored tint on my eyeballs that I used to have when it comes to Muricah and its “justice” system.
Now, O.J. is dead. And I guess the only shame is that he never quite got around to finding the real killer like he so badly wanted to do.
Poor Juice.
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