What a week!
-General Stanley McChrystal – the U.S. commander in Afghanistan was fired … uh… resigned after criticizing the President and Vice President. I hear he’s got a much more dangerous job now – he’s going to be an alcohol monitor for Lindsay Lohan.
- Joran Van der Scum recanted his confession in the murder of a girl in Peru… saying he was forced into signing the confession by authorities. Something tells me he’s going to be forced into a lot of things in the years to come…
- Thousands of baffled women suddenly had the urge to have a cigarette on Wednesday afternoon – until they realized what they’d just experienced was actually an earthquake centered in Ottawa Canada and not, well, you know…
- The very same day, Kwame Kilpatrick experienced what you might call a series of “aftershocks”. Nineteen of them to be exact. Federal indictments on tax evasion and bribery that could land him in jail for decades – after he finishes his current stint for probation violation. By the time he gets out of jail, he’ll probably be too old to text at night…
- Today, of course, marks the one year anniversary of the deaths of both Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. Hard to believe!
As for my personal life… I have a confession to make.
After a Full-Family-Father’s-Day-Festival at our house last Sunday… I finally admitted something to myself that I’ve known for a long time: I’m not the greatest griller in the world. I know, I know… you always see pictures of men, spatula in hand, wearing aprons with slogans like “Grill Sergeant” or “The Original Burger KING!” as a mouth-watering array of meat (or in my case Salmon) sizzles on the grill behind them. For years, I was that guy. (sans the apron). Well here’s the problem. What I consider “well done” my family calls “burnt beyond recognition”. Apparently they believe the term “blackened” should only apply to Cajun style fish - not hot dogs. Whatever! The point is… after years of complaints like “I never realized chicken could be this dry”… I made the executive decision to hand over the BBQ tongs to my sons-in-law. It wasn’t easy – but I think it was the right thing to do. Like the time in 2002 when I had the honor of carrying the Olympic Torch… it was time to hand it off to the next guy.
This afternoon I’d planned to take three of my grandki… grandki… um… my daughters’ children, swimming, but they turned me down. They said they’d be too embarrassed to see me in my Speedo!! (Just kidding!)
Have a great weekend and I’ll see you right back here Monday!