Trips down memory lane...and other stuff...
Due to the big holiday on Monday, those of us who toil at The Paragraph Factory once again had to adjust our deadlines.
That meant yours truly had to come up with another not-an-award-winning column on Thursday. Because Thursday was Friday. Or, maybe Monday. Friday became Monday. Monday was what amounts to a “none day,” in that some folks who regularly toil on Monday did not have to do so. Tuesday became Monday and Tuesday.
(Turns out this didn’t get finished until Friday morning. Which was Monday this week.)
Faced with the pressure of an early deadline for this week’s publication, yours truly plumbed the depths of creativity...and this is the best that I could come up with. Once again, it will be a little bit of this...and a little bit of that.
One evening last week, as I was motoring home from The Paragraph Factory, I caught the end of a song on the radio by a group called Sly and the Family Stone, which was very popular...way back in the day.
Hearing the song led to one of those trips down memory lane. The memory involved a very brief eye-to-eye contact that yours truly had with Mr. Sly a long, long time ago. The moment occurred on a stage in a venue where I worked while going to school at Southern Illinois University Carbondale. Sly and the Family Stone were performing in concert.
The moment didn’t last very long, and I’m pretty sure that Mr. Sly would have no reason whatsoever to remember the encounter. After all, he was a star. I was not. Some things never change.
Another trip down memory lane came to mind when I saw that a group called the Little River Band is scheduled to perform at the upcoming SEMO District Fair in Cape Girardeau.
A long time ago, but not quite as long ago as the previously mentioned Sly and the Family Stone concert, I had a rather brief connection with Little River, which is in Australia. I suppose that makes sense, since the Little River Band is from Australia.
At the time, I was on a tour bus with a bunch of other folks and happened to drive past a sign which made note of Little River. No mention was made by those on the bus about the band. Seemed odd at the time. Still does.
Enough about moving around some of the dust in the bin between my ears. Let’s move on to some more exciting stuff.
I’m not much of a soccer fan. The sport just doesn’t do much for me. That being said, I may become a fan of the sport in the not too distant future.
The City of St. Louis has been awarded a Major League Soccer franchise. I hope the team is a success. Like a big, big success.
I say that because of the owner of a certain National Football League team who pretty much said that the City of St. Louis was a dumpster fire when he decided to take the money and run all the way to Los Angeles. Oh, he took the team with him.
With that in mind, I’m also hoping that a St. Louis team in a new professional football league, something called the XFL, also will be a big, big success. I’m still not sure about football being played in the spring, but that’s another story.
It might sound like I’m bitter about the former St. Louis football team. In a way, yes I am bitter. However, like a lot of other folks, I’ve moved on. There are more interesting ways to spend Sunday afternoons.
I did see recently that there apparently is some sort of court settlement which might allow fans to receive some sort of financial compensation for the money they spent on such things as tickets, t-shirts and ball caps.
I still have a t-shirt with the name and logo of the NFL team which used to play in St. Louis. I have never worn the t-shirt. I bought it when the team was bad. Really bad. I was saving it for when the team might be good again.
The team is good now. It’s just that the team is in Los Angeles. Life goes on.