The other day before running errands, I apparently waited a little too long after the garage door opened before putting the car in gear, causing Mom to ask, "What are you thinking?" My honest answer: "I'm trying to remember the full chorus of 'Breakout' by Swing Out Sister." Mom had no follow-up questions.

Breakout

Don't stop to ask. And now you've found a break to make at last. You've got to find a way. Say what you want to say. Breakout.

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Today was Henry's 5th birthday. He woke up early to bark at the pest control guy, then took a nap till after noon, had some of Mom's rotisserie chicken, visited with friends, went for a walk of his chosen direction and duration (that was my present to him; I tend to get impatient with all the mailbox sniffing), and had a nice desert licking the peanut butter off my PBJ knife. When they say it's a dog's life, I assume this is what they 're talking about.

Also today, while Mom and I were out on the patio with the poodles, Henry heard Audrey inside bark once asking to join us, so he took it upon himself to walk back to the kitchen door, which is held shut with a spring, and lean on it just enough that Audrey could get out. Then he calmy went back to lounging around the yard with Louis. That's why we often call him "The Good One." He knows what he is.

Fun fact: as a puppy, he was called Shakespeare. If I'd known that when I took him in, I'd still be calling him that. It fits.

Another fact I learned about him last week (from his foster mother) was that he had been adopted out to more families than I had been led to believe before he came to me at six months. He disliked one of them so much, he walked home to his foster family the next day. That doesn't surprise me. He's a very bright and confident boy, and I'm very pleased he has chosen to stick with me for four and a half years.

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Ok, so if I posted a picture of myself as, say, Jesus, complete with seamless tunic and red shawl, that would be cool with you, right? I mean, people dress up as Jesus all the time. Have you ever seen a passion play without a Jesus? You can even buy Jesus costumes on Amazon. No big deal.

What if I imagined myself healing the sick with my touch? Jesus did that. It'd just be cosplaying. People love to pretend they're shooting webs like Spider-Man or flying like Superman. No one ever complains about that. Emulate your heroes. It's cool.

So long as I'm pretending to be someone with superpowers, I might as well surround myself with people in need, on their knees and begging for my help with their hands together. They do that for Superman, right? You can't really be a hero if you're not helping anyone. That's just common sense.

While I'm at it, how about some sunbeams and angels in the background? Jesus wouldn't have any supernatural pick-up-your-mat-and-walk powers without the Holy Spirit. You gotta have your winged boys at your back, or you'd just be some tent-revival faith-healing huckster. There's no mistaking the real thing.

And then if I then told you that I didn't know what Jesus looked like, I just thought it was me as a doctor and had to do with the Red Cross, you'd believe me, right? Don't you know a doctor when you see one? Who the fuck even knows what Jesus looked like? Jesus? Never heard of him. Where do you get these crazy ideas?

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The headline in today's The Athletic begins: "Ted Ginn, Jr, ex-NFL receiver and UFL coach...". Ted Ginn Jr? Now that's a name I've not heard in a long time. A long time.

Ginn, for those of you who haven't wasted the past few decades following the rotting corpse of a once great football team called the Miami Dolphins, was the 9th overall pick in the 2007 draft. He played his college football for Ohio State, where he set a record for scoring on punt returns. I presume that's why GM Randy Mueller (who had been installed as something of a figurehead GM during Nick Saban's head coaching tenure only to find himself in over his head when Saban abruptly skipped town) drafted Ginn as high as he did. Ginn had great foot speed but hands of stone. He was an immediate bust.

I happened to be in the stands when Ginn finally scored his first NFL punt return touchdown following the Eagles' opening drive in week 11. The Dolphins were to that point winless on the season, and I had already soured on Ginn. My brother, an Eagles fan, knew it. So when Ginn scored, he immediately taunted me with "Who's your fav-rit play-er? Ted Gin Jun-ior!" He would repeat that whenever Ginn's name came up in NFL broadcasts in the following years.

Admittedly, the 2007 coach and roster Mueller assembled didn't do Ginn any favors. (Can you name any of the three quarterbacks who started for the Dolphins in 2007? There will be a quiz later.) But after just three years in Miami, he was traded to the 49ers. Thereafter, he spent equally short terms with the Panthers, Cardinals, Panthers (again), Saints, and Bears. That's actually a pretty good career by NFL standards, and he wouldn't be widely considered as a bust if he hadn't been drafted so high by a team that needed so much help.

Anyway, all that is what I think of when I read the rest of that headline: "...arrested on DWI charge in Texas." I have to say that it's nice to know that some things don't change. Nearly twenty years later, Ted Ginn, Jr. continues to disappoint.

Pop quiz, hot shot! The Miami Dolphins 2007 quarterbacks: Trent Green (5 starts), Cleo Lemon (7 starts), John Beck (4 starts). Lemon was the only QB on the roster when Ginn was drafted. Later-career Trent Green was signed in June on a one-year deal to shore up a terrible roster. John Beck was the rookie QB taken after Ginn with the 40th overall pick, after JaMarcus Russell, Brady Quinn, and Kevin Kolb. There's a reason 2007 is considered one of the all time worst QB classes.

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24/2594. The Boys from Brazil (1978)
This conspiracy thriller is a spy film typical of its era, only with strictly television quality cinematography. However, the brutally violent ending with Doberman Pinschers (a breed with German origins, cleverly reinforcing the conspiracy) is definitely not. I didn't love it, but I was entertained.

25/2595. Palm Springs Weekend (1963)
Perhaps this is best described as Where the Boys Are in the desert... for Easter. With Jerry Van Dyke doing his best Dick Van Dyke impression. Watched with Mom, who spent most of the film complaining about what a fool she was to have once liked Where the Boys Are.

26/2596. Sugar & Vice: A Hannah Swensen Mystery (2026)
Diminishing returns continue diminishing this once delightful series. I know that these productions are limited by formula and actor availability, but I really should start avoiding the ones without Norman the dentist, Hannah's co-detective and former love interest.

28/2598. Dark Victory (1939)
Bette Davis plays a bitch with an incurable brain tumor, but it's a romance? And it was nominated for Best Picture? Yeah, that tracks. Hard pass.

29/2599. Dancing Sweeties (1930)
The title tells you everything you need to know: a couple of strangers get married for a dance contest only to learn that marriage is hard. It never tries to be deep, just a bit of melodramatic escapism for a generation that doesn't yet know what a television set is. And that's okay.

Coke is good for sore feet!

More to come.

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