ultimately amusing

A few other passing bits of signage that I’ve seen over the last few days; it’s summertime and the mottos seem to show up everywhere. On my way home (by bicycle) the other night I was waiting at a light behind an SUV of sorts that had a license plate the made me twinkle. Like most states, Virginia now has the plexi-plastic plates that allow for an infinite number of supported functions and organizations. If you graduated from Doane College in Nebraska I think you can get the Doane College Alumni plate with associated one-up numbering. Granted, your number will be 001 but at least everyone will know you went to Doane. The plate I saw the other night was a background calling out that the owner/operator was a member of the Virginia CPAs. Oh well…the CPAs. Way back when there was a time when two dudes driving Cameos would give each other a wave, a head nod, a honk as a short recognition of each other’s good taste. I don’t imagine that happens much anymore – license plate backgrounds are now the way we nod our cool ways. I can visualize two or three CPAs coming across each other in the Crate and Barrel parking lot, in step, coming together; a Jets and Sharks thing, scoffing at, and fighting with, the Best Buy Managers and Apple iMac Coolster plates.

Last night I stopped in the central library and noticed a handwritten posted sign on the main doors: “Para / Hang-gliding meeting on second floor”. Where else would they meet? On the ground floor? Right.

I’m easily amused.

I’ve volunteered for near-death activity this summer. I’m in an Ultimate rec league here in the D.C. area. For those not awares, Ultimate can best be described as a combination of soccer and Frisbee on a 100-yard field. This ain’t like when I was 19. Well it is like when I was 19 – I’m not 19. I need new hamstrings, a forehand throw, some of that (limited) jumping ability from high school, and lots of water. Last night’s game started at about 8:30 and was still ongoing when the field lights clicked off at 10pm. There’s nothing like almost 90 minutes of running, chasing, grunting and groaning in the late evening humidity of Arlington. My greatest feat is that I’m probably the oldest player humping up and down the pitch.

I’m NOT listening to the Senate debate on the immigration bill/cloture. I’m not. If I were listening I’d say they are a bunch of chuckleheads. I think Ted Kennedy is going to blow a gasket.

The Eleven (and the remaining kibbutz members) are heading to Vermont for the weekend. I envision sitting on a patio for two-and-a-half days. No molestar!

T.