If Writers Were Hockey Players

If writers were hockey players, several New York City literary agents would be missing a few teeth.

More specifically, if I were an Ottawa Senator, I would throw a childish tantrum any time I don't get my way, or even when I do.

Disclaimer #1: I'm a Pittsburgh Penguins fan.
Disclaimer #2: I get that fighting is a part of hockey.

Still, there's a difference between starting a fight to create a momentum shift in a game and pushing, slapping, and punching the nearest Penguin every time the referee blows the whistle.

Maybe I'm just sensitive to athlete behavior with two Pittsburgh Steelers, who will go unnamed here because they don't deserve any more media attention for their transgressions, in the news lately for misbehavior. Let's be honest, these are grown men. They should know how to behave themselves.

Why is such behavior of smacking around the closest human being to you when you get excited acceptable?

I have absolutely no idea.

But I do know if I were a hockey player, my husband would have black eyes on a regular basis. He's a great guy. We have a good marriage, but what I'm saying is this isn't rational anger. It's frequent and unbridled.

If I were a hockey player, I would have to put rubber bumbers on my Jeep to protect myself from all the drivers who are in a rush to pull out in front of me but in no rush to go anywhere. If I were a hockey player, I would plow right through their little Chevy Cavaliers, leaving them on the side of the road to wonder what the heck just happened.

If I were a hockey player, the woman at the grocery store who chit chats about all the wrongs committed by her boyfriend, best friend, and in-laws as she bags my groceries would be covered in egg yolk.

If writers in general were hockey players, the literary world would be quite different. Agents would attend writing conferences wearing pads, helmets, and mouth guards. They would have to.

Critics would write reviews undercover. Their faces and identities would be more protected than governmental witnesses to gang violence.

And when authors make the New York Times Bestseller List? Look out. Nothing can contain that excitement. Well, human rationale can. But apparently, that's lacking if you're a hockey player (i.e. an Ottawa Senator).

Am I the only one who sees this? Just today, my brother said he doesn't care that above-alluded-to Pittsburgh Steeler cannot behave himself off the field, as along as he keeps winning on it.

I'd like to see a man behave like a man. I wonder if these guys let their kids watch them play hockey. I really hope not.

The little ones might be sitting at home thinking, "If I were a hockey player..."

In Living Color

After chatting with some friends today, I realized Fire Marshall Bill actually graced the screen of In Living Color.

Oh, In Living Color.

Talk about a blast from the past.

No rain, and it's going on Friday. Yet, why not another fun video?

If you loved the show, this will bring a smile to your lips.

Rainy Days and Mondays #23

When I was killing time I don't have to kill on YouTube, I found a blast from the past. One of the best characters ever on Saturday Night Live is the ever-safe Fire Marshall Bill.

If you're ready for school to be out for summer, maybe you can invite Fire Marshall Bill for a lesson.

Let me show you something...

Rainy Days and Mondays #22

My day is jam-packed with revisions, edits, and catching up on grades for my patient students who are anxiously awaiting news on their first essays.

So, I'm going to make this short and sweet. It doesn't evoke laughter, but if you're in the publishing world in any way, this should brighten your gloomy, rainy (in Pittsburgh) Monday.

I can't embed it, but it's certainly worth the trip. Take a look.