When things don't go as planned, Joe tries to explain to his supervisor what happened, in hopes that a similar situation can be avoided in the future. I was distracted by the frammis problem, and I miscounted the widgets, he admits.
The boss won't accept that. I don't want excuses! he shouts.
On a related topic, Smallpotatoes complained today on a message board:
Actually, it does help, provided the boss takes the proper tone: not berating the employee but saying, If a similar situation comes up again, I think you should handle it this way. We can't change the past ... but we can change the future.
Early in 1916, according to my hometown Richwood Gazette, Mr. and Mrs. William Swartz had twin daughters. They named them Ethyl and Ethel.
I wonder how that worked around the house? Ethyl, please come here. No, not you, Ethel. I was speaking to Ethyl.
In June of 1929, on the black roof of a local building, the Chamber of Commerce painted RICHWOOD, OHIO in 10-foot yellow letters. This navigational aid for airplane pilots was legible from an altitude of 3,000 feet. I once saw an old aerial photograph of such a sign; I was told it was on the building that housed the service department of my father's auto dealership from 1952 to 1964.
Today, we should paint 150-foot letters on a football field in every city, so that airline passengers can identify the anonymous clumps of buildings they see far below.
In 1955, it was said that America soon would launch into space an artificial satellite of the earth. As an eight-year-old boy, I read with interest the predictions of this great scientific feat.
But on Friday, October 4, 1957, the Soviets beat us to it with their Sputnik.
Around noon the next day, CBS television aired a special report about the satellite, which I watched with even greater interest. To my disappointment, the report ended and a hockey game came on. After that, for some reason I never really learned to like hockey very much.
Other Saturday TV circa 1957:
Often around noon I watched Big Top on CBS, sponsored by Sealtest ice cream. Live in a studio, a ringmaster introduced circus acts. This was shot in limbo (against a black background) without an audience.
One Saturday afternoon, a college basketball doubleheader was scheduled in upstate New York: A vs B, followed by X vs Y. But due to a winter storm, the only team that had arrived was A. Finally X walked into the gym. Because network television was waiting, the pairings were rearranged and X got to play A on TV.
to avoid shootouts or never-ending overtimes?
Before the game begins, give one team a bonus half-point. Perhaps the half-point goes to the visitors to offset the other team's home-court advantage, or maybe the half-point goes to the team with the better record in the regular season. Whatever the tiebreaking procedure, it's spelled out in the rules and agreed to before the game starts.
A half-remembered story from around 1959:
My father either was co-sponsoring a local parade or had booked entertainment for the introduction of new models at his Chevrolet-Oldsmobile dealership. At any rate, the Richwood High School marching band was scheduled to perform. Since my father was paying for it, he asked the band to play See the USA in Your Chevrolet. (The alternative selection: In My Merry Oldsmobile.)
On March 3, 1962, astronaut John Glenn returned to New Concord, Ohio, near my birthplace. I watched the celebration on TV. My father went upstairs to listen to basketball on the radio: #1 Ohio State (54-1 over the last two years) at Wisconsin.
Later that afternoon, Columbus's Channel 4 aired the game on videotape. OSU led the country in shooting with 51%, but this Saturday, Wisconsin built a big lead while holding Lucas, Havlicek & Co. to 32%. As the telecast neared its end, I asked, Ohio State did win, didn't they? But my father wouldn't say. Wisconsin won 86-67.
Duquesne basketball coach Mike Nee had this to say about communicating with his players: You can't talk too much.
That's one of those odd sentences that can have two diametrically opposed meanings, depending on whether Nee was using the word can't to mean should not or are unable to.
The sentence can be interpreted as either
Stop talking! To avoid overdoing it, you must not talk excessively.
A new record loomed when a Cleveland newspaper listed the ten snowiest winters in local history (red dots) and the ten least snowy (yellow dots). All the driest winters came before 1932; all but one of the snowiest winters came after 1977. Isn't this is a clear indication of climate change?
Well, maybe not. Procedures for measuring snow have changed over the years. Also, early measurements were made downtown, within a mile of Lake Erie. More recently, official measurements have been made at the airport, on high ground four miles farther inland and more likely to receive lake effect snowfall.
I sometimes listen to a classic rock radio station that apparently has been playing the same 30 songs for the past 30 years.
My college radio station also had a short playlist of popular songs; but the list wasn't written down, and we changed it weekly as new records were released.
We also broadcast classical music, and I recall that the rules were much different in that department. To discourage the classical hosts from all playing the same warhorse symphonies, any given recording could not be aired more than once in a six-month period!
This graceful shape is called an escervaire. I gave it that name while sketching it when I was about seven years old. It's the profile view of a sort of underhand eephus pitch: the path taken by a tossed rubber ball, from the backswing of my hand (left) up into the air (top) and then down to the ground (right).
Actually the name meant ess curve in the air and I spelled it S-curvair. But the pseudo-French escervaire seems more elegant, don't you think?