Dear Kid,

Happy Day After Oops! I Forgot It Was Saint Patrick’s Day and I Have To Go Change My Shirt Madness Day.

There were lots of reasons to have fun yesterday: Basketball, Shamrocks, Basketball, Leprechauns, Basketball, Pots o’ Gold, and Basketball, and reruns of Project Runway All-stars.

Also, it was the start of March Madness. (Just in case you weren’t sure.) You can tell it’s March Madness because I just threw a pair of jeans across the room and they landed (more or less) in the chair I was aiming for. (You’re impressed, right?)

We’ve talked before about basketball, and more basketball, and more basketball, because March Madness shows up each year. Here’s the important part: basketball players are tall. Really tall.

J2 and I were at the gym the evening, walking on the track and solving all the world’s problems when we noticed a basketball-player-type person also walking on the track. We could tell he wasn’t a professional player because A) he was at our gym and B) we could see his head without binoculars. We could tell he was a basketball-player-type because A) he was bouncing along in the way only a “type” can and B) tall.

As we passed him (“type” not an actual player), I said, “I feel like an ant.” J2 said, “I know! I think I could walk between his legs and not hit anything.” This was comment on his height, not a slur on his manliness. At least that was my assumption.

The thing is that on TV the actual b-ball players playing actual b-ball look like they are normal sized. They’re not. They are huge. They just look normal because A) all the players are about the same size so it’s hard to tell how much bigger they are than normal humans and B) your TV isn’t life size. Well, your TV is the size of your TV, but the images (and by “images” I mean people) aren’t the size they are IRL.

Love, Mom

P.S. Tomorrow is National Poultry Day (don’t chicken out).

Dear Kid,

We’re coming up on March Madness season, and I speak not of St. Pat, but of the basketball craziness.

Doubtless, there will be craziness on the 17^th, but we’ll deal with that another day.

So since MM is fast approaching, I thought I’d turn to My Friend the Internet and find some wonky rules to make fun of highlight.

Turns out that on the day when wacky rules were being handed out, college basketball stayed home. There just isn’t a basket-load (see how I did that?) of crazy, who-thought-that-would-be-a-good-idea regulations.

Other sports have plenty of crazy rules. Even chess has rules no one knows about (and even fewer understand). Cricket is a game made up entirely of crazy rules.

But apparently not so in bball.

Note: There are plenty of crazy (as in certifiable) NCAA rules, but they apply to all sports, not just basketball, so they don’t count. At least not in this respect.

Speaking of things I didn’t know, who knew that baskets grew on trees?

Enjoy the Madness of March—even without entertaining rules.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

In 1891, James Naismith was sitting around watching clouds and butterflies in the Springfield, MA sky and decided to invent basketball. Actually, I’m not sure there were clouds and butterflies. And there wasn’t any sky because Naismith was inside.

The real story. Naismith went to college at McGill (in Canada) where he played pretty much every team sport, including gymnastics. Then he graduated and became the director of athletics at McGill and eventually moved to Springfield, MA, to be a physical education teacher (that was in the days when it was called physical education because we hadn’t invented the word “gym” yet) at the YMCA International Training School (now Springfield College).

In case you hadn’t thought about it, I should point out that it is not tropical in Springfield, MA, in the winter. In fact, it is downright cold. And up to that point, indoor games were not physical enough to burn off the energy Naismith’s class brought to the Y every day.

The head of the Physical Education department told Naismith to invent a game (in 14 days) that would “provide a physical distraction.” The game also had to 1. Not take up too much space, 2. Keep the track athletes in shape, and 3. Be fair and not too rough.

Naismith got to work and poof! basketball was invented. As he created the new game, Naismith wanted a game that didn’t have the hazards of a small ball or puck (so he used the big, soft soccer ball). He decided passing was the safest (there was no such thing as dribbling at that point—players had to pass the ball from the point at which it was passed to them). And he reduced body contact by nailing the baskets (peach baskets at the time) over player’s heads so that the goal was unguardable.

Clearly modern day basketball has poo-pooed the no contact part of the original rules.

The first game of basketball was played December 15, 1891. During the first game “Most of the fouls were called for running with the ball, though tackling the man with the ball was not uncommon.”

In 1904, basketball became a demonstration sport at the Olympics in St. Louis, and in 1936 became an official sport in the 1936 games. Cool note: Naismith got to hand out the medals: US (gold), Canada (silver), Mexico (bronze) and was named the honorary president of the International Basketball Federation.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

I’m guessing that since you are spending your time on collegiate pursuits like studying (maybe?), going to basketball games, playing flag football, and sleeping, you have not had sufficient time to contemplate the Washington Monument.

Not to worry. I am here—as usual—to rectify the situation.

Are you familiar with the military term BLUF? It’s a concept I learned many millennia ago, but didn’t know it had a cool military acronym until recently. BLUF = Bottom Line Up Front. In other words, tell me the point and then you can go back and fill in the details and if it’s absolutely necessary I may keep reading.

The point: On December 6, 1884, the Washington Monument was completed.

We now return to the Interesting Story.

Once upon a time (as I continue to believe all good stories should begin), there was a baby country in the throes of Revolution. There arose a Great Leader with Bad Teeth (G. W. himself) who led the country to military victory, became the first President of the new Republic, and earned the title “Father of Our Country.”

We The People thought this was quite terrific and decided there should be a statue of G. W. himself. Well, Congress decided but since Congress represents We The People….(excuse me while I giggle helplessly for a moment).

When Pierre L’Enfant laid out the new federal capital area (1791), he left a Spot for the statue. And because Congress was in charge, nothing happened.

Fast forward to 1832 (33 years after G. W. himself died) when the National Monument Society was formed. They held a contest to determine the design of the statue and chose a Greek-temple-ish design. Then they began to raise money. While they raised a fair amount (it was 1832 you’ll remember), the $230K they raised was nowhere near the $1 million they needed. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Because it was Washington, DC, they began construction anyway because why not? By the time they laid the cornerstone (a 24,500 pound block of pure white marble), it was 1848.

Six years later, they ran out of money and everything came to a grinding halt.

Then in 1876, 100 years after the country was founded), President Ulysses S Grant (who would later be found in Grant’s tomb) said WTF? and got things moving again.

Somewhere along the line the design went from Greek-temple-ish to big column of marble and on December 6, 1884, workers placed the 9 inch aluminum pyramid at the top and called it a completed statute.

It looks exactly nothing like G. W. himself, but is quite a nice tribute nonetheless.

The monument (to G. W. himself) is made of 36,000 blocks of marble and granite and towers 555 feet high. This is taller than I am. There is a city law (passed in 1910) that says that no buildings in DC can be taller than the monument.

You may now return to your previously scheduled studying (I hope), going to basketball games, playing flag football, and sleeping.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Not to worry. Yes, we got 7 ½ inches of snow last night and yes there is a lot of ice, but we’re fine. Booker slid around a little unexpectedly this morning (the broken pipe left quite an ice rink out front) but nothing we couldn’t handle.

After breakfast of Eggs Benedict (I am getting really good at homemade Hollandaise sauce), Dad and I finished painting the foyer. We’ve never built scaffolding before, so it was a bit of an adventure painting the second story from a somewhat uneven platform. I’m happy with the way it turned out and I’m glad I let Dad talk me into a pea soup green sort of shade. It’s not easy being green, whether you’re a frog or a wall.

I’m hoping the ice melts quickly because they are supposed to begin construction on the bi-level pool next week, and I’m sure we’ll have overages and permitting problems if we fall behind schedule. I’ve already bought Booker a doggy flotation device but I’m sure he’ll love his swimming lessons.

Pi is being actively recruited to play basketball (forward) in college. She is trying to decide whether to join a b’ball school or become a brain surgeon.

I’m going to New York later today to meet the Mayor and accept an award on the Food Network (did I mention my incredible Hollandaise?). I expect it will be a long day, but I’ll be home before dinner which is important because I am releasing a home-hacked version of gmail this evening.

Happy April.

Love, Mom