Dear Kid,

You got one guy going boom, one guy going whack, and one guy not getting in the endzone. ~ John Madden

Tonight is the Homecoming Football Game (High School) between Our Heroes (YAY!) and the Other Team (also known as Them).

When I went to Catholic high school in Philadelphia, we just had one coach for football and basketball. He took all of us who turned out and had us run through a forest. The ones who ran into the trees were on the football team. ~George Raveling

Our Heroes (Yay!) will be wearing green (unless they are wearing black—my usual informant on the subject is doing homework and I have been told Not To Interrupt) and the Other Team (OT) will be wearing something else. Probably white.

The reason women don’t play football is because eleven of them would never wear the same outfit in public. ~Phyllis Diller

Since it is Homecoming, we expect the game will be exciting, the stands will be full, and the crowd will be loud.

There are several differences between a football game and a revolution. For one thing, a football game usually lasts longer and the participants wear uniforms. Also, there are usually more casualties in a football game. The object of the game is to move a ball past the other team’s goal line. This counts as six points. No points are given for lacerations, contusions, or abrasions, but then no points are deducted, either. Kicking is very important in football. In fact, some of the more enthusiastic players even kick the ball, occasionally. ~Alfred Hitchcock

Also since it is Homecoming, the band will be out in full force and the Court will be Crowned.

The thing about football – the important thing about football – is that it is not just about football. ~Terry Pratchett, Unseen Academicals

Note: Being that it’s a Terry Pratchett quote, it’s probably about soccer not American football. But being that it’s a Terry Pratchett quote, one can never be 100% sure. I read the book and I while I’m reasonably certain, I can’t be 100% sure.

It is supposed to rain. This is likely to dampen some of the enthusiasm.

Today I will do what others won’t, so tomorrow I can accomplish what others can’t. ~Jerry Rice

We expect that Our Heroes (YAY!) will win. Expect some degree of excessive celebration.

Anyone who’s just driven 90 yards against huge men trying to kill them has earned the right to do Jazz hands. ~Craig Ferguson

Have you ever noticed that there are a lot of football/life analogies?

The game of life is a lot like football. You have to tackle your problems, block your fears, and score your points when you get the opportunity. ~Lewis Grizzard

We will be at the football game. With any luck we will be warm(ish) and dry(ish) and celebrating the victory of the Homecoming.

Football combines two of the worst things in American life. It is violence punctuated by committee meetings. ~George F. Will

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Once upon a time, Joe Neanderthal went out with his buddies to go hunting. Being Neanderthals, they didn’t have the option of going to the nearby store and picking up dinner on their way home so they had to stay out hunting until they actually caught something. In the interim there were lots of stories about the mammoth that got away and whether or not the saber-tooth squirrels were looking especially furry that year.

Eventually the Neanderthals clunked something over the head and dragged it home to their various spouses. Mrs. Joe Neanderthal was of the opinion that Joe had taken rather longer than was necessary and therefore clunked him over the head. Fortunately, Joe was extremely hard headed and just staggered around a while until he felt like himself. This is generally considered the First Homecoming.

In modern times, the first homecoming was in 1911 at the University of Missouri. There are some disputes about which college held the first homecoming. But since the Most Important Authorities in the Land (by which I mean Jeopardy!, Trivial Pursuit, and NCIS) all say it was Missouri, I think we can agree it was Missouri. Anyone who wants to argue with Alex and/or Gibbs is on their own as far as I’m concerned.

Here is a recipe for a successful Homecoming:

1. Arrange for clear weather. Downpours, drizzles, squalls, tornadoes, and flurries tend to put a damper (get it? Ha!) on the activities.
2. Participate in spirit week. If you’re a high schooler, roll your eyes but participate anyway. Be especially annoyed about “Denim Day.”
3. Agonize about a date to the Homecoming Dance. Once the “who” is settled, agonize about the “what to wear,” the “who else is in the group,” the “where to take pictures,” the “where to have dinner,” and any other details you can think of.
4. If you’re in Texas, include mums. And by “mums” I mean huge, over decorated concoctions. I’m not from Texas so I don’t really get it, but I have it on good authority that mums are a critical part of homecoming in the Lone Star State.
5. Have a parade and a pep rally. Not necessarily at the same time, but when one rolls into the other, it’s a nice touch.
6. Tailgating is considered by many to be a mandatory part of the weekend.
7. Crown the court. It is more interesting if you know the crownees, if someone falls off the risers during the crowing, or if they try to crown a band member who’s still wearing a marching band hat.
8. Win the football game. This is a considerably better option than losing the football game.
9. Enjoy the homecoming dance. Attendance is not a guarantee of enjoyment, but it is a prerequisite. There will be pre-dinner photos. Deal with it and smile.
10. Tell your mother everything. Telling All does not guarantee a peaceful existence, but it is likely to cut way down on the Annoying Mom Questions.

Happy Homecoming! Whether you’re coming home for it or not.

Love, Mom

Homecoming Part II tomorrow. Probably.

Dear Kid,

Have you heard the latest kerfuffle?

Kerfuffle: noun | (informal, mainly Brit) commotion; disorder; agitation

Kerfluffle: noun | chaotic plush toys

The latest is the 3033 Olympics. Nope, wait. Typing with the lights out can be dangerous.

The latest is the 2022 Olympics. Apparently, no one, but no one, wants to host the Games.

Basically, the world is playing a game of “nose goes” and the only ones without their fingers on their schnozes are Beijing (nowhere near cool ski mountains) and Almaty (the well-known winter resort of NOT).

Why is this? As I understand it (and to be clear, I did extensive research by reading exactly one post provided by My Friend the Internet—the title caught my eye which means it must be true), Russia lost a LOT of money hosting the Sochi games and no one seems to think that losing a LOT of money is a great investment.

Then there is the true blue honest and above board (and by “true blue honest and above board” I mean totally corrupt and bribery-infested) way that the IOC operates. It seems that while everyone knows it’s a hot mess, not all that many countries want to get involved. Sur-prise.

So it may be that the 2022 Olympics will be in Kazakhstan or China. Or they may be on Mars (according to a recent survey, no one on Mars hates the IOC – at least not yet). Or perhaps they’ll be someplace like Miami. It all makes about the same amount of sense to me.

The thing is, no matter where the Olympics are held, most of us will tune in to watch. And we will focus on the athletes, not on the IOC (except for the occasional snarky blog), and we will be amazed by what humans can do. We will cheer and we will cry and we will learn the rules of curling and biathlon only to forget them for the next four years.

Because no matter how hard the IOC tries to make this about the IOC, we-the-world know that the Olympics are about everything except the IOC.

Love, Mom

Want the latest news? Go somewhere else. Want lots of DearKidLoveMom.com? You’re in the right place. How about signing up to get DKLM delivered to your email? It’s easy, it’s painless, and you won’t end up the subject of a snarky blog. (Top Right corner of the page has the sign up.)

Dear Kid,

Do you know how hard it is to type a post while you’re driving? To be clear, I’m not driving Dad is, but it’s still darn difficult. Made even more difficult because I’m typing on my phone (thank heavens for autocorrect) which is a great deal completely unlike working on a regular keyboard.

All in all, not the smoothest thing I’ve ever done.

We are driving to East Boofoo ( or more accurately South Boofoo) for today’s football game. And by “Boofoo” I mean spotty internet service.

Dad is reading signs as we go. “Sycamore Place…Ivy Pond…Burgers…Big Sale”. Not sure why he enjoys sign reading so much, nor do I know why he reads them out, but he does and he does.

The good news is it’s a beautiful day–at least at the moment. The clouds haven’t begun to unload their burden–at least at the moment–and the sun (at least at the moment) hasn’t gotten fierce.

(20 minutes later)

Ah, what a difference a mere 20 minutes can make. As I got out of the car Dad reminded me to take a jacket because a cold front was coming in. I listened to Dad and took the jacket. The weather did not listen to Dad. The sun came out just in time for the game and I put on SPF 25000 just in time for the sun. The we huddled underneath an umbrella for shade. I don’t think I got fried, but perhaps lightly toasted.

The team got thoroughly toasted so we won’t talk about that at all.

Have a great day kiddo.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

My gym (well, it’s not mine, it’s the community’s). The gym I belong to has a wide range of people who come to work out. The fit, the not so fit, the Sponge Bob wannabe. The young, the ancient, the in-between (I fall into that category—you may refrain from comment). We also have a wide selection of college students.

I know they are college students because a) they look like college, b) they talk like college students, and c) some of them have told me they’re college students.

Not all of them speak English as their first language. But it doesn’t really matter. It’s easy enough to follow what’s going on.

Yesterday, two guys were doing shoulder presses. They did not sneer derisively at my ½ pound weights (I’m kidding—they did sneer). One was pressing 35 pound dumbbells (we’ll call him 35) and one was pressing 45 pound dumbbells (we’ll call him 45). 35 pressed, 45 spotted. Then they switched. Much Spanish after which 35 tried pressing the 45s (without much success). Switch. Then 35 went to retrieve the 35 pounders—much Spanish. Several significant looks. 35 came back carrying 40 pound dumbbells. “Peer pressure” he said in English. I didn’t need the translation.

Then there’s Look at Me Dude. He was also working shoulders, using 65 pound weights. For the record, they were too heavy which gave him the opportunity to grunt and groan and grimace and then to drop those suckers on the floor (shaking the entire building so everyone would look up to see what had happened and startling Yours Truly who’d been spending time between sets texting a certain remote college student).

Plank Girl is very thin, very athletic, and very unassuming. She doesn’t care if she’s near a mirror or not. She comes to work. Hard. She’s friends with the girl majoring in American Sign Language (we had a conversation a while ago). I’ve seen Plank Girl work out and she’s a machine. I’m convinced the only reason she changes position when she’s doing planks is boredom. Otherwise she’d still be there 6 hours later.

My Business is Your Business works out semi-regularly. And by “semi-regularly” I mean approximately 1/3 of the time he’s at the gym. The rest of the time is spent slapping other dudes on the back and shouting into his cell phone.

The Two Math Majors (actually I’m guessing they are grad students) sport matching wispy beards and discuss weird calculations as they work out. They have one muscle that they share.

I Love Me Dud (why are the I Love Mes at the gym so often men?) grabs a spot by the mirror and proceeds to do exercises designed to show (himself) every muscle. In case you weren’t sure, he accepts the hint and looks at himself. I’ve never seen him actually kiss his muscles, but it’s probably because he doesn’t like PDAs and kisses at home.

And then there is the small child in the locker room singing Do, a Dear at the top of her lungs. Well, singing 70% of it. “La, a needle is a thread!!!” Translation? Joy, pure joy.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

If you happen to be wandering around Croatia, be sure to go to Pula. And if you happen to be wandering around Pula, be sure you go to the amphitheater.

Generally called the Pula Arena, the amphitheater was built a long time ago. And by “a long time ago” I mean somewhere between 27 BCE and 68 AD. Or possibly all those years. It’s a big coliseum. That’s about the same time The Coliseum was built in Rome (just so you have a reference point).

The Pula Arena is the best preserved of the coliseums (colisei?) being the only remaining Roman amphitheater to have four side towers and all its side and parts (except the women’s restrooms which are mysteriously missing).

The amphitheater is made out of limestone and it’s big. But if you want the dimensions you’ll have to look them up yourself since I’m perfectly content with “big” as a descriptor. It had bunches (again, a fine number in my opinion) of shops probably with signs that said “restrooms for patrons only.” There were 15 gates to let in up to 23,000 spectators who came to gawk at gladiators.

Which raises the question: Were gladiators generally glad? I doubt it, but I’m not aware of any time travel experiments to study gladiator personality.

Maximus: What we do in life echoes in eternity.

After the Romans were finished with the arena, they left it lying right where they’d thrown it. During the middle ages, people used the arena for grazing their livestock. This made things complicated (logistically speaking) when the knights (not of the round table) wanted to hold tournaments there. Guess who got use of the land?

Maximus: Strength and honor.

These days the Arena seats about 5,000 people. This is only partly due to the enlargement of bodies. Concerts, film festivals, equestrian events, and the opera regularly call the Arena home. More importantly (depending on how you look at these things), two professional ice hockey games were played there in 2012.

Quotes because I love you not because they have anything to do with the arena.

Love, Mom

Tigris: We who are about to die, salute you!