Vacation is one of the few good things in the average life. At least one of the few things you can look forward to as you plan out.
When you’re a kid, every day is exciting. Bad days really aren’t so bad. A lot of the world is new to you, so you are excited any time you travel. The holidays are no exception. But as you get older events like the holidays became more of a hassle. Besides, everyone has them off.
One of the best parts about a vacation is that the whole time, if you choose to think about work, you can remind yourself that those other poor schmucks are still in the office while you’re laying out in the sun on the beach. But then when you get back, those same people have their hands out. “What did you bring me?” Continue reading The McBournie Minute: No, I didn’t bring you any candy
When I was a kid–wait, where are you going? Stop it. I promise this isn’t some sort of “I remember when” story, despite how the lead sentence sounds. Can we start over again?
When I was a kid, I knew on weekends I could always find my dad watching golf on television. He would eat his lunch, a bologna and cheese sandwich with potato chips mixed in, and sit for hours watching. I tried in earnest several times to watch it with my dad, but my interest always wained.
You see, golf on TV is really, really boring, and this is coming from someone who sits through entire baseball games.
Sure, you can follow along if you know where everyone is and who is leading in the tournament, but the coverage is forced to skip around from one hole to the next after a single shot. This is because nearly every hole has action going on (that’s what she said) and it takes so long for golfers to walk to their next shot. The result is something along the lines of picking up a book, reading page 1, then skipping to page 56, then going to 32, then to page 2 and so on. There’s not much of a story told unless you unscramble it yourself. Continue reading The McBournie Minute: Quiet on the tee, please
Everyone knows about the New York Post cartoon that caused so much controversy last Wednesday. It has angered African Americans across the country. I know what you’re thinking, yet another story about that cartoon. Well it’s not my fault things happen a day or two after my column comes out. Even so, no one’s talking about how this is offensive to my people.
The cartoon shows a dead chimp after being shot by two cops, who proceed to make gleeful cracks about the stimulus bills, as cops are wont to do. This is offensive to black people, according to people like Rev. Al Sharpton, because they have been portrayed as primates for hundreds of years. Plus, a man who is half black just happens to be in the White House supporting the stimulus bills.
You know who else has been portrayed as apes? The Irish. It’s not something people talk about because people don’t want to get our Irish up, but yes, for centuries, especially in the 1800s and early 1900s in the U.S., Irish Americans and Irish immigrants were frequently drawn as a sub-human species in political cartoons. How tragic for this cartoon to come out just before March, better known as Irish History Month. Irish is the new black. Continue reading The McBournie Minute: NY Post hates the Irish
There was a time when I was a U.S. Olympic hopeful, my event: drinking. I would practice for hours and hours on an almost daily basis. I was good–really good. It didn’t matter if I practiced at home or at a bar. Often it was sometimes both. Nor did it matter what I and my teammates drank because we were pretty diverse in our tastes.
However, those days are over. Continue reading The McBournie Minute: I am past my prime
We are gathered here this morning to discuss something very important in everyone’s lives, more importantly, other people’s lives. That subject is the beauty of a wedding and the free alcohol that comes with it.
This past Saturday I spent in Boston for a friends’ wedding. For those of you who have never been to Boston in February, I highly recommend it. It’s beautiful this time of year. It was an oppressively warm 26 degrees on Saturday, with not a cloud in the sky. Most of the snow had melted, leaving only salt and mud behind. This is why Boston’s tourism flourishes during February.
I am convinced that everyone who attends a wedding has one thing on their minds: “I hope this thing has a nice spread.” In this regard, some weddings are better than others. This is what can make or break a wedding for most people. On Saturday, I was not disappointed. There were roughly five courses, or plates, I can never remember the difference, and each one was better than the one before it.
But the best part was the open bar. There, I was free to imbibe as many Jack and Cokes as my liver desired (there was also some drink ordering for the date, as well). There is something mystical about an open bar and being all dressed up for an event. It makes you want to drink, but look fancy doing it. What may have been the smartest move overall at this wedding was there was no dancing, nor was there karaoke. I say this not because I was in danger of dancing or singing (though I was tempted on the Frank Sinatra songs), but because seeing other people do it can ruin an experience.
The year is still young, and by my count, I still have four more weddings on my schedule. May the brides and grooms have eternal happiness, and may the food at their receptions be excellent.