Here’s my plan: I’m going to keep talking about Rob and taking pictures of him on set in preparation for the day he becomes a wildly successful comedian:
That’s the host of the late night show around here. I’ve mentioned him. He’s actually studying standup comedy. That’s his major. Funny guy, a kind personality, he’s thoughtful and has an air of a worldly wisdom to him already. There is a pretty big handful of people I get to work with each week that you could file under “We knew them when.”
That’s pretty cool. You think about that sort of thing from time to time. And if you went back and counted, how many folks do you suppose you would have categorized that way? Quite a few, I’d bet. And more than a few prove themselves worthy of it, over time.
You don’t have to stand under klieg lights for this. Rising to some level of celebrity isn’t the measure of success here. I know a few talented veterinarians, medical professionals, lawyers, jazz musicians and hustling entrepreneurs and business executives and so on. “I knew them when.” Every now and again, you run into someone and find out about their lives and realize that makes the most sense in the world, because you knew them when. And then you find out you went to school with the one guy who became a rocket scientist, well, who would you have thought it then?
But Rob up there, I’ve got him pretty well pegged. He’s going to be doing a Holo 3D show or some such in my living room one day. And we knew him when.
I went across town for dinner tonight. I got barbecue. I listened to WIUX, the college radio station, on the way. Two undergrads, one of them I know, were calling the Big Ten basketball tournament. Undergrads calling the big men’s basketball game. I remember when my college radio station couldn’t get a real meeting to even pitch broadcasting softball. Such a great experience for the students, and a great opportunity for it provided by the athletic department here.
Also, this is going on here:
We're going inside batting practice with @Spectacles. #IUBase
👻: OurIndiana pic.twitter.com/86kkQeGByP
— Indiana Baseball (@HoosierBaseball) March 10, 2017
Finally, Don’t forget, time to change your clocks! And, no, no one cares to hear the complaints:
The traditional grumbles about falling back come from morning people. They complain because it’s dimmer out when they stir. They have a point, but here’s something important to remember: I don’t care, because I like longer evenings, and my side won. (Sticking out tongue.)
But I am not without compassion. We can reach an accommodation. We abandon the biannual switch; we never fall back again — except once, and then by 30 minutes. We split the difference, in other words. This will require the participation of the entire world, but we could stop all our clocks for 30 minutes on a Wednesday afternoon, say, and then make sure that everyone gets paid for an extra half-hour of work.
Downside: Well, I’ve read enough sci-fi to know that any babies born during that 30-minute period probably would be immortal mutants with strange powers and vast intellects, and they probably would rule the world after three decades.
Only to be thwarted by a sentient collection of ovens blinking 12:00 …
