The Lincoln Blogs
Someone once asked Abe Lincoln how long his legs were and he famously replied, “Long enough to touch the floor.” What a wiseass.
I wonder if he ended up with really poorly fitting pants. I hope so. I hope his calves were showing. Jerk.
Not that I would wish his ultimate fate on any man. Who wants to go to the theater and get shot in the head? One or the other maybe, but not both.
But if it has to be both, I suppose it really does need to be in that order. Who wants to go to the theater after being shot in the head? I mean, it’d have to be a really good show, right?
What’s this have to with volleyball, you ask? Well, I’ll be coming to that, eventually.
Lincoln. They put the guy on the penny! Man, talk about disrespect. Better to not have a coin at all than to be on the penny. But that’s what you get when you’re a wiseass.
I can see the guy in a restaurant.
“What can I getcha, Abe?”
“Depends on if you have a wagon or not.”
“Pardon?”
“You could get me a lot of stuff, if you had a wagon.”
Jerk.
What’s this have to do with volleyball, you ask again? Oh, you’ll see.
Kind of an ugly guy, that Lincoln. But people were uglier back then. Shorter, too, although Lincoln was supposedly eight-foot-three. Maybe I don’t have that exactly right, but I do recall that he was seen as a real freak in his day. Ugly and tall. And ruder than an old cuss with a boil on his butt.
How’d he get elected one might wonder. Well, no TV. Really good attack ads in the papers. Plus his opponent – Dewey, I think – was a squirrel.
“Who ya voting for?”
“Think I’m going to vote for the ugly giant with the bad-fitting pants.”
“But he’s so RUDE!”
“True. But I just can’t see voting for a squirrel.”
(That was another conversation from the diner, by the way. Case you were wondering.)
So, what does this have to do with volleyball!? Dammit!
You settle for things in Life. Sometimes rally-score – to 25! – is better than the alternative. Sometimes you just can't bring yourself to vote for the squirrel. Sometimes, although this is rare, one can even have a pleasant time at the theater. You don’t want to have to sit through Cats or be shot in the head, of course, but you might just find yourself entertained.
That’s what I’m hoping for this season – a little entertainment, no assassins.
I wonder if he ended up with really poorly fitting pants. I hope so. I hope his calves were showing. Jerk.
Not that I would wish his ultimate fate on any man. Who wants to go to the theater and get shot in the head? One or the other maybe, but not both.
But if it has to be both, I suppose it really does need to be in that order. Who wants to go to the theater after being shot in the head? I mean, it’d have to be a really good show, right?
What’s this have to with volleyball, you ask? Well, I’ll be coming to that, eventually.
Lincoln. They put the guy on the penny! Man, talk about disrespect. Better to not have a coin at all than to be on the penny. But that’s what you get when you’re a wiseass.
I can see the guy in a restaurant.
“What can I getcha, Abe?”
“Depends on if you have a wagon or not.”
“Pardon?”
“You could get me a lot of stuff, if you had a wagon.”
Jerk.
What’s this have to do with volleyball, you ask again? Oh, you’ll see.
Kind of an ugly guy, that Lincoln. But people were uglier back then. Shorter, too, although Lincoln was supposedly eight-foot-three. Maybe I don’t have that exactly right, but I do recall that he was seen as a real freak in his day. Ugly and tall. And ruder than an old cuss with a boil on his butt.
How’d he get elected one might wonder. Well, no TV. Really good attack ads in the papers. Plus his opponent – Dewey, I think – was a squirrel.
“Who ya voting for?”
“Think I’m going to vote for the ugly giant with the bad-fitting pants.”
“But he’s so RUDE!”
“True. But I just can’t see voting for a squirrel.”
(That was another conversation from the diner, by the way. Case you were wondering.)
So, what does this have to do with volleyball!? Dammit!
You settle for things in Life. Sometimes rally-score – to 25! – is better than the alternative. Sometimes you just can't bring yourself to vote for the squirrel. Sometimes, although this is rare, one can even have a pleasant time at the theater. You don’t want to have to sit through Cats or be shot in the head, of course, but you might just find yourself entertained.
That’s what I’m hoping for this season – a little entertainment, no assassins.
Labels: Lincoln
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2:10 PM
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