Sorry for the too-long delay in posting, Chatterheads. Let’s see if I can come up with some lame excuses. First, we had wonderful Grandaughter #1 stay with us for the week, Robin, the artist formerly known as Lianna. Her folks and sibs were at the shore for a week and she hates it there. So we were happy to let her crash here, to put it mildly. Remember what it’s like having a teen in the house? I asked OC-friend Chris B and he said “Extensive therapy has helped me remove most of those memories.” (I wonder if he meant “expensive.” They both work.) It was actually a total pleasure having her stay, but between cooking her favorites and driving her, boyfriend Diegan, and their friends around, it was more activities than we’re used to. (Our regular average activity-level hovers close to zero.) Then I got sick towards the end of the week. Nothing serious, just a bad cold. Although I still have no feeling on my left side and am coughing up a lot of blood. That’s normal, right? Last, I’ve been pouring more creative energy into my comments for Rex’s blog, and that can be draining some days. But enough of all that! Back to work!

One of our favorite Kooser poems was featured in The Writer’s Almanac a few days ago! It’s not from Winter Morning Walks. And I must confess that, as many times as I’ve read it, the last time left me close to tears. It’s called “Splitting an Order.” It’s from a collection of his with the same title.

I like to watch an old man cutting a sandwich in half,
maybe an ordinary cold roast beef on whole wheat bread,
no pickles or onion, keeping his shaky hands steady
by placing his forearms firm on the edge of the table
and using both hands, the left to hold the sandwich in place,
and the right to cut it surely, corner to corner,
observing his progress through glasses that moments before
he wiped with his napkin, and then to see him lift half
onto the extra plate that he had asked the server to bring,
and then to wait, offering the plate to his wife
while she slowly unrolls her napkin and places her spoon,
her knife and her fork in their proper places,
then smoothes the starched white napkin over her knees
and meets his eyes and holds out both old hands to him.

---

Two answers in today’s puzzle were SO THERE (“And that’s that!”) and MIMOSA (“Boozy brunch drink”). Here’s what I came up with:

Drunk, announcing his arrival: SOTHERE

Speaking of drunks, at the Cooperstown (NY) Tavern you can order a Minnie MIMOSA, honoring the great Cuban ballplayer, Minnie Minoso, inducted into the Hall of Fame in 2022.

But you know who is not in the HOF? Tommy John, who passed away this week in surgery that was, ironically, not Tommy John surgery. (That was a cheap joke: he did pass away, but from bladder cancer, not in surgery.) TJ won 288 games and had an impressive lifetime ERA of 3.34, but was dissed as a “compiler,” and not a dominant pitcher of any era. Yet from 1977-80 he averaged 20 wins and under 9 losses a season. In ten seasons he had an ERA less than 3.00, and in 1968 it was 1.98 (in 177 innings). I’d put him in the Hall, but what do I know? His obit in the NYT ends by noting that Tommy John surgery might have added years to Sandy Koufax’s career had it been developed earlier. Koufax teased the surgeon, Dr. Jobe, about that, noting it could have been called Sandy Koufax surgery.

John was the valedictorian of his HS graduating class (1961), but was not allowed to make a speech because he was a stutterer. I had stutterers in my classes at Hunter from time to time. I was always very patient with them, as were their classmates, and I was impressed with the courage it must have taken for them to raise their hands to speak. I had more than a few memorable moments in my classrooms, over the years, and those were among them. TJ, of course, went on to overcome his stuttering and became a baseball announcer and motivational speaker after his playing career ended. And, get this, the high school invited him back fifty years after his graduation to make the speech! The then-officials in charge of the school learned about the earlier snub and wanted to make things right. John was moved to tears by the gesture.

Rest in peace, Tommy.

If Tommy John were in the Hall, he’d be only the second player whose last name was also the first name of another member. (There are a bunch of John Somethings in the Hall.) So who is the only player currently in the Hall, whose last name is another member’s first name? (Answer below.)

---

If you follow historian Heather Cox Richardson’s newsletters, you know there’s a never-ending gush of horrifying stuff going on. A deluge doing terrible damage to America: so much more than makes the regular news outlets like the NYT. Every fucking day. Here’s just a little snippet that caught my eye recently. Hardly worth mentioning.

Federal officials said a third immigrant detained at New Jersey’s Delaney Hall died. They said Jose Chajon-Raxon experienced a medical emergency on July 19 and died in the hospital. As part of a new policy to stop reporting the deaths of detainees released from federal custody, DHS said Chajon-Raxon had been “released from ICE custody on July 22.”

Yup. He was released. They got that right.

Here’s what a grave threat to America looks like. Rest in peace, Jose.

---

Linda and I attended the Gnats-Mets game at Shea yesterday. We brought our own lunch (allowed now in many stadiums, albeit not Detroit) and the Mets bought me a beer, with a $10 credit per ticket! Burp. Thanks Mets! I opted for a cold Montauk IPA. It wasn’t very memorable as beers go, but I’m not going to look that gift beer horse in the mouth. Nor was the game very memorable, though it was fine. DC squandered a small early lead and couldn’t get it up to mount much of a comeback, falling 4-3. But the weather held up, the trains were all fine, and we enjoyed the scene. A nice day at the ballpark. On the ride home I was reminded of this joke Riverdale Joe told me a while ago.

A man needs to get to Minsk but has no money for a ticket. He gets on the train and when the conductor asks for his ticket he explains that he has no money and no ticket. So at the next stop, he’s thrown out on his ass. He waits a few hours for the next train and gets on that one. Again, when the conductor asks for his ticket he explains that he has no money and no ticket. And, again, at the following stop he’s thrown out on his ass.

He waits there several more hours until the next train arrives where the scene is repeated and he’s thrown out on his ass yet again.

As he’s sitting and waiting at the fourth station, a man sitting next to him strikes up a conversation. “Where are you headed?” he’s asked. “Minsk,” he replies. “If my ass holds up.”

---

In today’s puzzle, “Well-dressed guy” was the clue for DAPPER DAN. Rex was reminded of “handsome Dan” from Bruce’s great song “Tougher Than The Rest.” He shared this gorgeous version by Everything But The Girl. I’m following it up with Bruce doing it, because, well, you’ll see.

---

Linda and me on the train home from the game yesterday.

Conductor: The next station is Orange.

Linda: Why do we care if it’s orange?

Me: That’s right! That means nothing to us. What’s the stop after that — strawberry? Are we on the wrong train? Are we in Candyland?

---

I’m going to close with a long comment I posted on Rex’s blog anent last Saturday’s NYTXW. I was working with the following: “Hoedown get-down?” TEXAS TWO STEP; “French Baroque artist Nicolas” POUSSIN; “Complain” CARP; “Cut out the middleman, for delivery” DROPSHIP; “Certain tenant” ROOMER; “Citation shortener” ET AL; “Classic 1926 novel often published with a bull and matador on its cover” THE SUN ALSO RISES; “Upper regions of forests” TREE CANOPIES; and “Charybdis’ man-eating opposite, in myth” SCYLLA.

Okay — here we go —

TEXAS TWO STEP: Detain, deport.

Not only was the French Baroque artist Nicolas POUSSIN an accomplished painter, he also designed elegant footwear. Frenchmen of his day enjoyed strolling the avenues in his POUSSIN boots. (Hi, egs!)

Some people CARP just for the halibut.

DROPSHIP: I know what it means to “drop anchor.” Seems a little extreme to DROP the entire SHIP, no?

Have you seen the spare key to the apartment? Rumor has it the ROOMER has it.

Brutus: Julie, I’m making up a list of assassins, oops, I mean friends – forget I said that. But it’s getting too long. What is that thing you add at the end that means “and others?”
Caesar: “ET AL, Brutè?”

In a Cheers episode, Diane brings a valuable first edition of THE SUN ALSO RISES to the bar and shows it off to the others. Sam glances at the title and scoffs, “Well, that’s profound.” He ends up convincing her to let him take it home to read. He decides to relax in a hot bath with the book. Of course, he drops it into the water, and returns it the next day all bloated and curled. (Hilarity ensues.)

TREECANOPIES: Not to be confused with “free canapès.” That what we sharpen our elbows for at the buffets.

I received a gift of some cookies long ago, in the shape of little people. They were delicious, and I ate them by biting off the little heads first. I was reminded of that when watching The Odyssey last week. That’s exactly the same approach SCYLLA took with O’s men!

---

See you next time, Chatterheads! Thanks for popping in.

(Steve Carlton. Carlton Fisk.)