A Little of This, A Little of That
Let’s shake things up today. This week, instead of my usual deep dive into one topic, I’ve got a little to say about a lot. We’re going to be all over the place. No rules!
Could I have been a bigger mush? Last week, before the ink on McVeighing In had even dried, I managed to jinx St. John’s into a brutal loss against Villanova. For a moment, I thought I’d find an angry mob outside my house, torches and pitchforks in hand. And I can only assume that avid Rockaway Times reader Rick Pitino (a logical assumption, of course) was ready to track me down.
Fortunately, the Johnnies bailed me out with a fantastic win over Creighton at Madison Square Garden on Sunday. Let’s keep it rolling straight through March!
Happy belated Presidents’ Day! Or actually — scratch that. What I meant to say was Happy George Washington’s Birthday! … which, admittedly, doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.
I recently learned that “Presidents’ Day” isn’t actually a thing. Since 1778, Americans have informally celebrated Washington’s birthday on February 22. It became an official federal holiday in 1789, and in 1968, Congress moved the observance to the third Monday in February — because nothing says honoring the Father of Our Country like ensuring a three-day weekend.
But let’s be honest: not every one of our 45 presidents (counting Cleveland and Trump only once) deserves a holiday. I’m sure we all agree that our last two totally uncontroversial presidents should be honored, but does John Tyler — a guy who later served as a congressman for the Confederate States of America — really belong in the same breath as Washington, Jefferson, or Lincoln?
The only thing “Presidents’ Day” really has going for it is a better name. But while mattress stores and car dealerships may continue their holiday sales, I won’t be joining them. So, Happy George Washington’s Birthday!
Do you hear that? Listen closely.
Exactly — nothing.
That’s because every year during February break, Rockaway turns into a ghost town. I swear I just saw a tumbleweed roll down Rockaway Beach Blvd.
It won’t be long before everyone returns — some sunburnt, a lucky few actually tan — ready to tell us how we “didn’t miss much” and that Florida “wasn’t even that hot. I had to wear a sweatshirt at night.”
Until then, we, the few, the proud, the frozen, will keep the lights on.
Eggs, huh? You’d think after everything we endured during the pandemic, a shortage here or there wouldn’t faze us. But eggs? That’s a bridge too far. They’re in nearly everything we eat — not to mention a breakfast staple. Rockaway runs on bacon, egg and cheeses.
Thanks to bird flu sweeping across the U.S., millions of chickens have been euthanized. This drastic drop in supply, combined with the aforementioned ever-present demand, has sent egg prices soaring.
While none of this is particularly funny, a recent report on a morning news show highlighted an interesting twist — despite the high prices, egg sales have actually increased. Why? One theory is that people are worried the supply will continue to fall so they are panic buying. But I have a different theory: people keep hearing about eggs … and now they’re craving eggs. When you really think about it, we’re very simple creatures at heart.
Not too bad, right? It’s good to shake things up once in a while. Don’t worry — next week, we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming.
