Labron James makes much ballyhooed anouncement on which organization he will work for, continuing to bounce a ball on a wood floor and throw it through a metal hoop to the adoration of millions. Don't Care. Not that I'm bothered by fame per se. I love Lady Gaga and she's a fame monster.
What other grumbly points can I make. Oh yes, I almost forgot. In the ongoing attempt for all enlightened Americans to outdo each other in showing the most self-deprecation, the Bay area is aflame with passion for the World Cup. Who gives a damn? Uruguay? I don't even know if I pronounced it right, and you know what, who cares? Uruguay? Yes it's vitally important that we all hang on the edge of our seats to see this world power at their finest hour (actually I think they lost). Interestingly, when I show a little American nationalism amongst my European friends here in Palo Alto, they seem strangely, ironically, to appreciate it. It's almost like everyone is thinking: "Americans, get some cojones! The world's superpower and your educated elite are tripping over themselves to appear embarrased by your success, and desperately trying to convince us that you're okay because you love watching Uruguay kick a ball around, clapping so loudly you make yourself look silly. We wouldn't do that, says the French man, smiling. We love France. Suckers!")
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