I'm Lovin' It

"How do they do it?" I thought to myself as I stood waiting at the counter at McDonald?s an hour ago. "How can they sell a McChicken for a buck?"

Of course, there's very little resembling chicken in my favorite fast-food sandwich. That's got to help. And it's clear the employees no longer "love to see me smile." Ditching that whole campaign probably shaves a few pennies here and there.

And then, as I idly watched my McChicken patty make its way down the assembly line, out of the depyrogenation chamber and into the flavor bath, my eye fell to a clipboard resting on the counter.

"The 12th and 14th positions may be switched as sales activity dictates," the manager?s cheat sheet proclaimed in bold type. I took a closer look and saw a page from Mickey D's lunch-rush playbook that would make Krzyzewski proud. Two covering the Fry Station at all times. Three on Prep. At least two on the Initiation Station. Trap in the Corners. Don't cut to the McFlurry machine if there's a man in the Post. Send the customer Baseline and wait for Backside Help.

You know what I like about hoops at St. John's? It's that everyone, to a man, can play either the 12th or 14th positions. Dribble, shoot, pass, rebound, shoot some more -- everybody equally capable of highlight-reel heroics and hardwood faux pas with never a danger of resentment or ridicule. Just a feeling of pure enjoyment at the ability to serve it up hot and delicious, week after week.

It's "Order up!" again tonight at 6:30 p.m., as usual. Let me know if you will or will not be playing . . . and if you'd like fries with that.

P.S. I did receive a reply to my note to FoxNews.com last week. "We were heartened to hear that the new site navigation made it easier for users to traverse Foxnews.com," they wrote, "and find sections previously undiscovered by many of our readers." Indeed it did. I found a whole new section called CNN.com.

We Report, You Deride

Dear FoxNews.com:

Are you serious with your new site design? I checked the calendar to see it was April 1st. This may be the worst web site I've ever seen from a company that's not selling imitation Viagra or off-shore betting.

Holy cow. I don't know whether your in-house talent is just that bad or you got sold a bill of goods by some web site consultancy, but your new design puts you on the fast track to online irrelevance. This is one visitor who won't be coming back.

Steve Yaeger
South St. Paul, Minn.
spy@usinternet.com

---

Let's see . . . what else is on my mind today? Oh, I enjoyed this, from IRS form 2553 (Rev. 12-2002):

For Paperwork Reduction Act Notice, see page 4 of the instructions.

Isn't that priceless? Right up there with "Caution: Contents hot when heated."

Speaking of heated, was it a sweatbox at St. John's last week or what? Nevertheless, what a great night of hoops. Can we repeat this week? Let me know if you will or will not be playing tonight. We tip off -- or at least some of us do -- at 6:30 p.m.

Mourning in America

The NCAA tournament didn't really grab my attention until 1982, and even then not until 5 seconds to go in the title game (Freddy Brown's errant pass to James Worthy). I have a newspaper, though, from the day after the 1981 championship recounting -- on page 3 of the sports section -- Indiana's victory over North Carolina.

I saved the paper for its front-page headline: REAGAN SHOT. I thought about how ashen my seventh-grade teacher looked as he told about the assassination attempt that day, and I remembered there had been some question at the time about whether to proceed with the game that night. Looking into it I found one account that tells the story better than I could. As with many stories involving Reagan, it ends with a perfect little quip from the President. R.I.P.

Our game will go on tonight, at 6:30 p.m., as usual. Please let me know if you WILL or WILL not be playing.

The Screenplay

ST. JOHN'S HOOPS: A SHORT FILM
2 Jun 2004

PROLOGUE

OFFICE - MID-DAY - SOUND OF TYPING

Camera pans across misc. office equipment, paraphernalia, books, etc., alights on PC screen, over right shoulder of man's back. Rest of office out of focus. Man types at keyboard. Now, as the camera moves slowly towards the screen, words come into view:

...tonight at 6:30 p.m., as usual. Please let me
know if you WILL or WILL NOT be there

Author signs name and a mysterious postscript:

Steve

Last week's attendance: 11

Man rests hands on lap, leans back in chair, sighs, takes a long draw on a bottle of beer.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. ST. JOHN'S EV. LUTH. CHURCH/SCHOOL GYMNASIUM - DARK

JIM opens the door throwing shaft of light across maple floor, revealing lines of basketball court. Walks through door, gym bag over shoulder, clicks light banks on one by one, sits on end of bleacher as fluorescent lights slowly come up. As Jim slowly pulls shoes, shirt, etc. out of bag DAN enters.

DAN: Hey.

JIM: Hey. What's up?

Dan and Jim dress in silence as one, two minutes pass. MATT M. enters.

JIM: Hey.

MATT M.: Hey. What's up?

Dan warms ups, light stretching, light shooting. Jim fetches dustmop, begins cleaning floor. MATT M. changes shirt in front of bleachers. JEFF enters.

MATT: Hey.

JEFF (quietly, not making eye contact): Hey. What's up?

MATT M.: Not much. You?

JEFF (quietly, smiling now): Not much.

Matt and Jeff join Dan on floor. TONY and MATT E. enter.

TONY (loudly): Yo!

DAN, MATT M.: YO!

STEVE A., BRYAN, ANDREW enter.

BRYAN: Hey.

STEVE A. nods.

ANDREW: [low guttural sound]

TONY: Anyone seen Ian lately?

DAN (still shooting): No. Not for a long time.

TONY (to no one in particular): Is Yaeger coming?

JIM (still mopping): I think so. I thought he was.

More PLAYERS enter, dress. After five minutes, DAN calls for team selection.

DAN (loudly): Let's shoot 'em up!

Everyone gathers single-file at free-throw line, begins ritualistic shoot-to-play ritual. Some players begin changing shirts to form one white- and one dark-shirted team, four players each. Some players sit on bleachers. Play commences. After twenty minutes, STEVE Y. enters.

TONY (while playing): Hey! Glad you could make it!

DAN (to STEVE Y. while making 20-foot bank shot): [something unintelligible]

STEVE Y. slowly dresses, continues dressing after game begins. Players wait while STEVE Y. adjusts socks, ankle braces, knee brace, goggles, head band, wrist band. Play resumes.

Forty-five minutes later, SCOTT enters. Play continues for 30-40 more minutes. Scene abruptly shifts to

INT. THE GREAT HALL - XANADU

GIRL: What about Rosebud? Don't you think that explains anything?

THOMPSON: No, I don't. Not much anyway. Charles Foster Kane was a man who got everything he wanted, and then lost it. Maybe Rosebud was something he couldn't get or lost. No, I don't think it explains anything. I don't think any word explains a man's life. No -- I guess Rosebud is just a piece in a jigsaw puzzle -- a missing piece.

He drops the jigsaw pieces back into the box, looking at his watch.

THOMPSON: We'd better get along. We'll miss the train.

He picks up his overcoat -- it has been resting on a little sled -- the little sled young Charles Foster Kane hit Thatcher with at the opening of the picture. Camera doesn't close in on this. It just registers the sled as the newspaper people, picking up their clothes and equipment, move out of the great hall.

DISSOLVE:

INT. CELLAR - XANADU - NIGHT - 1940

A large furnace, with an open door, dominates the scene. Two laborers, with shovels, are shovelling things into the furnace. Raymond is about ten feet away.

RAYMOND: Throw that junk in, too.

Camera travels to the pile that he has indicated. It is mostly bits of broken packing cases, excelsior, etc. The sled is on top of the pile. As camera comes close, it shows the faded rosebud and, though the letters are faded, unmistakably the word "ROSEBUD" across it. The laborer drops his shovel, takes the sled in his hand and throws it into the furnace. The flames start to devour it.

FADE OUT:

THE END