Get your cheer on

Buckle up, elves! Tomorrow is the first-ever Red and Green Game at St. John's! Leave your black, teal and magenta t-shirts at home. Only red, green and white shirts will be allowed on the floor. Forget good guys vs. bad guys. This week it's naughty vs. nice.

All I want for Christmas is for you to tell me you'll be there tomorrow. We tip off at 8:00 a.m., as usual.

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Stuff that's on my mind this week. Is that what blogging's all about?

On my nightstand: The Prize, by Daniel Yergen. Hoping the later chapters will shed some light on this question: Why do politicians and pundits get so hot about our so-called "dependency on foreign oil" but not about our dependency on foreign toys, foreign clothing, foreign timber, foreign electronics, and foreign maple syrup? The U.S. couldn't manufacture a clock-radio on a dare, yet you don't hear politicians thunder that we need to be "microwave-oven independent by 2012." Oil is but one of countless commodities and consumer products we import to meet demand. So why the obsession? Because oil is sourced from unstable regions? Most of ours comes from Canada.

Here's the most thoughtful endorsement of any candidate I've ever read.

What's with the guys who drive the fake police cars? You know what I'm talking about. Dude driving around in a black or blue or white Crown Vic with the plain wheelcovers and the spotlight mounted by the driver's-side mirror. I saw two on the way to lunch today. Police-academy flunk-outs? Militia freaks? Or just plain old dorks?

Listen to Frank Sinatra's 1947 version of "White Christmas." Then listen to Bing Crosby's canonical version. Then listen to Elvis Presley's 1957 version. Only then can you come close to understanding what the Elvis phenomenon was about. (There was a lot of fuss about that particular song.)

Tee-hee: Kentucky is 4-5 and has lost its last 4 games. The Gophers are 7-1.

Does your watch tell you what year it is?

I don't take sides. I just report on absurdities. Here's an Alice-in-Wonderland moment from a recent White House press briefing:

Q: But when you have a former CIA officer, John Kiriakou, now saying that waterboarding was used—since you're saying the interrogations were legal; he’s saying on the record now, waterboarding was used in at least one case. You’re saying waterboarding is legal?

PRESS SECRETARY DANA PERINO: Ed, I’m saying I’m not commenting on any specific technique. I’m not commenting on that gentleman’s characteristics of any possible technique. I’ve given you a very general statement about interrogations being legal, limited and—

Q: You just said it was legal.

MS. PERINO: I’m sorry?

Q: You said it was within the legal framework.

MS. PERINO: Yes.

Q: Everything that was done.

MS. PERINO: Yes.

Q: So waterboarding is legal.

MS. PERINO: I'm not commenting on any specific techniques.

While we're having a giggle, here's a nugget from the 2000 Republican Party Platform:

The rule of law, the very foundation for a free society, has been under assault, not only by criminals from the ground up, but also from the top down. An administration that lives by evasion, coverup, stonewalling, and duplicity has given us a totally discredited Department of Justice. The credibility of those who now manage the nation's top law enforcement agency is tragically eroded. We are fortunate to have its dedicated career workforce, especially its criminal prosecutors, who have faced the unprecedented politicization of decisions regarding both personnel and investigations...

Oh, don't worry. When the other guys win I'll be all over them.

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Please let me know if you will or will not be playing hoops at St. John's on Saturday. We tip off at 8:00 a.m., as usual.

Best if used by...

I have two friends—they're both on the mailing list—with opposing views on what constitutes "spoiled" food. If one awoke to find he'd left the milk on the counter all night he would simply put it back in the refrigerator. The other would dump the milk out and probably toss the eggs and the mayonnaise just to be safe.

The pork fried rice I ate for lunch sat out all day yesterday, so you can guess which school of thought I come from. I had occasion to reconsider my position when shortly after lunch I became, er, indisposed for a time. But the storm blew over quickly and I stand by my opinion that sell-by dates are merely a suggestion.

This day started with a reference to someone ingesting, or trying to ingest, something indescribable. Though I refused to take the gross-out bait a friend was dangling it did take me back to a seventh-grade summer's day when my friend Kenny and I decided to see what kind of strange brew would result from putting a little of everything in the kitchen into the blender. (Seventh grade: Too old for day care, too young for a summer job.) In went a dribble of every liquid, a pinch of every spice, a dollop of every colloid. After a brief standoff over the pitcher Kenny gamely took the first swig.

I captured the exact peak of the pharyngeal reflex with my Instamatic before Kenny spewed the liquid into the sink. I lost touch with Kenny years ago but I still treasure that snapshot. My own attempt ended the same way, and years later I can vividly recall the feeling of the little man who guards my stomach saying, "Uh-uh, not down here!" and ordering everything back. I have always felt it was the Liquid Smoke that put the whole concoction over the top. Perhaps it was expired.

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How's your shelf life? Haven't heard from several players for a while. (Dale? Unruh? Peter?) If you've still got the mojo come out to St. John's for hoops tomorrow. We tip off at 8:00 a.m., as usual. Please let me know if you will or will not be there.