By Woody Hemphill While we were all having fun over Memorial Day weekend, the folks up in Indianapolis decided it would be a good time to host the Indy 500 - for the 101st time. As it turns (little racing humor – very little), the dude that won was Japanese. This is noteworthy because no Japanese person had ever won the race in history. Amazing that a country as steeped in the automotive industry and motorsports had never been winners at this race. In addition to this feat was the winning of ‘the Poconos’ by the youngest dude to win a NASCAR race, Ryan Blaney, the first to be born after 1993, or later. Now for some of y’all this dude may be considered a peer – but others of us just felt old, really old when he crossed the finish line looking like he just got his license. . . There’s a definite feeling of mortality when you start seeing people that were born after you’d finished high school start accomplishing noteworthy things with their lives. It’s like when you are driving in your car and hear a song from your college years played on the radio. As you’re jamming along to the tune, you realize that your station is tuned to the Classic Rock station. . . and you just got another not-so-subtle reminder – a speed bump from the cosmos of your vitality. In other news, Phil Mickelson is deciding upon attending his daughter’s high school graduation, or to try and choke in the US Open another year. This guy is Real-Life Shooter McGavin (from Happy Gilmore fame) in my book. Oddly, he was reported to have allegedly done some Martha Stewart-level insider trading and it appeared the façade may finally be crumbling before slipping into another green jacket a few years back. Speaking of feeling old, I recall he and Tiger dueling as amateurs when Phil attended Arizona State, and Tiger attended Stanford. As a guy who’s gone above and beyond to reach every eligible milestone throughout his career, Tiger sure ‘fell off the edge of the world’ when his wife left him that Thanksgiving Day in Florida. His latest rite of passage in the clichéd Former Elite Athlete Hall of Shame was a DUI arrest, allegedly for pills. This incident found him asleep behind the wheel at a Jupiter, FL red light in his wrecked car with damages to the front – AND rear - of the vehicle. Finally, after a formulaic season with about as much suspense as a ‘Growing Pains’ marathon, the NBA season wrapped up with the Golden State Warriors prevailing over the Cleveland Cavaliers in 5 games. After LeBron ‘took his talents to South Beach’ (a term that since has come to announce one is ‘ready to go #2’), the cosmos proved that karma is indeed a fickle, cantankerous, enigmatic, schizophrenic, at best. Last season’s runners-up found that the way to get past LeBron and Co. was to sign the next best player in the league. It serves him right for ruining the game with his generic vanilla branding and his millennial viewpoints of teambuilding. I think I speak for many when I say that choosing a team to root for between these two was like scheduling a root canal and colonoscopy on the same day – with the same doctor. . . Anyway, until next month, be a good sport – and may all your teams win! The Vinegar Diaries Part II Diary of a Vinegar Guinea Pig Not only does this natural cure-all do all of the above described, but it is a non-toxic cleaning spray (eek!!), it can reduce dandruff and clear away greasy build-up in your hair, helps clear up acne, provides sunburn relief (hey Sara Bear Fisk – heads up hippy chick), is a natural deodorant, ends bladder infections, reduces blood glucose, cures toenail fungus, cures acid reflux, reduces leg and By Alaina Loughridge foot cramps, helps with allergies as well as varicose veins, and apparently is the best thing ever. Huh. In addition, it is also excellent for your dog and/or cat, ridding them of fleas and giving them a nice, shiny coat. I am delighted that I will be flea (God knows that there will be no more entries in this diary) free soon. Continued from the June 2017 Beachcomber 04/20/17 cont: I have a small salad for lunch. I cheat by dipping every other bite in blue cheese dressing, but feel justified in doing so because I had porridge for breakfast. After lunch I take my tonic by pinching my nostrils closed and rapidly sipping it down my gullet. Dinner is small and made of green things. I drink my vinegar and go straight to bed before I cave and call Breezy to bring me a case of Snickers. 04/21/17: I am feeling pretty good about myself and my ability to do this. I have my porridge for breakfast, followed by a sipping session of vinegar. Lunch is a small salad with oil and vinegar dressing and I want to call my doctor and tell her what a good girl I am. Dinner is greenish and small. I down my vinegar in my haste to get away from the refrigerator. It does not taste better, but I believe I am gaining a tolerance for it. I weigh in: I have lost ONE pound!!! Go me!! I have also started smoking more, but hey. Whatevs. Every victory is important and should not be crushed by the failures that are happening simultaneously (seriously a good quote for the month there). 04/22/17: Porridge for breakfast followed by a crying jag. Lunch is equally miserable and I take my vinegar portions with a growing hatred for this damn diet and my stupidity for signing up to be a guinea pig. Dinner is at Sundae Café, as friends are in town and I am freaking hangry and my control is out. I got into a fork battle over chocolate pie with David and Betsy and I won because my desperation was greater than theirs. I took my tonic with a grimace and went to bed unhappy with myself for eating pie. 04/23/17: Porridge for breakfast. Salad for lunch. Boring bits for dinner. Unhappiness is flowing out of me as I take my daily doses. I literally run from the refrigerator. I weigh in: I have lost ZERO pounds. I go to bed and stuff the corner end of the pillow casing in my mouth like a pacifier. 04/24/17: Same old same old. I feel better, but I am almost positive it is a placebo effect. I’m ok with that. Also, my hair is looking rather shiny and I do not have fleas. I am emotionally pleased, but my body wants chocolate and wine and Fireball and not in that order. 04/25/17: Blah, blah, blah. I do feel better. I really do, but my brain is creating images that are too much. I want a double bacon cheeseburger with an onion ring and bbq sauce on it with LTO and I want extra fries with ranch dressing from Spanky’s on the side for dipping. I am starting to shake when I pour my vinegar allotment out. 04/26/17: I wake up with tears on my cheeks and I know why. I want FOOD of all colors shapes and sizes. I will drink a bottle of vinegar after - I promise! I still manage to choke down my porridge with my eyes closed. I take my dose and try to regain the pride of just a day or two ago. My attention wanders (my span ain’t what it used to be). There is a knock on the door. I eye my lunch salad with disdain and go answer the door. It is my entire ‘hood squad. Joy has chocolate pie, Mark has a cheeseburger, Belinda and Taylor have Spanky’s ranch sauce. - What was I writing about again …? TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | JULY 2017 7
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