JACKSONVILLE, Fla. -- If I had a dog -- which I do, but I mean if I had a dog with me, right now, down here -- I would say to him, "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore." Or rather, "Toto, we're not at the Rose Bowl anymore." That's assuming his name was Toto, of course. And that he remembered the Rose Bowl. I remember the Rose Bowl. In fact, this morning I remember the Rose Bowl the way I remember my first girlfriend. I miss it desperately. I want it back in my arms.
I hear voices. I open my door. Look who's on my porch, singing Christmas Carols . . . * George Foreman: "The Christmas Song" Chestnuts roasting on an open fireWhipped cream hanging from my nosePumpkin pies and a burger or twoAnd milk shakes, fries, and Cheerios,Everybody knows, a turkey and some Pizza HutThey enable me to punchWhen Holyfield drops, I'll eat Tootsie Pops,And wait for Tyson, hey, where's my lunch?* Sergei Fedorov: "Winter Wonderland"Sleigh bells ring, I am scoringIn the room, I am snoring
I never understood the fuss over Madonna, since she is hardly the first woman to try and rip off Marilyn Monroe.But I have to hand it to her. She has turned the American public into the world's biggest sap.First she films an erotic music video. Then MTV refuses to show it. So Madonna goes on ABC's "Nightline" to protest censorship. As part of the program, the entire video is shown.And now it sets a record for copies shipped. Fans can't wait to buy it.
He entered the room with his heart already broken, yet he forced a smile; he greeted the reporters, told them thanks for coming. A gentleman does not forget his manners, no matter how much dirt is thrown at him. This has always been the quality that separates Ernie Harwell from the dim bulbs in baseball. And so he squeezed his lip when it began to quiver Wednesday morning, and he squinted into the lights of this, his first and only news conference in 72 years on this planet.
Stop the season. Right now. On a high note. Quick, somebody, knock me out and let me sleep until next September. After all, isn't this what we dream about? Rodney Peete throwing touchdown bombs? The defense sacking the quarterback? A near-sellout crowd making airplane noise as the Lions dance on the Silverdome turf? A happy ending? Isn't that what we dream about? Stop the season. Quick, somebody get me a hammer."But what about the record?" says the voice of reason. "What about the Lions' losing record? After all, this just makes five wins against nine losses."
Mitch Albom writes about running an orphanage in impoverished Port-au-Prince, Haiti, his kids, their hardships, laughs and challenges, and the life lessons he’s learned there every day.
