The air is full of activity this morning despite mid-July humidity and the threat of afternoon thunder bolts. Our President who usually has a youthful skip to his step reportedly lumbered out of his own meeting last night, deflated. Balls are in the air at The Open championships as we speak and that US women’s soccer team corner kick yesterday seemed to hang up in the sky for an hour or so just waiting for Abby Wambach’s forehead to project it into France’s goal. Meanwhile, Boeing’s long delayed 787 Dreamliner is ready to fly real passengers next month and the debate rages forward on the sky-high $ 100 biillion valuation of Facebook , both according to the WSJ.
Back over at the NY Times, I am glad to see they are following my little blog. Who could forget last Monday when I asked spousal permission to put Megan Rapinoe’s poster on my wall, and today the Times puts her picture on the front cover. I also asked if anybody cared about Tim Pawlenty and his state being shut down (the answer was no), and today the Times just coincidentally I know reports on this great embarrassment.
On the subject of out of thin air, the luck of Christian Lopez, the man who caught Derek Jeter’s 3,000th hit and returned it to the Yankee slugger for free foregoing hundreds of thousands of dollars, took a turn for the better. Good for him. Not so for our new favorite whooping boy, Rupert Murdoch, who is falling like a rock down a cliff with no end in sight. It is tough being a media baron these days, just ask the Sulzbergers (though give credit where it is due, reports have the NYT paying off a loan to the famous big man, Carlos Slim, three-and-half years early).
I eagerly await JP Morgan’s earning this morning, but don’t want to change the channel from the riveting excitement of the opening round golf. My wife may change it to the “Today” show if I keep blogging. Oops, she just did. No respect for my multi-tasking.
OK, maybe that is a sign to get some breakfast and lead a takeover of the TV clicker. Don’t listen to any hot air today and stay light on your feet. Until tomorrow…
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