And the chaser :
and now my humble, but hot take.. :
I am so pissed off I can’t re-blog this, I decided to boost it. #JerseyStyle.
Hat tip to X Ray Burns. New Jersey is the center of the universe, now if I could just get some of those Jersey Kaiser rolls…….
There is nothing quite like failing a Figure Skating test at the age of 31 that catapults one back to being the last picked for kickball.
Despite getting ballet lessons when I asked for figure skating as a child, I decided at 31 I was not dead, it was never too late and off I went, “the beginning of me.”
Group lessons gave way to private, and ice dancing became my passion when I had a lesson with a visiting coach from Russia. “Why you so clumsy,” he queried upon delivering me back to coach Marie.
I practiced the Dutch Waltz doggedly for my upcoming test. The only thing I remember of that debacle was my coach not looking at me and me forgetting the steps.
Crushed but undaunted, I shook it off and made a whole new plan for the next one. Take two tests, that way if I failed again, I had a shot ten minutes later to pass the other. I had a competition dress made and formed a life long bond with Marie my coach, but none of this helped my anxiety.
The day before the test, Marie said, “As your friend, I am telling you, you do not have to do this. Nothing is worth putting yourself through this.”
But I refused to bail, not after she and I had become so close and she had worked so hard, but I was a mess, just like the time before.
On test day, I donned my new skating frock, and lucky bra; I applied my make up, did my hair and threw up before setting off to the rink and another failure. As I pulled out of my driveway, this song came on the radio and it all melted away in the first strains of that song.
When I got there, I told Marie, “Just look at me, look at me when you put me on the ice, I need you to keep looking at me.” My test partner was another coach and I wasn’t even aware of him at that point I just locked onto her eyes and held her gaze. I craned my head to see her as I skated away to redemption. I ask you now, whom do you really think I was skating with that day?
My quest for a perfect paoched egg took me to the Food Network, on Alton Brown’s page. What could go wrong?
Amazingly, I had all the requisite ingredients. Just don’t tell anyone these two items are on hand as cleaning supplies.
It worked!! I sprinked bacon on it, because BACON.
Oh no you don’t!!!
Oh, okay, FINE!!
Five months ago The Jim and Mickey Show debuted and I haven’t been the same since… “Here’s the thing” is their signature phrase and the three little words I can’t wait to hear all week.
National Review’s Jim Geraghty and Conservative Broadcast veteran Mickey White teamed up and started a weekly radio show that is essentially, “We’re conservative, so what?”
If Seinfeld was a TV show about nothing, The Jim and Mickey Show is a show about everything.
“We’re conservative, so what?”
They speak about pop culture, movies, TV, Football (I capitalize football because if you love Jim and Mickey football is Football), holidays, Halloween (see Football), sex, politics, television and general everything, ‘stuff’.
They are the Tracy and Hepburn of talk radio, the unmarried Burns and Allen who work so well, likely because they are not.
She is my Taylor Swift and has eyebrows to die for. He is my Jerry Seinfeld. Geraghty’s droll wit usually leads to, “welp.. we just lost Mickey” as she dissolves into laughter. Every week I am one of thousands of people who feel like they are talking just to me. Once they did,
After years of being marginalized by the mainstream media, we have now had a voice that makes us feel welcome and normal in everyday society again.
She’s Mickey White, he’s Jim Geraghty, and I be all like ;