I love my parents

While watching yesterday's Yankee game, my dad got so pissed off at the announcers on Fox that he muted it. I can more than understand the impulse, as the announcers on Fox are biased asshats who Yankee bash whenever they get an opportunity (fair and balanced my ass). He was happier with this, but since my mom was crocheting, she said to him that she'd miss out on the game without any kind of announcing. So she told my dad to do it. She said he was great at it, and it made the game much more enjoyable.

Lucky for me, he's agreed to do the same tonight. The game is on ESPN, and since the announcers on there are enough to drive a saint to murder, I'm thrilled and relieved to be listening to this very special secondary audio presentation.

Apparently in times gone by, announcers really didn't spend inning after inning talking out of their ass about nonsense that makes no sense. Usually? They'd just tell you what was going on with the game, and the occasional fact, like the guy at home plate has had a 4-game hitting streak or that it's the third baseman's birthday. They understood that the less said, the better. That's the school my dad's sort of operating from, except that he's not limited by the FCC or broadcast regulations. Which makes his color commentary all the more...colorful. I only wish I had a recording of this.

In other Ain't-My-Parents-Cool-News, today, when we left the beach early due to a combination of bad weather and a bad band on the patio, we decided to watch a movie. I'd told my dad about Boondock Saints (my latest Netflix selection), and since we had some extra time, he said sure, let's watch it. Both he and my mom enjoyed the hell out of it. And frankly, so did I. Thanks to all who clutched their chest and fainted when I said I hadn't seen it, it made me get around to it all the faster.

I love my parents

While watching yesterday's Yankee game, my dad got so pissed off at the announcers on Fox that he muted it. I can more than understand the impulse, as the announcers on Fox are biased asshats who Yankee bash whenever they get an opportunity (fair and balanced my ass). He was happier with this, but since my mom was crocheting, she said to him that she'd miss out on the game without any kind of announcing. So she told my dad to do it. She said he was great at it, and it made the game much more enjoyable.

Lucky for me, he's agreed to do the same tonight. The game is on ESPN, and since the announcers on there are enough to drive a saint to murder, I'm thrilled and relieved to be listening to this very special secondary audio presentation.

Apparently in times gone by, announcers really didn't spend inning after inning talking out of their ass about nonsense that makes no sense. Usually? They'd just tell you what was going on with the game, and the occasional fact, like the guy at home plate has had a 4-game hitting streak or that it's the third baseman's birthday. They understood that the less said, the better. That's the school my dad's sort of operating from, except that he's not limited by the FCC or broadcast regulations. Which makes his color commentary all the more...colorful. I only wish I had a recording of this.

In other Ain't-My-Parents-Cool-News, today, when we left the beach early due to a combination of bad weather and a bad band on the patio, we decided to watch a movie. I'd told my dad about Boondock Saints (my latest Netflix selection), and since we had some extra time, he said sure, let's watch it. Both he and my mom enjoyed the hell out of it. And frankly, so did I. Thanks to all who clutched their chest and fainted when I said I hadn't seen it, it made me get around to it all the faster.