42

I have a couple of posts in the hopper about deep thoughts, about things like male psyche and ego trips that combine to make some dudes do horrible things (looking at you, Swalwell); another examining, of course, Felon47 and all the talk we hear about how he's losing his marbles; yet another that isn't especially deep but just about umping. But I find myself pressed for time and generally unfocused at the moment, so for now I will just say the following on this, the 15th day of April:

Happy Jackie Robinson Day to those who celebrate. Wear your No. 42 jerseys with pride. And happy Jackie Robinson Day to those who don't celebrate, too, but only those who don't because they're unfamiliar with it. As for the rest—if you're in Felon47’s regime or are pissed about Abigail Spanberger putting an end to taxpayer subsidies for the United Daughters of the Confederacy—then I wish you a day of thoughtful recriminations about the bad choices you've made in life and hope that the next time you are in dire need of help from someone the only people available are black.

Also, happy Tax Day and sympathies to those who didn't get around to filing before today. And congrats to my friend the accountant for making it through the season. Usually, I recognize taxes as what we pay to have a civilized society, but it's hard to keep that perspective this year since so much of what we're contributing on our 1040 forms is being misspent on things that are the antithesis of civilized. In some parallel universe the President Harris administration is using our tax money for good rather than evil, but as I read on a T-shirt the other night while umpiring, "we live in the darkest timeline."