In the college days of my misspent youth I read too much Hemingway and blundered into a short-lived amateur boxing passion that taught me several important lessons about life’s occasional testosterone fueled confrontations:
I love this analogy... I can picture you in the ring as you describe each of these stages. I'm not a boxing fan but I do remember Ali and the rope-a-dope craze, very well. But still, I don't have a structured survival strategy. You've shown me that I should try to get one figured out!
Well, I'm rooting for you. I am somewhat quietly ashamed to think that it's all over - that's there no coming back at this point. I think they are too devious to allow mid-terms to surprise them. If you have absolutely no faith in the American people, there are too many good options to retain power.
ps. I also remember you briefly trying to show me how to box in the living room on 11th Avenue. I realized then that, in the world of boxing, I wouldn't have a prayer.
That was one thing that Michael did that kind of pissed me off. I remember going into my room and Michael was there with John Oldfather and Cynthia (god, I still remember their names) and Michael had pulled out some stuff I wrote and they were all having a chuckle over it. Seemed devious.
My thoughts exactly! 🥊
I love this analogy... I can picture you in the ring as you describe each of these stages. I'm not a boxing fan but I do remember Ali and the rope-a-dope craze, very well. But still, I don't have a structured survival strategy. You've shown me that I should try to get one figured out!
As an old wrestler of a certain style, I can appreciate.
Well, I'm rooting for you. I am somewhat quietly ashamed to think that it's all over - that's there no coming back at this point. I think they are too devious to allow mid-terms to surprise them. If you have absolutely no faith in the American people, there are too many good options to retain power.
ps. I also remember you briefly trying to show me how to box in the living room on 11th Avenue. I realized then that, in the world of boxing, I wouldn't have a prayer.
You could have been the white Ali. Except for the boxing part. Your poetry was really good.
That was one thing that Michael did that kind of pissed me off. I remember going into my room and Michael was there with John Oldfather and Cynthia (god, I still remember their names) and Michael had pulled out some stuff I wrote and they were all having a chuckle over it. Seemed devious.