Nuts! I’m still in California, at least as I’m writing this, because passage to New York has been moved to next week, likely on Monday or Tuesday  (which will delay my Wednesday post). The flight that I was going to take on Thursday morning was summarily cancelled, with hundreds of people scrambling for alternate flights. And more, return flights on Sunday are already over-booked. So we’ll try it again. For sure, nobody’s going anywhere, especially after Mayor Bloomberg has started laying new rules of conduct and housekeeping, which is nearly a guarantee of fresh blood. “Today” is Saturday, so I could very well be on location as you read this. We’ll see.

In the meantime…while I wait for a ride to New York…

Baseball is still with us, despite the turning leaves and the absence of summer. Wouldn’t you think that 162 games in the regular season would be enough? But you know why that is: people demand to know who the absolute best is, the champion, the sole resident at the top of the hill.

I’ve never understood that, given that the vagaries of the game so often purge teams that have spent an entire season performing well, only to suffer a September collapse (the Boston Red Sox come to mind). Hence, “the best” is at least a marginal thing. Excellence alone, it seems, is not enough. Appreciation of a game well played — or for that matter, a motion picture movingly produced — is not of its own accord sufficient. You have to be better than all comers. Just a bit juvenile, in my opinion.

Whatever. While I pack, here’s an astonishing video provided by friend Cass that gives totally new meaning to the notion of what “nothing” can actually be about.

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