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Thursday, June 17, 2004

Escrow? I don't know escrow. (But escrow been berry, berry good to me.)

When it comes to business, I'm not all that smart. I know numbers, but I'm a whole lot better with abstract numbers than with numbers that mean something. That's why, when I send the Boss a cost report, sometimes I won't notice if it's out of whack. All I've done is plug the raw numbers into the right slots. If something's wrong, it's not the numbers. It's the slots. The slots are where I run into trouble.

We've apparently closed escrow on the Kennel. I signed a piece of paper today that will make me a partner in this venture. I think.

See, this is where my business myopia comes in. The Boss phoned this morning and told me he needed my signature in blue ink on something for the title company. (At least, I think he said it was for the title company.) He faxed me the sheet, a single page with several lines for signatures. One of the lines had my name on it, so I signed it. In blue ink.

Obviously I couldn't fax it back. (The blue would have turned to black, don't you know.) So I had to drive a few miles to meet him and hand him my blue signature. He's taking it to the title company tomorrow.

When I got home, I started thinking about it. I have no idea what I signed. It was page 6 or 18 or 30 (I don't know for sure, because I didn't think to keep a copy) of a document whose other 5 or 17 or 29 pages might commit me to almost anything. See what I mean? I can count, but thinking seems to be beyond the scope of my job description lately.

17 June 2004

Chicken Scarpariello on a bed of Lemon Orzo.

It's a good thing I trust the Boss completely to do the right thing and look out for my interests and make sure I'm not signing up for something that will land me in jail or the poorhouse or a refrigerator carton under an overpass. It's a good thing he's a completely honorable man who has never done an underhanded thing in his life. It's a good thing I don't have a clue what I'm getting into, because then I might worry.

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Let's say you're the Toronto Blue Jays. You're in last place in the same division with the Yankees and Red Sox, so you have no chance of finishing any higher than third and no shot at the playoffs. Most of your best players are on the disabled list, and your ace pitcher has already been knocked out of the game, but you're in a 5-5 tie against the Giants. Why in the world would you walk Barry Bonds to lead off the bottom of the eighth inning? Make him hit the ball! It's what the fans who pay to get in the ballpark want to see, and it's the right thing to do. You have nothing to gain by putting the winning run on base. In today's example, this move led to a three-run Giant rally and an 8-5 Giant win, leaving them a game and a half out of first place and putting you (if you're the Blue Jays) a little deeper into last place. Which you richly deserve.

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And if my thought dreams could be seen,
They'd probably put my head in a guillotine,
But it's all right, Ma, it's life and life only.