Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's Bête Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com

Friday, November 19, 2004


Lower lip stuck out and curled down and trembling, saucer eyes starting to moisten, quavering voice.

Is Big Bird gone?

(We’re reading a book, a book he’s read before. He knows the ending -- he figured it out right away -- but now he’s chosen to have forgotten the outcome.)

“Let’s look for her. I bet we’ll find her.” (As I recall, on the TV show they kept Big Bird’s sex ambiguous. The book IDs the big yellow feathered thing as a He. But since all the Sesame Street principals are He’s, we’re going with Big Bird being a She.)

We page through the book, and the coming-on-2-year-old finds her. “Ohhhh!”


Every year I’m gratified to see the Michigan - Ohio State game rated as the top college football rivalry -- sometimes even the top sports rivalry -- in the country. Having grown up in a Michigan family, it’s one of the only games I’ll watch. The greatest of all the games is usually held up to be Michigan’s 1969 upset of Ohio State. I was there -- my first football game, six years old. My parents had season tickets, my mom didn’t want to go, and she made my dad take me, to his chagrin -- he could have sold the ticket. The only thing I remember is that my dad made a five dollar bet with a Buckeye in the parking lot. I scolded him, told him betting is wrong. Some things don’t change -- moralistic prig at 6, moralistic prig at 41. He told me I could have the money if he won, and then I was excited. Other things don’t change either -- easily bought-off hypocrite at 6 . . . After the game, my dad went to collect, and the Buckeye refused to pay.

A year ago, my college pal Jake came over and we watched with the then-baby-dude. He was 10 and a half months old. My beloved spouse had to work that day. Michigan won. After the game, the baby dude was so excited that he took his first steps.

Go Blue!

(Out of context, it’s almost a Dada phrase, no?)

Go Blue!

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