Sprint and Ode to Jersey 1

First, the sprint...

Wow. Ok, first of all, I just realized that what I call a sprint is for most people called "jogging." My pace was 8:30 minutes per mile. That's jogging right. Regardless, for the purposes of this blog it will be referred to as sprinting. And .1 miles was pretty easy, so maybe next time I will do .15

Ode to Jersey

wait, first of all C-span is having audio difficulties, so there is someone at a podium ranting and you can't hear anything he's saying. It's hysterical. Ok, there is goes, I can hear him now. It's Kent Conrad, D-North Dakota.

Ok, here we go...

Ode to Jersey #1

Oh New Jersey, Massachusetts didn't feed me Taylor Ham, Egg, and Cheese Sandwiches,
but you did.
California didn't feed me pizza with a perfect crust,
with mozzarella cheese intermingled with tomato sauce like pollution in the night sky,
but you did.
North Carolina didn't provide me with flotillas of strip malls,
franchises strung together like pearls on a necklace,
chain stores lined up, hand in hand, like brothers in a retail square dance,
but you did.
Oh New Jersey,
you provide me all those things and more,
and not because you have to, but because you want to.
Oh New Jersey, you rain down blessings on me,
like the Nets rain down shots that almost go in,
like acid rain that falls on your face but doesn't burn.