I recently met three guys from Chicago, and when they found out I live in St. Louis, they immediately wanted to get into a discussion about the Cubs-Cardinals rivalry. Each time, I had to stop them to explain that I’m the only guy in St. Louis who couldn’t care less about the Cardinals — or any other baseball team, for that matter. Sure, when I was on the radio (both here and in Chicago) I had to have a basic idea how the team was doing and who the players were, but that was the full depth of my knowledge in that area. Since retiring, I’ve paid zero attention to the sport, so I can’t compare pitchers, hitters, managers, or anything else. I do, however, know that Chicago’s deep dish pizza is better than the cracker crust with plastic cheese that St. Louisans were brought up on.
At the poker table this weekend, two people sitting near me were discussing Christopher Nolan’s movie, “Oppenheimer” (which I reviewed here). They both loved it, with the person on my left saying he had gotten very high before seeing it. I was surprised, since “Oppenheimer” did not strike me as a movie that marijuana would make more enjoyable, with the possible exception of the Trinity Test explosion. Still, it’s not like it’s 1968 and he went to see “2001: A Space Odyssey” while on acid.
Having watched “The Bear,” I’m aware that people working in restaurant kitchens have to warn each other when they’re in proximity, calling out “behind,” “sharp,” or “corner.” But I had never seen it in real life until I was seated at a table near the kitchen doors. Some of the servers going in and out were pretty good about saying “corner” as they rounded the pedestal just outside the kitchen — but not all of them, which made me wonder if the system works without everyone participating. Then I laughed out loud when a waiter who’s obviously more geometrically precise came through the doors and called out, “Curve!”