On this day

Four years ago this morning, I called in sick, hopped a plane, and flew to Cleveland to go to a parade.

The Cavs had won the National Championship earlier in the week, the first time a Cleveland team had won since the Indians took the World Series in 1948. The rest of my family was downtown to celebrate that night -- my brother had driven in from D.C. -- and I felt left out. So I bought a plane ticket.

Getting on that plane -- with hundreds of other people who were doing the same thing I was -- was one of the happiest moments I can remember. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you the joy and excitement were palpable. People cut short vacations to be there. They canceled obligations. We just all wanted to share the experience.

It turns out that parades are kind of a mess. Or maybe it had just been so long since we'd had one? There were more than 1 million people (can you imagine that now?) cramming ever closer to see the local stars and dignitaries. People pressed so close they clogged the parade route. It was slow and hot and really kind of ridiculous.

But it was so much fun.

I was back in time to go to work the next morning, no one the wiser. And I can't begin to tell you what a wonderful choice it was. I felt so connected to everyone else on that plane, in the street. It was just straight-up joy, the likes of which I hadn't seen before and haven't seen since.

If the Browns or Indians manage the same feat, I'm sure it'll be just as crazy. But there's something about that first victory in my lifetime -- in the lifetime of so many! -- that will stand out forever.

Cavaliers

Cleveland sports teams, historically, collapse. There is a laundry list of moments where one team or another had victory in its grasp, only to collapse spectacularly and leave fans -- and a city -- heartbroken.

Then, in 2016, the Cavaliers won the NBA championship. And whatever words I use to tell you how amazing that was will be insufficient. It was a moment of joy I honestly never thought I would experience. You may think I'm crazy, but if you're from Cleveland, you understand.

I had saved the final game of the series on my DVR and would watch it when I was having a bad day -- as a reminder of that moment and a reminder that what is in front of you is not necessarily forever.

I know I'm not the only one, but it definitely made me smile today to see that in action in my Twitter feed, where someone posted the final seconds of the game and the ensuing celebration.

Oh, it lifts my mood and makes me smile. And as so many people are missing sports right now -- for the sports themselves, for the connections they create, for so many other reasons -- I was so glad to see 30 seconds of a four-year-old basketball game. Happier than I would have expected such a thing to make me.

The left wing of a goose

The Olympics always manage to capture my imagination. I can't help but be fascinated and amazed by the work, the drive, the effort that goes into getting to the games -- regardless of the outcomes.

And while I've been fast-forwarding through a lot of the pre-packaged video pieces, I've been reading a fair bit about the games. (Let's be honest -- I've always liked reading more.) In doing so, I came across this gem related to the creation of badminton shuttlecocks that I just need to share with you:

The shuttles themselves are intricate creations. Yonex orders thousands of goose feathers a year from China. The feathers are then trimmed to size and matched by color, flexibility and other factors. Only feathers from the left wings of geese are used in the tournament shuttles. Satoshi Yuza, a promotion manager at Yonex, chalked that up to aerodynamics.

Can you imagine? Only the feathers from the left wing of a goose go into competition-level shuttlecocks. What a weird, beautiful thing.

Of hashtags

Last year (Was it last year? It was not -- it was Dec. 2009!), we brought you the fantastic hashtag #washingtonpostcorrections. Today, I share another: #JerryMealsSaysItsSafe. (You should click that link, if you click no other links in this post.)

Jerry Meals is a Major League Baseball umpire. In the 19th inning of a Braves/Pirates game Tuesday night (that actually ended Wednesday morning at 1:50 a.m.), he made a widely debated call at home plate, saying that a runner who was tagged out was actually safe. That meant that the Braves won the game, and it knocked the Pirates -- who were in first place in their division (and for the Pirates, this is a feat!) -- back out of the lead.

I hope I didn't lose you with that background. Now, angry Pirates fans (and others with a sense of humor) are making lists of other things (Well, OK, click this one, too.) that Meals says are safe, that are as far as far can be from safe.

Some examples:

• WhyteDynamite: Think I may go for a ride in a zepplin this wknd. I've always wanted to look down at Earth and smoke cigarettes. #jerrymealssaysitssafe
• DBergz13: jumping out of an airplane without a parachute cuz #JerryMealssaysitssafe
• uncleyucki: Playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun. #jerrymealssaysitssafe
• hamsandcastle: An island full of dinosaurs in captivity? Count me in! #jerrymealssaysitssafe
• jesslag: Gonna cross these mountains with my new friends the Donners #jerrymealssaysitssafe

There are more about Casey Anthony as a babysitter, Amy Winehouse's drug ingestion, playing in traffic and condom use -- among other wonderfully inappropriate things.

Read. Giggle. Enjoy.

A foggy day in Clevelandtown

Perhaps I have already mentioned my love of fog. Yesterday was a magnificent day -- because it started out foggy and ended up sunny and beautiful.

This foggy image arrived in my e-mail box this afternoon. It's Progressive Field, where the Indians play, as coated in clouds. Apparently this guy took it. You can also see a fogless shot on his page, but what's the fun in that?

In the news

Two things to share with you, both from New York Times stories this week.

This, from a story about the new Olympic sport ski cross and its competitors, had me laughing loudly: "Others included Richard Spalinger of Switzerland, whose hobbies were announced as football, anger management and bowling."

And this, sweeter, is from an obituary of a guy who created a number of magazines. The quote is from his wife: “Would you say he was a strong outdoorsman? No, but he tried everything,” Mrs. Welsh said. “His whole motto was, ‘Life should be lived like a cavalry charge.’ ”

Holy Boss's Day, Batman!

My brother has a job where he is in charge of people. He keeps claiming that these people like him, but I thought that was just something that brothers said to sisters to prove how awesome they are. Until tonight.

Friday, as you may have known, was Boss's Day. It's the best day for sucking up to someone who decides whether you keep your job -- well, the best day other than every other day. And my brother's employees went all out.

The card wasn't enough. Nor was the sign they made describing him as "Da Boss." A cassata cake, delicious as it was (And man, was it delicious. And gigantic. I think it was a full sheet.) just didn't cut it.

On top of all of that (and that's obscene already, from where I stand!), the co-workers went in together to get him a #23 Cavs jersey -- that's LeBron James' number, for those of you who don't follow basketball.

On the back, though? My brother's name.

I was in hysterics at the efforts, but I guess it means they really do like him!

The future is the past

I saw a woman hula-hooping on the sidewalk today. She was really good -- it was going up and down her torso to her neck, over a shoulder, on an arm. I was impressed. Much better than me -- either IRL or on a Wii.


And then, a limo that had doors that opened up, like a DeLorean. I wanted to stop and stare, but the light was green.

How 'bout that?

I drove home super-psyched after bowling with a friend tonight because not only did I break 100 in all three games -- 112, 116, 102 -- but I bowled a turkey, a definite first. But then, 116 is also my high score.

So there I was, thrilled with my bowling victories, about to pull into the driveway, when I was blinded by a bright light right on the curb. We're talking bright lights. Like, the kind they use to make it look like daylight during road construction. And there was another one on the neighbor's lawn, and what looked like a giant projection screen, too.

I decided to go explore.

It turns out that my neighbor works for an ad agency and that the lights (and plastic forks stuck in the lawn) were part of a campaign they're filming for Hot Pockets. It has something to do with senior citizens who are mad that people are eating without utensils and stick forks in the lawn (Oh, the beauty of Google) to protest. If you see it (I think they said it's for the Web, not TV), you should watch. And send me a link, so I can see how it came out.

I talked to one of the senior citizen (his words) actors, who's a civil engineer by day and has done seven commercials and roles as extras, this year, by night. It's a little random for a Wednesday night, but certainly cool.

Although I'm still proud of my turkey.

Yay city

Between the Cleveland speller and the Cavs' victory (just two more!) I think my city will be a very happy place tomorrow.

OK, I'm perhaps the only one who cares about the speller. But let's not parse the reasons for the celebration!

Super Bowl

So the ads were kind of lame. But the game was good. It would have been even better if Pittsburgh hadn't won.

I think my favorite ad may have been the Alec Baldwin Hulu one, with my mushy, squishy brains to be removed with a melon baller (apparently, you can see that and all other Super Bowl ads at hulu.com, conveniently, but I don't really think they're worth it).

I was also excited to learn that there's going to be another Witch Mountain movie.

But my favorite part? When I learned that Cardinals' quarterback Kurt Warner has a tendency to trip over his teammates' feet before he can throw the ball. That's just funny.

Google News isn't cooperating, so you'll just have to trust me on that one.