Unfortunately, being connected to the world at the speed of thought has its share of deflating moments as well. Sparks of imagination can be turned to soggy wood in the time it takes to type four words. I humbly present Exhibit A.
I was listening casually to the Rangers/Rays contest on TBS last night. My ear warmed to a familiar sound, the smarmy glissade and a cocksure cadence belonging only to one of the most loathsome character actors the world has ever known. The revelation reared its head: the ALDS finale was being called by James Woods.
I knew in my heart of hearts that there was no way James Woods would be callling a Major League playoff game on a national broadcast, but goddamit, that voice. Finally, the camera switched to the booth, where it was revealed to me that Sharon Stone's drug-addled pimp was being voiced by none other than the Latin King and former Mets great Ron Darling.
Surely, methought, I am on the brink of new discovery. I mean, let's be honest. Who watches baseball AND movies AND has an ear for voices AND has access to a computer AND puts it all together? Only me. It can only. Be. Me.
Four words were offered at the altar of Google's sacrifice. Four simple words.
James.
Woods.
Ron.
Darling.
Jesus. Really? My thoughts (dis)proved to be unoriginal. Ashes to ashes. Lust to dust.
I'm not just common. I'm slow.
Fuck you, interwebs.
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