Life is Good; I Want My Junior Mints
Last Wednesday night I went to a hockey game with my husband. I’m not exactly a sports fanatic, but it was pretty fun. I really enjoyed watching the goalies do their thing. They come out onto the ice and do this weird chopping action with their legs to rough-up the ice around them. Then they keep their eye on the puck at all times—moving a bit like transformer robots. They’re very focused. The other players seem to shimmy on and off the ice in a dance, some leaving the rink and others replacing them in a constant ebb and flow. Our team was the Grizzlies, and they were playing—get this—the Salmon Kings. So every time we scored, there was a live action shot of an enormous grizzly shaking a wiggling salmon in his teeth. That, and the loud blast of a train horn. Cool. Now let me back up just a bit. In order to park at the stadium we needed to pay a five dollar parking fee, and I almost never carry cash on me. So we turned around and lost our place in line, driving through town to find an