New 2010 Football Schedule: More Exposure For Bruins On National TV

sometimes Herbstreit’s head appears on my screen with his mouth moving, but I don’t hear what he’s saying.

I never have understood how so many highly educated and highly intelligent brothers and sisters of mine can weep and gnash their collective teeth and rend their collective blue and gold clothing about how bad the announcers are when the power to resolve the issue is that one little button on the remote called “Vol.”

A parable may help illustrate and educate. There was a man who went camping and wanted to build a fire. So he went to the next campsite to get a light. Seeing no one around, he picked up a handful of red hot coals to take back to his place and start his fire. Holding hot coals in his hand cause great pain, and how how he complained. The red hot coals were not only painful, they were biased, because they hurt the palm of his hand more than his fingers. And they weren’t accurate. And they were nonsensical. But more than anything, they caused constant, incessant, unendurable pain. But the man wanted his campfire lit, so he kept those coals clenched tightly in his hand, lest he drop one and miss the benefit that it would confer. Indeed, he kept those coals in his hand until they simply went out. After that, he went on his favorite campfire blog and found that many of his friends were also typing one-handed because they, too, had burned their hands by holding red hot coals.

Then an older, more geezerly sage, pointed out that all of their pain could have been avoided had they just dropped the coals and used their lighter, which strangely enough resembles the volume button on a tv remote. That sage also reminded them that every time they picked up those hot coals, they got burned, and it caused tremendous pain. He noted that all of these poor souls were smart enough to know that the stuff that looked like flames probably was flames. He asked them, “Brothers and sisters, why do you inflict such pain on yourself when it could so easily be avoided?” “Oh foolish geezer,” they said. “We scoff at you. Yea, we scorn your advice. We have to pick up the coals. We have always picked up the coals. The coals are our friends, because they provide all sorts of things that we can’t do without. How could we tell whether our campfire was actually burning just by looking at it. We have to have those coals always burning our hands to make us aware that our campfire is, indeed, burning. We simply cannot know if our campfire is burning otherwise. If we dropped Herbstreit or the Lavinoma, we will lose those precious insights.” The geezerly sage replied, “Tell me then what these great benefits are, so that I too can learn why it’s so desireable to have hot coals causing me the great pain that you complain about.”

Yea and verily, no one could answer the geezer. All was quiet, except for more complaints about how much pain the coals caused. The geezer sighed and walked away, back out into the wilderness, wondering when his voice would be heard. Alas, it came to pass that the volume button was directed at the geezerly sage, who only wanted to end the pain which his brothers and sisters were inflicting on themselves. His voice became weaker and weaker. And then his brother and sisters started misusing the apostrophe, and the geezerly sage wept bitter tears.

Thus endeth the reading of the parable. Go and listen no more.