How to move a 5 o’clock shadow to 7 p.m. and other nuggets of wisdom
COMMENTARY
Nobody asked me, but now that we’ve heard how the management of Dick’s Last Resort in the Power
Plant felt about Baltimore — some Trump-tongued executive called the city a “hellhole dumpster fire” — I’m glad I never spent a dime there. Good riddance.
Related: After the pandemic, when things settle down again, it would be nice to see fewer chain restaurants and bars like Dick’s and more homegrown establishments along the Inner Harbor. Some real Baltimore businesses — a bakery, pizza shop, tavern, a diner, a brewery, a deli — would provide local flavor that’s been missing for years. This could happen at Harborplace, which needs badly to be re-imagined and replaced.
Nobody asked me, but Kim Klacik’s quest for Maryland’s 7th District congressional seat looks more like an audition for Fox & Friends than a political campaign.
Nobody asked me, but while Twitter comments commonly run from snarky to crass, providing guilty amusement for those who visit the tweetosphere, the fun stops at death. Cracks about homicides in Baltimore reveal cold detachment from this terrible reality, from lives lost and families diminished, and the pain of others. Joe Ehrmann, the life coach and minister who once played for the Baltimore Colts, believes the nation suffers from an “empathy deficit disorder.” That’s reflected in social media more than anywhere.
Nobody asked me, but the death of the beautiful Chicago Bears running back Gale Sayers immediately brought to mind the 1971 made-for-TV movie, “Brian’s Song,” and the mass guy-cry that took place the night it aired on ABC. (I’m pretty sure girls and women cried, too.) Billy Dee Williams (pre-Lando Calrissian) played Sayers and James Caan (preSonny Corleone) played his teammate Brian Piccolo. If you didn’t know the story — Sayers and Piccolo were the NFL’s first interracial roommates; Piccolo died of cancer in 1970 at age 26 — you didn’t see the tears coming. Some of my friends were still weeping the next day.
Related: Sayers played in the 1960s against the Colts. In a game in 1968 at Memorial Stadium, he ran 59 yards from scrimmage for a touchdown, and, according to George Vecsey of The New York Times, he considered that run the greatest of his career. Sayers changed directions so many times on the way to the end zone that he ran past Bubba Smith, the Colts’ huge defensive end, three separate times.
Nobody asked me, but here’s some advice for non-bearded men desiring a peak experience at an affordable price: Invest in a shaving brush and shaving soap, then foam up the old fashion way. I made the switch from canned shaving gels two years ago and my only regret is that the transition did not happen much sooner. I recommend spending between $15 and $20 for a good brush (got mine at the ShopRite on Perring Parkway), getting a shaving mug with a knob handle and buying soap that contains shea butter. The process slows you down, Zen-like, and makes shaving a pleasure. No matter your choice in razor, shaving with soap leaves your face as smooth as the day you were born. It moves your 5 o’clock shadow to at least 7 p.m. This concludes the personal grooming part of today’s column.
Nobody asked me, but the Purple Line looks like a mess. The $5.9 billion rail project in Maryland’s affluent suburbs near D.C. — the one Gov. Larry Hogan allowed to move forward after he killed the Red Line in development-needy Baltimore — is in danger of collapse. The contractors are packing up and set to leave in a dispute about cost overruns with the Maryland Transit Administration. So, where’s Larry, the vaunted businessman? Isn’t he available to work things out and keep the project moving? Oh, right. He’s on a book tour, setting up for a presidential run.
Nobody asked me, but if Hogan doesn’t fix the Purple Line problems, it will hurt his potential for higher office. Left unfinished, the project will look like — what’s that word Hogan used to describe some aspect of the Red Line? — oh, yeah, a boondoggle. Not a good look.
Nobody asked me, but I think the Orioles are on their way to a solid rebuild and I predict that, in 2021, they will win more games than they lose. (Of course, I made the same prediction for this season and, going into the weekend, the Orioles were 24-33, but I am not the least bit discouraged.) I came to really like these guys: Cedric Mullins, Rio Ruiz, Hanser Alberto, Anthony Santander, Jose Iglesias, the new kid Ryan Mountcastle, Chance Sisco, Renato Nunez, to name just several. The new pitcher, long-haired Dean Kremer, looks like the real deal. John Means struck out 12 last Sunday, and who doesn’t smile at that? I have a feeling — nothing metric, mind you — that the Orioles are on the right track. Next season, assuming a full one, they’ll win at least 82 games. Mark my words.
Related: Will the guy who took my bet on the current season get back to me? I owe you a dozen crabs from L.P. Steamers.
Last thing: I was striving for delicious irony in referring to the team as the Awful Orioles all season. That’s how The Washington Post’s Tom Boswell described them in July. Well, at this writing, the Awful Orioles have won one more game than the world champion Washington Nationals, so there, and that’s that.
Dan Rodricks