From the Jill Schwartz Memorial Library here in the Wilds of Connecticut.

This is obscure. Season 4 in American tragedy, I am your host, your friend, your ear lover, and literary, mansplainer in chief, Michael, Ian Black, doing something.

Gosh, I don't, I've certainly never done while recording this podcast and haven't probably done in, gosh, I don't know how many years.

But as I'm recording, I've got a basketball game on in the

background. I'm watching a Knicks game in the background. It's on mute. They're playing the

Lakers. And when was the last time I sat down and watched a Knicks game? Probably not since the mid-1990s,

because I am what you call a fair weather fan.

I mean, I don't watch a lot of sports in general.

But as I enter my senile years and as I, as decrepitude slowly encroaches, I sort of am tempted

to get back into some sport.

The problem is, when I was in my 20s, in New York,

all my friends were into the Knicks. The Knicks were among the best teams in the league.

They were perennial playoff contenders. They were often, not often, they were a couple of times in the finals,

the semifinals. And so for a number of years there, it was a whole thing with me and my friend

group, the next. And after, I don't know how many years of heartbreaks, I said to myself,

why am I doing this? Why do I continue to torture myself over something that literally has zero impact

on my life?

And so I said, this is just ridiculous, and I gave up sports viewing, although I do still

pay attention peripherally to sports.

I pay attention to sports stories, if not the games themselves.

So I don't know, we've been loafing around the house all day.

It remains snowy here.

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