The other day while I was stuck in a rut at my computer–somewhere between writing about higher education, jewelry, and Southside Speedway–my friend and neighbor called, in a bit of a bind. She and her husband were out of town and her 11 yr. old daughter felt crappy at school. Another friend had brought her home, but the kid was bummed out and needed an Advil and a drink and such. I was happy to run over to check on her and all was well when the mom returned an hour later.

It was lucky my friend called when she had because I was in the triple threat position–a position I don’t spend a lot of time in these days. As I know from my basketball-playing and coaching days, the triple threat position usually refers to the offensive player with the ball being in position to pass, dribble, or shoot.  As the deadline for my book approaches faster than I ever ran a suicide, I have a new understanding of the triple-threat position: showered, dressed in non-pajama clothes, and teeth brushed. More often than not lately, I’m only 1 for 3. Now that’s offensive.

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