That time I mistakenly called a guy Bill...over and over

We all have things we've said or done in our lives that make us wince when we recall them.

And they're not even necessarily "bad" things, just embarrassing for one reason or another.

I have many of these things. One is the "Bill" incident.

Some background: Terry and I have, for many years, been fans of jazz saxophonist Dave Koz. It's a long story, but we have gotten to know Dave well and always avail ourselves of the two backstage passes he leaves for us every time he plays in Cleveland.

For many years, Dave's keyboardist and musical arranger has been a guy named Brian Simpson. Brian is very talented, and I always enjoy his arrangements of Dave's songs and how he holds the band together.

Some years ago after one of Dave's shows, we went backstage and I wanted to tell Brian how much I appreciate his work. I caught a glimpse of him as he was walking away and called after him.

Except, for some reason, I suddenly thought his name was Bill.

"BILL! BILL!" I yelled as he, inexplicably to me, just kept walking down the hallway, not turning around. "BILL!"

Very quietly, Terry leaned over to me and said, "I think his name is Brian."

It was, of course. And still is.

It was embarrassing. And Brian never did hear/see me that night.

As we were driving home, Terry looked over at me and saw a grimace on my face.

"Are you thinking about the fact that you called him Bill?" she asked.

"Yes," I said through clenched teeth.

A couple of years ago we again found ourselves backstage after a Dave Koz show, and this time I did get a chance to meet Brian. I even called him by his actual name. And I told him the story of the time I yelled "BILL!" when trying to track him down.

I now think the story is hilarious. Brian seemed a bit confused and honestly not especially amused by it.

No matter. Any time Terry and I encounter someone named Bill now, one of us will inevitably say, "BILL!"

No one else gets it, but we think it's hilarious.

That's marriage for you.

I spent hours playing with Slime, and I really can't figure out why

Back in the 70s, the good people at the Mattel toy company came out with a product called Slime. It was exactly what you would assume it to be: oozing green slime.

It came in a little plastic green garbage can and the idea was pretty much just to play with it. There was no end goal or any sort of competition involved with Slime, unless of course you had contests to see who would dare to eat any of it.

You just sort of felt it, squeezed it, stretched it, and wrapped it around your arm or whatever, much like the kids in the vintage ad above. It should be noted, however, that I never came across anyone who, like the kid in the bottom left corner, turned criminally insane upon playing with Slime.

It wasn't a threat to stick to your clothes, really, but you did want to keep it out of your long, thick 70s hair, or there could be problems.

In later years, Mattel released Slime with Worms (which was purple and which I owned) and Slime with Eyeballs (which I think was green and which I did not own).

I can't decide whether Slime is a toy that works across generations and reflects a certain innocence on the part of all young kids, to the point that they can derive hours of amusement from it. Or whether it was something that only could have worked in the time when I grew up and was more a product of longer attention spans and less exposure to electronics.

Maybe both.

Either way, I can't tell you how much time I spent playing with my cans of Slime. The chemical smell of it still sticks in my head.

Not the taste, though. I never went that far.

As far as you know.

Hockey is back, Beethoven not so much

We are, and long have been, big hockey fans in our house.

We have been season ticket holders for our local American Hockey League team, the Cleveland Monsters, ever since the team came to town in 2007. We have two seats to every game every season.

The 14th of those seasons, COVID-delayed as it has been, starts next Friday as the Monsters host the Rochester Americans.We plan to be there for most of the 14 scheduled home games this winter and spring.

(NOTE: The Monsters were originally supposed to open their season tonight in Rockford, Illinois, but their two games this weekend against the Ice Hogs were postponed for reasons related to COVID protocols.)

I am also a subscriber to The Cleveland Orchestra. That group was planning to begin in-person concerts in early March, and I had intended to be there.

Sadly, however (and perhaps not surprisingly), I received an email from the Orchestra this week announcing the cancellation of live concerts this spring. They tried hard to make it work, but considering the advanced average age of a symphony orchestra audience, this decision is likely for the best.

Instead, they will continue offering online "virtual" concerts every couple of weeks, as they have been since the fall.

The question of live event attendance nowadays is an understandably sticky one. Is it safe? What precautions are being put in place? What risk is involved, and is it worth the utter joy of moving back toward something resembling normalcy?

In the case of both the Monsters and the Orchestra, I felt comfortable that the proper steps had been taken to keep audience members like me safe. For hockey there will be limited seating, social distancing, mask wearing, plenty of hand sanitizer, etc.

I am 51 years old and healthy. The typical hockey attendee is even younger and healthier than me. It all seems relatively safe.

Still, I completely understand the rationale of those who believe otherwise and opt out of this shortened season.

I just can't wait for the day when it's not even a question anymore.

Go Monsters, and uh, go Orchestra!

Most of us have no business being anywhere near a classroom full of kids

My niece Mallory turns 30 today, which in itself is a time to step back and reflect on your own mortality. When your little baby niece is 30, that must mean you're...well, considerably older.

She is a third-grade teacher, which makes her a superhero in my book.

(It can be argued, by the way, that we as a society throw the "superhero" or just plain "hero" designation around a little too freely. But I count as a hero anyone who does a job society needs but that I would never in a million years take on. Soldiers, teachers, custodial staff, etc. Who's going to do their jobs? You? Me? No? Well, then, they're heroes.)

Anyway, she spends her days teaching often-unruly 8- and 9-year-olds, which even in the best of times isn't an easy task and has to be 10 times more difficult in this age of the pandemic.

I have been told I could and even should have been an educator.

I don't know what people base this on, but I am not nearly as tough, smart, or dedicated as the people for whom teaching is a calling.

Going into classrooms as a guest speaker, as I have done a number of times, is one thing.

Coming up with lesson plans and doing it day after day after day after day? That is quite another, thank you.

And trust me here: It ain't as if these folks are getting rich.

There is a small sliver of the population that has the brains and the mental and emotional disposition to teach. And to them I say, thank you for your service.

I would have given up within six months of taking the job.

Oh, and happy birthday, Mal!

Favorite movie candy: Raisinets. Your results may vary.

Not that we were ever especially frequent movie-goers, but I do miss deciding on a Saturday evening to go out and see a new flick at the local cinema. I think it's one of those things that you only truly appreciate when you can't do it.

Actually, I think a lot of theatres are open these days, so you COULD still do it. But it's obviously not the same sort of experience as it used to be.

One day things will go back to normal, though, and when they do, we will once again be free to pay an exorbitant amount of money for a movie ticket and an even more obscene amount for snacks. When that happens, what's your go-to at the concession counter?

Mine is Raisinets, hands down. Love me some chocolate-covered raisins. Actually, love me some raisins, period. I'm a fan of the little dried grapes.

True story: At Christmas, among other things they would get me, my in-laws used to buy me a four-pound bag of Sunmaid raisins every year.

It was not at all uncommon for that entire bag to be gone by New Year's Day.

I'm not kidding. I could eat a four-pound bag of raisins in less than a week and be none the worse for wear.

Of course, I was in my 20s at the time. Nowadays, this simply could not happen.

We won't get into the details, but if there's such a thing as Exploding Colon, that's what would happen to me if I were to attempt this feat now.

Still, I can stomach a little box of Raisinets, and from time to time I do.

Most people are going with popcorn, Junior Mints, Reese's Cups, or some other movie theatre staple here. Some of you may even opt for the Sno-Caps, which if I may say is a bold and admirable choice.

Or Goobers. I do like Goobers. The only thing keeping them from being #1 on my list is that they're seemingly named after a character on The Andy Griffith Show, and that's not what I'm looking for from my movie candy.

It would be like eating a box of Floyd the Barbers or Barney Fifes. Both entertaining characters, but neither of which I'm looking to snack on while watching Shrek VI.

The definitive(?) statement on how many Groundhog Days Phil Connors lived through in the movie

I am a big, big fan of the 1993 Bill Murray movie "Groundhog Day."

I am also one of many people who have wondered just how many times Murray's character had to relive Groundhog Day in the film.

That number, I used to figure, was probably 100 times or so.

Not even close. The piano scenes alone should have convinced me of that.

The actual total is likely higher. Considerably higher.

How do I know? Because I've watched this video. And if like the movie, you should watch it, too.

God bless you, Phil Connors.

You get an all-expenses-paid trip to any place in the world. Where do you go?

I like to travel.

Actually, I like to be in other places. I'm not a big fan of the process of actually getting to those places.

The older I get, the less I like airports, long car rides, etc. But once I get where I'm going, I couldn't be happier.

I've had jobs that required a good amount of travel, both domestic and international. I don't have nearly the travel resumé of many people I know, but I've hit a few interesting spots.

I think I still have 13 or 14 more states to visit to check all 50 off my list.

Country-wise, I've been to China, Australia, Canada, Mexico, the UK, France, Germany, and Spain. And I guess you could technically say I was in The Netherlands, but I never left the Amsterdam airport so it really doesn't count.

So if you came to me and said I could pick one place to go and you would pick up the tab, what would it be?

I really do need to hit Italy and Japan at some point, and I've never set foot in South America, which makes Brazil inviting.

But I'm pretty sure I know what my choice would be, and I have a feeling it probably doesn't match yours.

I would go to Antarctica.

Why? First off, how cool would it be to say you've been in Antarctica? Very cool, at least as far as I'm concerned.

Then there's this: Any other place in the world, I could eventually find my way there if I really wanted to go. But there aren't regular tours exploring the continent that sits at the bottom of the world. Other than a few cruises that skirt the coast and/or make brief stops to say you've been there, you generally have to be a research scientist to make it to Antarctica.

So if you're footing the bill, that's where I'm going.

How about you?