This Week in Milford

June 13, 2019

It Is Better To Spike The Volleyball With My Friends Than To Make The Final Cut On The Olympic Team With My Enemies.

Filed under: Just plain sad, Milford Idiots, What the hell is going on here? — tdrewhardin @ 7:57 am

061319

Or something along those lines. I don’t know if she got that inspiration watching the Avogadro’s number of stars(you think that’s where he determined the number of molecules, reading this plotli-nahhhhhhhhhh, he and Galileo were at The Bucket, chompin’ on Bucket Pita Salad and Mosel Wine, hoping the Pisa Tower, now The Milford Tower Senior Citizen Retreat Center, didn’t fall on them) in P1.

Being a Christian, one of my favorite Scriptures comes from Proverbs: “It is better to eat soup with someone you love than steak with someone you hate.” A very good lesson and ONE of the lessons Linda learned along the Long and Winding Road that was this plot.

The trouble was, were you as confused as I was trying to figure out what in the name of Scratching at the Volleyball Net were the teams Mimi was talking about? College teams? Teams in the WNBA???? Is there a League in the Galaxy? Last I checked, Linda you’re still in high school. Okay, Confucius say, that if you’ve lost the drive for your favorite sport, playing sandlot leagues at the sand volleyball courts behind the east parking lot at Milford Lounge is perhaps your Viagara.

But whaddup with all this name-calling? For all we know, Mimi memorized names out of the Milford Phone Book, left dangling in a deserted phone booth at the S-Mart. Boy, that’ll up my score on the Persuasibility portion of the Milford Vocational Aptitude Test. Just locate the nearest enclosed stall, maybe in the lobby by the snack bar at Milford General Hospital from where I’m standing, and I’ll ace it, fer sure.

And we had to go through hats and hippos back to hats so this plot apparently could save face, that’s right, Linda decked out, hat and all, like Aretha Franklin, just so this plot wouldn’t take a beating in the Rating Sweepstakes. Milford had Captain Kangaroo and Bozo the Clown on the other channels, y’know.

“Okay, boys and girls, if you’ll keep your head out of your rear ends(Children’s show, keep in mind) and listen to the coaches, you can wind up just like me. Ol’ Bozo is makin’ a good living because he didn’t overextend himself and he bloomed where he was planted.”

I think that’s speaking for itself. I’m gonna go check and see if “Good Morning, America” is on yet. I understand they’re interviewing Iron Butterfly. AND as a special treat, they’re doing the full-length version of “In-a-Goda-da-Vida”. That’ll kill Mimi’s name-calling in the Ratings War, don’t you think?

 

Who shot Coach Shaw?

“Suspect was seen with a hippo on the dashboard. Says it’s some kind of good luck charm.”

“Run the hippo through Ballistics. See if it matches the bullet that went through the juke box at The Bucket.”

“Way ahead of you. In fact, witnesses say suspect shot at Coach Shaw because he couldn’t stand Slim Whitman’s ‘Red River Valley’ being played. Shaw evidently was a big fan. Went to see Slim play at Milford Amphitheater right after Mitch Miller Singers and Perry Como.”

“Will do.”

 

Now is everybody satisfied that this will be the end of this charade? Because David’s dad reminds me of that song by The Doors

 

DAVID WALKED ON DOWN THE HALL

“Father?”

“Yes, Son?”

“I want to kill this plot.”

“Ask your mother.”

“She said it was OK.”

“Fine with me.”

BLAM

 

It is VERY tough for me to want to say anything smart-ass in P2, chiefly because it hits too close to home.

Therefore, for all you people out there who have kids in sports or are thinking about it, here’s a few tips along the way, things that worked for me

I had 3 things I told my players in Babe Ruth League Baseball or when I followed my nephew for 12 years, all the way to high school, primarily baseball and cross country

1) Give 110% at all times

2) Listen to the coaches and do everything they ask, to the best of your ability

3) Come prepared. The best teams are not always better-talented but they come to play

Regardless of what the scoreboard says at the end of the game.

 

A few other things. Don’t let your kid argue with coaches or umpires. That’s YOUR job. And if you do have anything to say, keep your voice low and know what you’re talking about.

Therefore, learn the rules, from the rule book all the way down to the local yokel guidelines.

BE THERE for your kid, no matter the record or the sport. You might have played basketball but if he or she likes canoeing, then the 3 rules above apply and you support him or her to the best of your ability.

If you criticize, criticize in private, praise in public. Coach them up until high school, then let the coaches take over. Nothing irritates a high school coach more than an armchair coach. If you work on something, it better be good and with the approval of the coach of the team your kid is playing on.

Only have positive things to say about other people, teams, coaches. Otherwise, say it to their face or not at all. For those of you wanting your kids in sports, I’m throwing in a freebie

“Silence is seldom misquoted”

LEARN THAT ONE BY HEART

 

Finally, MAKE SURE your kid understands that SCHOOL COMES FIRST. Don’t EVER give him or her the impression that winning a championship at the expense of his or her performance in school is tolerated.

I follow my own advice. I follow the local college baseball players in the Minor Leagues with the understanding GET YOUR DEGREE. As the old saying goes, very few will make the Pros. The rest of us better have something to fall back on. The idea is to make them better people anyway.

Don’t get me wrong. A couple of guys I follow got called up to The Show. That’s when making academics a priority gets sweeter. In the end, make sure your kid is academically eligible so if he or she is in that championship picture, you can dance a jig or two like I did.

Otherwise, ALWAYS have something to fall back on. The other day I read where one of my players was a manager at a Radio Shack. Another one is a team leader at PPG Industries. That’s when I knew us coaches did our jobs.

 

It’s worth it, Gang. Stay with ’em. They need you.

 

We move onto P3 where Linda is making the decision of her career with a platform in the background borrowed, rumors say, from the “Shiny Happy People” video. Wow, that old man’s got some energy. I hope I have that much chutzpah pedaling a Hostess Ding Dong w/Sprinkles skyline when I reach that age. Then he’s got those huge cauliflower trees. I knew Herbicide Technology does wonders but this is an old man behind the scenery trying to lug some Asparagus Redwood around David’s house. And all that dancing and singing from Kate Pierson of the B-52’s? No, David’s dad, don’t call the police. You’ve already proven enough of an asshole so much I wanna hit your bald pate with a wet cauliflower, preferably the one with the pine needles in it.

ANYWAY, that off my chest, I’m still debating what Linda means by friends. As in, find a volleyball net someone threw away in the garbage can for Trash Day, put it up on the same tree where Beaver hangs his tire swing or target practice for pitching baseballs, call 5-6 girls(or boys if ya wanna go co-ed), choose up sides and play without keeping score? Not a bad idea and if Linda can manage her competitive juices along the way, more power to her(NO, BEAVER, THAT WAS OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

Or does she want to play with friends in a semi-competitive environment, Sand Volleyball League Matches down at Milford Beverage Warehouse? Well, as long as she doesn’t buy booze, I’m sure The Warehouse woild be willing to bend the rules since they need the money to keep the League going. I don’t think sales of Guillaume de Vergy Brut is financing this venture.

All righty then, Linda, get that bikini out of the closet, call some girls, sign the liability forms saying you won’t hold the Warehouse responsible if you let another softball or volleyball slip through the cracks because you were too pissy-faced about Australia and looks like the fun will never stop.

Beyond that, I’m scratchin’ my noggin, trying to figure out what playing with friends entails. Then again, that’s a Hostess Cup Cake skyline that old man is luggin’, isn’t it?

 

“It looks like Linda’s learning a lot about life. And that gives me the opportunity to announce the 1st Annual All-Comers Double-Elimination Sand Volleyball Tournament sponsored by Milford Beverage Warehouse held this Saturday at their newly-constructed state-of-the-art Sand Volleyball facility.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp speaking on behalf of The Warehouse and when I saw that they didn’t just dump some dog-poop-infested sand from Mudlark Lake, I was highly impressed. With volleyball nets that the Olympics use to determine Gold Medals and chalk lines that’ll put a church softball field out of its misery, shoot, I’m gonna skip the links this Saturday.

They have Tournaments for all ages and skill levels. In fact, Mimi and I just turned in our form for the Co-Ed Bracket, Bloodhound Division. Gotta take it easy when you get into an exciting Tournament like this. I understand Tod Andrews and his 360-pound, one-tooth cousin entered the Golden Retriever level. He insisted that she can move and spike, even in the sand and with all that luggage. We’ll see.

Linda, if you’re within range, you need to come on down with David and have him watch you play. With bleachers vulcanized from the finest tungsten mills of New Thayer, he can down a Bud, as long as he’s accompanied by his asshole-of-a-dad who does double duty, BTW, lighting up the courts with his head. Copper light reflection technology is so avant-garde, geez.

Don’t you want to watch David and Pennytop go apeshit, oops, gaga, over your Grade A performance? Sure you do. In fact, the Female Bracket, Snippet Division was judged the most competitive Division by the Milford Volleyball Conglomerate. Geez, Louise, Linda, playing with friends while still at the top of your game, plenty of brewskies flowing, and the Bud Man’s in the house? And he’s in the Caped Crusader Bracket, Beagle Division, so hop on over to Court #2 with your Bud Lite as he battles Batman and The Green Lantern. Lools like everybody’s partying like it’s 2099.

And with beer and wine specials too low to advertise over the radio, you have a winning formula for a killer Saturday night. Sorry, the FCC wouldn’t renege, even after we waived the fee for their entrants in the Co-Ed Bracket, Government Employee Division. You’ll just have to check out these specials yourself while you’re down here, partying for your life.

So come on, get pumped, get rowdy, get ready, get wasted for the Tournament. The Bucket couldn’t even begin to know where to go, they’re too busy bribing City Officials and concocting illegal Bond Issues, just to get a Liquor License when they should hire the Drott man and dig up their own courts. Right now, they’re just digging a grave.

Come watch Mimi and I tough it out this Saturday and get a cart full of goodies to stuff in the trunk. It don’t get no better than that. Only at Milford Beverage Warehouse.”

Comment away, Gang. I still think the backdrop has the color of a Hostess Twinkie during the day. I’ll ask the old man when he’s back from break.

 

Today’s headline from the Milford Enquirer

“O.J In The Finals Of The Men’s Bracket, Greyhound Division!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“How’d I get Cochrane in the Draw? Isn’t that a conflict of interest????????”

 

 

“A six-pack of Zing Zang Bloody Mary is HOW much?????Damn!!!!!!!!! I got that five dollar bill in my back pocket somewhere. Oh, shit, are we still live????? I hope the FCC was at a Port-O-Let.”

 

 

 

This is The End

My only friend,

The End

 

Also Sprach Jim Morrison

 

 

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June 11, 2019

Betcha By Golly Wow Your Team’s Gonna Suck. Good Answer, Mimi, Good Answer.

Filed under: freak hands, huge earrings, Milford Idiots, Mimi Thorp, Pointy Fingers — tdrewhardin @ 2:44 pm

061119

So now, with the Conference Championship and the plot, as a result, on the line, Mimi meets Linda Carr out on Main Street in Tombstone for a showdown. Better make this good, Mimi, Wyatt Earp is at The Tombstone Bucket downin’ a hard one (you know how Bucket Hard Cider Shakes can affect the large intestine) and the Clanton Boys are pointin’ a gun at the sock hop cuz The Bucket still ain’t got its Liquor License. They likely to shoot first and ask questions later. What happens when you don’t take “no” for an answer.

 

Betcha by golly wow

That your team is gonna hit the pits

Forever

 

Betcha by golly wow

That we’ll suffer through another blitz

Of volleyball

 

The group of choice, The Stylistics. They have always been one of my favorites. I dunno, that falsetto voice with a chorus behind him, plus catchy melodies that go for the throat. They got my respect and have for decades.

 

If yore volleyball team goes through another losin’ campaign cuz yore setter don’t know how ta spike a cow bladder over a clothesline and yore server scratches over the second grease stain that demarkates the dimenshuns of the volleyball court, ya might be a redneck.

 

And now I’m confused. I know that Linda was with a traveling volleyball team and that she wanted to go for the gold, literally and figuratively, by hooking up with the big boys rather than accept a full ride scholarship at Milford Community College and play volleyball there.

Fair enough. I’d say a bit overambitious but she’s a teenager learning about life. I get the feeling she will know where she stands in the grand scheme of things.

But now we have Mimi rattling off teams I have never heard of and I’m bettin’ the readership never heard of, the reasons almost having to do with Mimi convincing Linda to, what?, go full bore with the softball team? Convince her that being Michael Jordan on Milford Community College could land her as an early round draft pick in the National Volleyball Association? That Australians know more about kangaroos and dingoes than they do about volleyball? That her volleyball career is gonna crash-and-burn on Ayers Rock if she doesn’t find new friends and quit hanging around the volleyball thugs? I’m sure things will start to unfold and the Finger Math lessons that Mimi took at the Symposium for Teachers With LD in Mathematics in the interim are paying off in P1. Look at her using the Enumeration Method, reducing those volleyball teams to a status equivalent to a group of church members playing pick-up volleyball at the 4th of July picnic at Milford Park. I’ll never try to spike it down the music minister’s throat after Mimi has reduced volleyball to ashes.

Just don’t let those volleyball thugs spray paint YOUR volleyball net or badminton net, if the former is still in the garage and is buried somewhere under the riding mower, in your front yard. Might wanna call the Sonitrol man on that one.

 

There’s a spark of ennui before my eyes

Apathyland appears so bad, I cry

Never thought this fairy tale would cease

Mimi’s calculator endows me with state of peace

This plot’s “Police Squad” in disguise

Full of bull that’s homogenized

 

Betcha by golly wow

Linda will go back and spike it up Gil’s derriere

Betcha by golly wow

Mimi will be watching, learning to design another play

 

Ooooooooookkkkkkkkk, so before we leave P1, I’m still not satisfied with who these teams are that Mimi is listing, though I THINK they’re the local yokels Rockville will be playing in their quest for another conference title and, perhaps, Linda’s chance at a spot on the U.S. Olympic team.

“Yeah, sure, I think the Pirates have a chance at the NL East Title if they can get “Pops” Stargell off the DL. And with Trout and Sutcliffe, the Cubs ought to be right there with them. Man, speaking of Mudlarks in the dumpster, why did the Cardinals EVER trade Hernandez???? That was worse than the Carlton-for-Gil trade. I think Dr. Pearl was the GM at the time. What did they get in return??????  Henry “Hank” Finkel, Joe Sharkey, and a bunch of volleyballs. Yeah, I know the Cardinals are stingy with their money but look what happened. Finkel went on to the Celtics where he continued his Off-The-Bench-When-The-Team-Needs-A-Body-When-The-Starters-Lose-Interest status, Joe lost his fingers trying to catch one of Hernandez’s line drives, or was it Silent George Hendrick, and what are they gonna do with a bunch of volleyballs?????? Watch Ozzie do flips over them between innings??????? And Hernandez won another World Series. Linda, stick to water polo.”

Boy, finger math does wonders, doesn’t it? Fred MacMurray was onto something.

 

If I could catch a falling volleyball

To throw at some random player’s head, big or small

Order rainbows in my favorite shade

To show this plot ends, that it will fade

Write it off as bas nouvelle

Anything but a prized Nobel

 

Betcha by golly wow

It’s the one we hope will ride to Mars forever

Betcha by golly wow

And always will our hate for it keep growin’ strong

Keep growin’ strong

 

 

Now it’s bad enough that P2 is representative of the Frida Kahlo collection that is gracing our comic strip today but do I have to get Robmize mad at me by continuing discussion of trades like what is going on in P2? Okay, Linda, the Cubs shouldn’t have traded Lou Brock and wound up on the Australian National Team but the Cubs needed cash, some pitching and a right-handed setter with power. Perfect with that wind blowing out.

Linda is perhaps playing one card too many and I think that is where Mimi is going with this. Well, she had the volleyball schedule of the National League East down cold, give her credit. I’ll bet she even knew Lee Smith’s ERA. Hey, gotta be in the know when you’re trying to close it out with Rose (Wind blew out to right also, Rose a switch hitter, yes, I’m onto that) , Bench, and Morgan in the lineup WITH that wind blowing out. Still, Mimi is desiring Linda to ride on Trigger and ride off into the sunset, the sun shaped like a Spalding volleyball, then dismount off the horse and get her ass over to the softball complex. It might get a bit more complex (pardon the pun) than that, but that HAS to be the gist of it. We’ll know if there’s no volleyballs or horse chips in the dugout.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Brian Eno And Herb Alpert To Colloborate On ‘Volleyball Fusion In Tijuana’ At Milford Memorial Coliseum!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Eno points out acoustics of bouncing volleyballs and synthesizers works perfectly at his venue, particularly on ‘Zorba the Greek’.”

 

Linda, Linda, please listen to me, says Mimi in P3. Not only are your fingers shaped like Ore Ida Fries like mine, you really shouldn’t bet on volleyball. The odds makers don’t read page 4 of the Milford Scoreboard to see who won between Milford and Oakwood (“Milford won in 5 sets. Joe, go to a phone. Tell the OTB guys, Milford with a 2 1/2 spread on New Thayer. Hey, the Mudlarks are the home team!!!”) and we need you for this Tournament. Plus, I’d like to put my hands down. Edward Scissorshands is due to show up anytime and he’s been flirting with me. I’ve tried to tell him that I’m married to Gil but he keeps insisting that my Ore Ida Crinkle Cuts look sexy, especially soaked in Palmolive. Can you just say yes and skip the Jimmy the Greek tripe?

Hell, no. I like my Casual Bud Powell “April in Paris” attire that accompanies my corn dog appendages and I need to find a way to stretch P3 into a topographical nightmare because P4 would get a grievance filed by the  Amalgamated Printer’s Union. Betcha by golly wow, I might even sing another Stylistics tune like “Stone in Love With You” or Break Up To Make Up.” It can fit.

 

 

You know, with all this talk of volleyball and softball and newcomball and hopscotch and squash and Lordy knows what else Linda McCartney is involved in, we sometimes forget that people die.

Hi, this is Dr. Pearl, on behalf of Milford Funeral Solutions. That is what happened to me recently as my second-cousin-twice-removed-uncle-cum-father-in-law passed away at the Milford Senior Care Center. His life was full, having been the oldest Civil War Veterans, fighting for the Union in the 171st Wisconsin Corps of Engineers. Somebody had to build the bridge across the Mississippi to lead the charge against Pemberton at Vicksburg. He was rewarded with a fine pension but, MacArthur was wrong. Old soldiers do die. He may have digested his 1,000,000th Big Mac by the time he croaked but they still meet their Waterloo.

The people at Milford Funeral Solutions understand that with a peoples’ non-stop, hectic, go-go, seat-of-the-pants schedules, that they are surprised when one of their relatives dies. Land o’ Goshen, when I learned that Lieutenant Wilfred B. Harrington bit the big one at the Senior Center, I was at a staff meeting discussing ways to cut costs on the repairs of the football team buses. When they slipped the note, someone thought I was thinking about the expenditures on the Alison transmission that put us over budget.

That’s where care and compassion and a good casket that doesn’t cost as much as that transmission comes into the picture. They showed me the adjustable reclining board where he was laying in state to set my mind at ease. It’s important when he’s being embalmed because I have bad images of Elmer’s Glue being applied to his scalp and eyeballs, not to mention Canola oil being applied to his body to keep blood, semen, mucus, etc. from needlessly seeping out and damaging the merchandise, even if it’s dead merchandise. A dead Sears Die Hard battery deserves a decent burial, complete with minister to spread the ashes.

And after all the embalming and he is airlifted from the board to the casket, it’s nice that he will get a nice viewing with his arms folded the proper way. The last funeral home shoved my father’s hands in his pocket and he not only cut himself with the Boy Scout knife but the suit ripped. Try explaining to a dead man why his seersucker has a hole in his crotch. Embarrassing.

AND Milford Funeral Solutions was voted “#1 Funeral Home in Milford” by a reader’s poll in Milford Today. When they can lay my relative’s sword and engineering tools, straightedge included, so that they can be buried in one fell swoop so that the casket door can close smoothly, all at a fraction of the cost of the other funeral homes in Mudlarkland COMBINED, you have a business that will keep growing. No argument from the gravediggers.

Come to Milford Funeral Solutions today. And to show how badly they want your business, if your uncle or mother-in-law, etc. dies this month, they will pay for the funeral notice in the Milford Enquirer. Why go through the pointless worry of how many grandchildren Grandpa Thorp had when Milford Funeral Solutions can do the Finger Math? Just bring the ad that is printed on the Internet, download it, and your troubles are over. No more concern of whether your aunt was from New Thayer or Madison.

Isn’t it time you lay your troubles to rest along with that sword? That was fool’s gold anyhoo, I understand. An alchemist’s dream. Come to Milford Funeral Solutions and put Excalibur 6 feet under.

 

Gang, comment away. I still think Lou Brock can help the Lady Mudlarks win the softball tournament. Speed on the basepaths is important.

 

 

“No!!!!!!!! Don’t fold Gil’s grandpa’s arms like that!!!!!!!!! He looks like an accordion!!!!!!!!!!”

June 7, 2019

I’m firing that pig!

Well so much for Animal Farm being a difference maker in this storyline. That pig must be rolling his eyes as he rolls in the mud reading this strip. We’re back down that long slippery slope to nothing. Its so bad you wonder whether this strip was intended to run a week ago, before the book assignment. And Rubin forgot about it and is just now running it, so out of sequence is the mindset of the characters. Maybe Molly threw in the towel about her synchronized skating  (and for that matter the softball team) and is just enjoying her role in life as the president of the Tool Cool Club. Who the hell is this committee anyway? I cant believe any high school male would get that excited about getting a button like that. And does Tyler even know about this TC shit? His first question should be — ‘What committee?’

Even Molly’s logic is flawed. Hey — writing screenplays is a BYPRODUCT of ones education, just like doing a science project is a byproduct of getting schooled in science and Applying that knowledge. So it aint too cool for school. TC buttons should go to kids who are so cocky they dont want to learn whats being taught and put the effort into the process. These 2 guys dont qualify at all– but Molly is such a fuckin dimwit she cant tell the difference. And she ordered more badges– I know the first batch was 50, so we will have 100 Milford students walking around campus on June 10 when everyone else is working on their summer tan, with these silly things that will be forgotton as soon as the next storyline commences. As some Spanish guy said -De Sooner De Better.

June 6, 2019

Moral Of This Story: Animals Should Leave The Sale Of Buttons To Ol’ McDonald.

Filed under: Just plain sad, Milford Idiots, Mimi Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 8:44 am

060619

Teamwork Good. Button-Selling Bad.

Well, let’s not get hasty here. Me, for what it’s worth, talking about buttons ad nauseum in a game when the focus should be on THE GAME no question cost them a win.

And I know Mimi is trying to prove a point but ordering Classics through Milford Book-of-the-Month Club and passing out a leather-bound volume that was once read by Woodrow Wilson when he was relaxing at the end of the day in his pipe and slippers after a long bitter day of negotiations concerning the League of Nations in the name of teachable moments is simply outta here. Take charge, Mimi, and leave the Bull Moose Party out of it.

 

We were lost

In doubt

Pissed and steamed

That this tale

Went further south

 

We were lost

In doubt

With buttons being shipped

Obscure and duty-free across the coastline

 

This sale is bigger than the both of us

It’s bigger than the women’s gym

We were lost

In doubt

Petrified at the travesty

And impulsive whims

 

Gang, I remember when Paul Westhead was coaching the Lakers back in the late ’70’-early ’80’s and they had just acquired Magic Johnson (who BTW hated that moniker and responded better to his preferred Buck or Earvin, the latter being his real name) through the Draft.

Westhead was not on the greatest relationship with his players anyway and when Magic stepped in, in fairness, he did defuse much of the heat directed at Westhead, though he really wasn’t wild about his coaching ideas as well. Never one to question coaches, even I still raised an eyebrow when Westhead was trying to implement complex, half-court schemes on a team that was built to run. A team with Michael Cooper, Jamaal Wilkes, and Earvin Johnson would do that. Though they won in 1980 with those same ideas, it not being all gloom and doom, they were unceremoniously bounced out of the Playoffs the next year by a Houston Rocket team that included Moses Malone, whose early entrance into pro ball was finally paying off and his stock was ever-rising. Tenacious rebounding and dominant, well-timed, sometimes-out-of-nowhere shot-blocking had a way increasing in value on the free market.

Anyway, in a crucial game where Westhead has everyone in the huddle, he designed a play where it was just pretty basic, Folks. Magic, throw the ball into Kareem, and Kareem, you dunk it or do your sky-hook, ball game. Okay, good enough.

But then, Westhead pulls Magic over to the side. Magic, unaware of what Westhead has on his mind NOW, found himself listening to Westhead quote Shakespeare (Westhead being a HUGE fan of The Bard)

“Earvin, If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well/It were done quickly.”

Say what?

“Coach, you DO want me to lob it down low to Kareem, right?”

 

Well, I had a “Say what?” moment this morning as Mimi was continuing her over-extended teachable moment with an analogy that, and I’m really trying to be as nice as Magic was to Westhead, really fell flat on its face.

First off, Mimi, you’re right. In “Animal Farm”, the Oppressed did indeed become the Oppressors, a point George Orwell was attempting to drive home in relation to the Soviet Union. Once manhandled by the Tsars down through the ages, Stalin wasn’t much better, slaughtering indiscriminately in the name of Freedom. And it wasn’t just Stalin.

But that’s where we part company. At no time did I think our eager-beaver button-selling duo were ever exploiting the masses through the sale of said merchandise or being expoited themselves. Yes, what turned out to be a nifty motivational tool to boost team morale went awry, the same way the Hippo Concept did, our Hippo Hero getting practically thrown into the dumpster when it didn’t win the 1960 World Series. Yeah, Bill Mazeroski, you heel. Way to leave the poor pachyderm to rot in the junk pile after you put it to the Yankees.

But I’m still scratching my head wondering where Mimi got the idea that that made them slave owners at The Tara. Boy, now I know where Gone With The Wind got its name. Teenagers being teenagers, they got swept up in an idea that could have used better judgment. It’s okay to recognize achievements, especially unusual ones. And they learned that not reining this one in cost them several things, including a ball game.

But Mimi, leave Rhett Butler back in West Virginia, which is where he came from and where he BELONGS. Slavery really wasn’t the issue here. No more “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”, puh-leeease. Nobody’s smuggling their TCFS button on the midnight Underground Raolroad.

Hey, I know. Next time go basic. How ’bout “The Little Train That Could”? Was really more apropos for a button-selling, under-confident and under-achieving team, anyway. As long as you’re not going to take charge and make ’em do the stairs, that’d be the first choice off the shelf at the Milford Public Library.

 

And, not surprisingly, Westhead was fired after the season. Anybody who remembers Jerry Buss, owner of the Lakers, knew he was the George Steinbrenner of the NBA, i.e., quick to pull the trigger on a coach if that poor soul was not up to Buss’ standards or mood, for that matter. Buss did a mercy-killing on this one. Thank God, Mimi didn’t dish out “The Last of the Mohicans” to Magic or Kareem.

“Kareem, if the sky hook isn’t falling, you could disappear like some of our Native Americans did when the white man began to settle.”

“Mimi, I want to see you in my office. NOW.”

 

Timbuys, your Kinks video inspired me. You gave me a brilliant idea. Sung to The Kinks’ “Lost and Found”

 

The baseball season’s out to lunch

A hurricane hit it and sent it to Seychelles

No double plays or infield flies

The tide just swept it and swirled it straight to Hell

 

And Captain Elbert Thorp

Said shiver me timbers

Focus now on making putts

Guys, get loose and limber

 

We were lost

In doubt

Golf awaits

Leave your glove at home

We were lost

In doubt

Take a drop

There’s no more sliding into home

 

This crap is bigger than the both of us

It’s really reeked a smelly pace

Batting donuts are a rare commodity

Dunkin’ Donuts came and took its placcccceeeee

 

Guitar solo from Dave Davies. Best in the business. Thank God, Marty and his ukulele are at Mudlark Lake Resort with Peaches. I shudder to think.

 

Ol’ McDonald had a farm

E-I-E-I-O

And on this farm, he raised some ‘Larks

E-I-E-I-O

With some Buttons, Buttons here

And some Buttons, Buttons there

Buttons in the slop

Buttons in the john

Buttons in the chaw

Buttons in the stall

Some in hen’s eggs

Some in goats legs

Ol’ McDonald was in the sling

E-I-E-I-O

 

Well, needs a little polish but what children’s song showed up on Billboard Hot 100 the first week? It takes a while to wind up on Casey Kasem’s desk.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Marty Moon Defends Rate Hike At The Warehouse At City Council Meeting!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Between a tall boy and riding Trigger, I think you know my preferences.”

 

Assuming that we’re still in the gym, the light in P1 too far away to be the Communist Debriefing Room in the M. C. Escher wing of Milford High School, we now confront the hangdog mien that is Molly and Nancy in P2.

Really, is this something Ward Cleaver is gently putting Wally and Beaver through the rinse cycle over at the end of the show? I can only imagine the premise at the beginning.

“Ward, would you talk to Beaver? He threatened to punch Eddie Haskell’s lights out if he didn’t wear a ‘Red Scare Rules!!!!’ button at school. He has Lumpy Rutherford in tears because he won’t show off his ‘TCFC’ lapel.”

“Of course. I have a sales convention in Honolulu to attend but should be able to catch the red-eye flight back to Milford and give him a heart-to-heart talk by the end of the show. BTW, what does ‘TCFC’ mean?”

“I think the kids are saying ‘Too Cool For Communism.”

 

“Gosh, Beav, when Dad finds out you stuck a frog down Polly’s butt because she wouldn’t wear a ‘Stalin Sucks’ button on her dress, you’re gonna get clobbered.”

 

“Uh, Beaver, I think you owe Polly and Lumpy an apology. And I want no more of this button business. You’re old enough not to shove anti-Communism ideals down people’s throats. Leave that to Nixon.”

“Gosh, Dad, you’re right. I’ll go tell them I’m sorry. From now on, I won’t force ‘Eisenhower Is Too Soft On Mao’ unless they ask.”

“Well, the trip from Oahu to Milford was worth it after all. Come on, what say we hit The Bucket for a Bucket Root Beer Float? And some Bucket Garlic Cheese Fries?”

“Gee, Dad, you’re the greatest.”

 

Okay, okay, if you can conjure up any better methods to address the sourpuss status in P2, I’m open for suggestions.

Then there’s the word “Lite”. How in the name of Wilfred Funk did that crawl into the English language with that kind of usage? Now, I THINK it is being emoloyed as a suffix, much like we’ve attached the word “-gate” to suggest a scandal big or small. Y’know, from the word “Watergate”, the hotel where Nixon engineered the infamous break-in to wiretap a slew of Democrats. I think we’re safe to not call this latest caper “Button-gate” (yet) , and we have the Bud Lite distribution and discussion to thank for that.

So now, Molly and Nancy will no longer pour Miller Lite in their 2% Milford Dairy Milk carton to calm their nerves before the game or they’ll be runnin’ laps in the gym. That’s fair. I think Mimi has a firm-lite grip on the situation, what do you think?

“Molly, I can smell  your breath in the 3rd row. Did you pour Michelob Lite down your Yoo-Hoo again? Gimme 20 around the horn.”

 

If ya poured a fifth of Jack in yore Hawaiian Punch right before the SAT exam ta handle the stress and ya managed ta hang on ta yore #2 pencils and calkylator, not ta mention slip past the proctor so that ya eventually scored high on the Verbal, ya might be a redneck.

 

We were lost

In doubt

Wondering what

Mimi plans to do with all these buttons

 

We were lost

In doubt

Just in time

For the Customs boat to raid them

Off the coastline

 

It appears we are tying up loose ends in P3. Molly Hatchet and her Amazing Technicolor Trapezoidal Butt is evidently bent on making amends and following George Harrison’s advice to use the power provided, free to everyone. This is love, you know. The button says so. Another one says “‘Cloud Nine’ is a Killer Album”. I told Molly to print that one after she snubbed me the first time. Hey, plugging The Beatles and The Rolling Stones for 50 years counts for something, as long as we’re making restitution.

Anyway, Tyler is going to get his Gideon Bible like he should have gotten in the dresser drawer at the Milford Marriott and we can just move onto summer. Not holding my breath, but at least the Gideon Bible is annotated. Last one was printed by Archie & The Gang and you know how Jughead Jones cuts corners just so he can leave early out the back for a burger down at Pop’s Choklit Shoppe.

 

“You know, when I see a kid ridin’ Buddy Budweiser here at Milford Beverage Warehouse, my cup runneth over. That’s why when The Bucket flares up with libelous statements and false charges, it makes me want to grab the Budweiser Clydesdales and run over anybody not nailed to a booth who’s in the middle of a Bucket Triple Decker.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for the Warehouse. And I’m here to set the record straight. Yes, at the City Council meeting, someone DID propose a User Fee for the horse. But that came from a regular patron, Marty Moon, not us. In fact, when we found out, we were livid. And it was for 75 cents, not the $1.00 that the absentee owner of The Bucket suggested. He’s dyslexic and apparently got the Consumer Price Index mixed up.

Either way, Marty should know better. Proposing a rate hike on a kiddie horsee just to keep The Beer Institute from lobbying against higher taxes on his prized Falls City just about beats all. Marty’s always been a headline-grabber but competing with The Beer Institute for good press in the Milford Enquirer just to eventually promote his show shows you can’t always have your Falls City Dark and drink it too.

Gosh, darn, we are ready to fight back against the dark side. We know our patronage is very educated and literate. After hiring Gallup Polls to run a survey, we found that 53% of our customers have at least a college degree and that 81% overall graduated from high school. Throw in the 37% that matriculated from Milford Vocational and Technical Institute, and by gum, you have an army that can read the warning label on the back of a Cutty Sark. Shoot, I’m personally proud of a man who has a Master’s in Refrigerator Technology and Logistics who can buy a Louis L’Amour at our magazine rack in the Daiquiri Aisle.

So Milford Book-of-the-Month Club has joined forces in its fight for a more enlightened citizenry by offering you a special deal. If you sign up for a membership in the Book Club between now and July 4th, the Warehouse will give you half off your next purchase of your favorite 12-pack.

Boy o boy, Michelob Ultra, was 23.99, now slashed to a dozen simoleons and the FedEx dude delivering James Fennimore Cooper? I’ll have plenty of ice in the cube tray.

And Miller High Life, at 19.99 a pop and  T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Songs of J. Alfred Prufrock” will most surely go together when I’m on the hammock after a long day at the links, shootin’ one too many Topflites in the lake.

Or if you’re a Bud Man, you can be like Harry and pretend to say “Cubs Win!!!!!! Cubs Win!!!!!!” while slurping on a Bud at a laughble $11.00. Shoot, that’s like having 6 free Buds with a “Lady Chatterly’s Lover” in your bosom. Harry would have been proud.

But these deals won’t do no good until you come on down and see for yourself. Bring your photo ID, your thirst, and your dictionary, in that order so you can do so readin’ and rockin’. C’mon, did you ever try to read “The Pickwick Papers” while trying to scoop some Bucket o’ Marinaded Shrimp down at The Bucket? Our Absentee Landowner not only can’t get his facts straight, he gets Bucket Lasagna all over the pages of “War and Peace.” And the stains don’t come out of the leather bookbinding.

And when you have that “How The West Was Won” and a Drury’s in the checkout lane, tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

Gang, it’s your turn. I’m hangin’ my  head over this plot. So what else is new?

 

At the International Date Line

“Commodore, we have an interesting case. Plenty of swordfish and “Oakwood Bites” in the trawler. Think we should call HQ?”

June 5, 2019

Going Dutch at the Coffee Cantina?

gt06052019

Here at TWIM we’ve pretty much concluded Milford is in Michigan. While it’s true Michigan has some Dutch influences, I totally did not expect the Coffee Cantina to turn into a full-blown Amsterdam coffeeshop overnight. Had to run with the color version to confirm that the brownie was indeed a brownie. You know it’s a great brownie when you haven’t even taken a bite out of it. Contact high much?

Everyone (including myself) who had written Linda off as a loser who was willing to turn down a volley scholly because she wasn’t yet Olympian material can just hold that thought, at least for today. Skipping practice doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve given up on your sport (remember Allen Iverson?).

The less said about Mimi’s heavy-handed Animal Farm assignment, the better. I’m also disappointed that Mimi didn’t run ’em till they puked before convening Book Club, but if it leads to Molly and Nancy giving Linda a TCFS button for skipping volleyball practice to eat a hash brownie at the Coffee Cantina, I can live with it.

June 1, 2019

Barely Legal – I mean, Barely 100 Pages

gt06012019

Amazing how Mimi looks no older than her players now, innit?

It struck me a little odd yesterday that Mimi addressed her question to the team as a whole before singling out Molly and Nancy for the reading assignment.  Also odd that she mentioned Orwell during practice on Thursday but then the assignment comes after a game.  If this isn’t a continuity error on Rubin’s part, then shouldn’t we have seen time elapse between the practice and the game – time enough for the girls to wonder whether George Orwell was TCFS? (“He’s that freshman who made a big splash in Debate Club, right?”)

Hang in there, TWIM faithful. This has been a disappointing ride but it should be coming to an end soon. Tune in on Monday when Molly and Nancy ask each other, “So which one of us is the pig?”

May 31, 2019

Beasts of Milford

gt05312019

Beasts of Milford, Beasts of Milford,
Mark the baselines out with lime,
Hearken to my doleful tidings
As I put this crap to rhyme.
‘Cause of skating (or of blogging?)
Linda Carr left on her own,
No one likes to play a scrimmage
In the infield all alone.
Okay to have outside interests,
So said Nancy, that was that.
Then we started winning ballgames,
Then we got these awesome hats.
Then we thought that we were hot shit,
Then we were “too cool for school,”
Celebrating all our interests
Kinda turned us into tools.
Bright will shine our spirit buttons,
And to earn one will be sweet,
Sweeter yet to watch kids grovel
For our praise and at our feet.
For that praise now they must labour,
And it is for us to judge;
Band geeks, scholarsstamp collectors,
Didn’t get one? Hold no grudge.
Beasts of Milford, Beasts of Milford,
Are we guilty of a crime?
Now we’re stuck with weekend reading
So much for our leisure time.

(apologies Orwell but hey, we didn’t drag you into this)

May 29, 2019

Voice of Harold

Filed under: Chunky Bracelets, Gil Thorp, Milford Idiots, Mimi Thorp, softball, TCFS — teenchy @ 7:09 am

gt05292019

As a rule I try to stay away from political and religious references in my posts, but heaven knows Mimi’s exhortation to “be best” tempts me.  Suffice it to say I won’t be surprised if Linda ends up joining the Army.  You know you’re half-assing it when Gil, master of not doing his best work, gives you the stink eye.

Meanwhile the root cause of the late unpleasantness, synchronized skater/second baseperson Molly Hatchet, adds ventriloquism to her arsenal of TCFS skills.  Letting this thing spread beyond the softball team was bad enough and, granted, stamp collecting has never really been cool, but shooting down poor Harold by making him talk to the ball is just cruel.

Musical spoken word inspiration for today’s post.

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