The Baseball Season That Was, Until It Wasn’t.

Gang, are you as confused as I am right about now? As Ned mentioned yesterday, we have learned to live with one-size-fits-all school schedules at Milford High School for quite some time, allowing for graduation ceremonies to be sometime right after the Fourth of July, or maybe that was Burgers and Fries day in the cafeteria, Hell, I forget which.

So while we’re munching on a Quarter Pounder here in the cafeteria before 5th period chem lab and pursuing the class project Design an Atomic Bomb in 1000 Words or Less, Sheet Metal and Crayolas are Permissable, it is left to us to ponder what DID happen to the baseball season. One day, David Walter does an Ozzie Smith fielding job to help the Baseball Mudlarks save the day (and perhaps this strip from extinction) , the next day we have girls talking about hippos and buttons.

And we couldn’t even stay on topic with hippos. Okay, Jamila Moses had a good luck charm she liked better than the Cabbage Patch dolls at Milford Toys ‘R’ Us and, damn, the concept was working until Rally Pachyderm failed to deliver in the 9th and we had to send a hobbling Kirk Gibson to the plate. And to think, it could have been a hippo rounding the bases on that homer hit off of Dennis Eckersley, doin’ the chugging motion while rounding second base as Whitney Houston is somewhere in another dimdnsion accompanying the hippo with “One Moment in Time”. Ah, the gods can be cruel when it comes to fate.

Even the hats that Jocelynn Brown doled out weren’t spared the Black Hole that made everybody look like Dionne Warwick. So it was left to the buttons which have become a national obsession and have driven baseball out of Milford. I know, have Jocelynn dish out those hats for the baseball team, enabling those involved to retain a sense of community. Hey, I’m all for the baseball team and the softball team posing in a group photo wearing Bud Powell fezzes on their heads. We’d be back on-topic anyway. I’m confident there’s a fez that’ll fit Gil’s buffon perfectly.

Don’t you think it’s better than what we have NOW????? What was the point? If reading “Animal Farm” was supposed to be a motivational tool to promote teamwork and commitment and FOCUS, well, “4 legs good, 2 plots (or more) bad”.

“Studying the book wasn’t good enough. You were supposed to READ it. 50 laps around the gym, girl. And don’t let me catch you cuttin’ corners or you’ll start all over.”

Okay, okay, so Mrs. Vince Lombardi is not in Mimi’s genes at this point but we’re still left with more questions than answers after Mimi, appearing to be TAKING CHARGE the other day and still with a bit of urgency in her voice in P1, is leaving us on the edge of the cliff as to what the punishment, if any although I get a sick-gut feeling that is indeed in her bag of tricks this time. No more crack the whip only to find out the whip is just being used to hold the concession stand door on its hinges until a carpenter from the Milford Carpenter’s Union Local 808 comes Monday for much-needed repairs.

If ya harbor the same cast that appeared in Animal Farm: The Movie II-The Year We Make Contact in yore house by takin’ a shower with ’em, sleepin’ with ’em, goin’ to Milford Drive-In Cineplex with ’em, jug of buttered popcorn included, plus tax, lettin’ ’em do the cannonball in yore swimmin’ pool, lettin’ ’em use yore washer and dryer, and takin’ ’em out on a Friday to The Bucket cuz they got 4 Legs Get 1/2 Off On Selected Items On The Menu After 8:00PM Night, ya might be a redneck.

 

And before I leave P1, I WAS hoping Mimi would end this comedy of errors with some good old-fashioned discipline OF SOME SORT. Make ’em do laps, as mentioned. Smack their knuckles with a ruler. Restrict their diet in the cafeteria to only bread and water for a week.

But noooooooooooo, Nancy has to ask, because Pat Sajak isn’t saying, what she’s won. Milford gym has turned into Wheel of Fortune. If I read the entire book twice, epilogue included, that trip to Mudlark Lake Resort is in the bag.

“Marty, you animal. You’re taking no prisoners this time. And I thought this cabin was booked solid through September.”

“Simple, Peaches. One run-through of the “Annotated Version of How the West Was Won” and Vanna took care of the rest. She managed to convince the 90-year-old couple to shift their vacation to Holiday World in Santa Claus, Indiana. I got the keys on Monday.”

“Ohhhhhh, Marty, you know how to talk dirty.”

And how do you study for something with no test or quiz involved? Do you tell Mimi you were chanting “Hare Krishna” while reading the part about the horse getting shipped off to the glue factory? I know Molly is doing her best roundabout answer of I Didn’t Read The Damn Thing, Thank You Very Much. But make the alibi believable. Reciting mantras of “Clapton is God” while reading about pigs and sheep sending a mule to the guillotine on Bastille Day is really unnecessary.

Mimi, I think your strategy is backfiring.

And, believe me, I’m all for unusual motivational tools as long as they work. One year, Indiana University Men’s Basketball played so badly that Bob Knight told them they played like horse crap (confident that the language was stronger than that) and just flat-out said “You’re on your own.” A couple of rookies and some newer players were aghast that he would dump the team like this but Joe Hillman reacted as if this was no surprise. So he got Daryl Thomas to get the plane reservations and tickets (I think they were going to Minnesota) , Brian Sloan to call the hotel in Minneapolis for reservations, Steve Alford to call a couple of restaurants in Minneapolis to reserve a couple of tables, etc. Finally, everything is set up and rarin’ to go, and by the time they arrived in Minneapolis, they got off the plane and subsequently went as a team to the lobby, where Bob Knight proudly awaited. Coach Knight had made his point. Needless to say, they won the game that night against an excellent Minnesota Golden Gophers squad.

I am still waiting for Mimi to get off the plane.

 

“We now return to ‘Daily Living with Dave’.”

Certainly a far cry from “Double Plays from Dave “, which is not only as awkward as it sounds, we’re spared the agony of bad literary style because double plays for the baseball squad is about as frequent as double dips of Bucket Turnip Torte ice cream.

And I’m not liking him at home on a computer with street clothes on. This can only tell me he’s not been at the ball park in quite some time. Which means he must have been doing OTHER things. Now I think it’s stretching it to say he’s been Nordic skiing in Milford Natural Area. Gang, hate to break it to you but you’ll have to set your sights somewhat lower. Yeah, that’s right, he was in a pick-up basketball game in his driveway court with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Pippen couldn’t make it because he was sick with the flu.

So when Linda called, he had Kareem at H-O-R-S (“Bounce the ball off Gil’s hair, go through the loop of the chunky bracelet, bank it in.”) . And it makes me wonder, now that David is accounted for with no double plays up his sleeve, what Linda has on her mind. It doesn’t appear, due to the lack of scars, that Mimi sent her to the rack. But if we have to patronize the same saloon that Matt Dillon and Miss Kitty use Groupon coupons for, Mimi must have done something.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Suing Milford Beverage Warehouse After Nephew Thrown From Buddy Budweiser!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Penny caught in the slot chute, causing Buddy to buck, sending nephew 50 feet in front of the Modelo display.”

 

So now we anticipate, judging from P3, that Linda is going to get pissy-whiny-faced about the “punishment” Mimi must have doled out. I can’t imagine hanging around a bunch of Aussies that are thwarting your dream to be a U.S. Volleyball Olympian is really Paradise so being asked (not coerced, if we’re dealing in reality here) by Mimi to gracefully back away from a bunch of roughneck Crocodile Dundee’s so that you can concentrate on a sport that might land a scholarship and thereby doing something strange called “Paying for your Education” is clearly in order.

And Linda might live happily ever after if Sheriff Dillon didn’t have to deal with a shootout caused by one the Dalton boys drinking too much Blue Motha coffee. Kinda makes me wonder what kind of liqueur Miss Kitty spiked it with. Probably some cheap K-Mart Liquor special if it was only $2.15.

 

“Y’know, I just laugh when Coach Thorp takes shots at The Bucket, especially in its endeavors to procure a liquor license. His butt is showing out of his Haggar slacks if you believe some of the tall tales he’s been broadcasting.

Hi, this is the Absentee Owner of The Bucket. What he’s NOT telling you, because the Milford Courthouse Docket was not printed until after his latest ad was that there was a proposal on the table by the very owners of Milford Beverage Warehouse to raise the User Fee on Buddy Budweiser to $1.00 and to surcharge a value-added-tax on select brands of liquor, the latter of which to cover the costs of replacing the ‘B’ on Buddy’s saddle. If some patron discovered that he’s being charged extra on his case of Drewry’s to refurbish a fake Mr. Ed, I bet he’d have a cow. I don’t even want to think about the reaction from the wine connoisseurs when the more expensive Milford Valley Grape Deluxe gets blindsided with heavy tax increments.

But at The Bucket, we have our own riding horse, Bucky, and it is STILL only a penny. If the owners of The Warehouse want to pocket the extra money in the name of Uncle Sam just to finance their Rolls-Royce, that’s their perogative but tell the truth while you’re at it.

Because here at The Bucket, we still charge ’50’s prices because we’re still stuck in the ’50’s. We can go out on a limb in our quest for the Holy Grail and finally nail that Liquor Permit next to the First Dollar because ours isn’t a perfect world. Charging $1.00 for Bucket Triple Cheese and $.50 for Bucket French Fries and still be able to satisfy The Good People who desire The Good Life has long been a goal of The Bucket. And if they want to ride Bucky while they’re waiting for their Bucket o’ Marinaded Shrimp Combo, overflowing with shrimp, onion rings, and a tall boy of Bud Lite, who can blame them? Doesn’t a Michelob Dry taste better when delivered by a sock hop on roller skates with your order of White Meat Chicken Sandwich Combo, especially when you’re washin’ own the Bucket Buffalo Fries and a packet of Bucket Mac ‘n’ Cheese? Mmmm, mmmmm, good.

And this Saturday, as a way of expressing our thanks for over 60 years of your business, The Bucket will let all kids between the ages of 1 to 18 ride Bucky for free. That’s right, save that penny for the gumball machine later. Ride ’em, Cowboy and chow down on the menu at The Bucket. Wow, hope you don’t have plans on this exciting day.

But you won’t know until you ignore Gil and his cohort, Sonny Corleone. The way they both tell it, we’re only in it for the money. Yeah, that’s what happens when Honore Vashon is on the City Council. As if Milford and Steve McGarrett don’t have enough to worry about.

Either way, the door is open this Saturday. In fact, the only time our doors are closed is when we close at night.

Is there a message here? You decide.”

 

Gang, it’s all yours. I’m gonna try that Blue Motha coffee, remembering I have a post to do on Thursday. But I can afford $2.15. And I promise I’ll pay back my sister.

 

Gene Rayburn, thanks for stopping in. What’s the latest?

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought ‘Animal Farm’ as owned by a group of _________________.”

 

“Mr. Vashon, with all due respect, there’s no way The Bucket would survive on the island of Maui. Too many resorts and restaurants.”

“Ooohhhhhh, that’s where you’re wrong, McGarrett. We did a survey and found that The Bucket Sharkburger was 10 times better than Logan’s Steakhouse or the luaus on the island.”

 

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Mimi Does the Australian Crawl

You know what’s not cool, besides this plot? Wanting to be thought of as cool.

Mimi could easily defuse this sitch, if she only had a clue. First off, it’s not “what’s with you [Linda] and the Aussies,” it’s “what’s with you and this need to be cool?” Linda’s answer gets to the root of her problem – not so much the cool factor but her insecurities about playing volleyball. She earned a scholarship, that’s not enough? How does she know the Australian girls didn’t too? Low hanging fruit that could let this arc wrap up by next weekend…. but…

…the bigger problem is the TCFS thing and how far out of hand it’s gotten. If Mimi had actually been paying attention to her players and not daydreaming about drinks on the patio, she’d have picked up on this developing trend and put some guardrails around it. (The stuffed hippo on the bench would’ve been a good sign.) As it is the only rails to be seen – well, besides the ones at Barney’s Pub – are the ones the Lady Mudlarks’ season is going off. Mimi needs to get a handle on this stat. Good thing Molly’s waiting for her in the shower.

Today’s musical inspiration:

Land of the Free, Home of the Mud

Two high school girls power tripping on who they get to include and exclude from their clique? One high school girl practically begging to be let into their clique then getting pissy when they don’t let her? Riveting reading!

Just you wait: Linda will have her revenge! She’s gonna tank the season for the Lady Mudlarks. Kind of ironic given that we’re coming up on the centennial of the Black Sox scandal.  Staring into the bleachers is her prearranged signal to Arnold Rothstein that the fix is in (or is it switching her glove from her right to her left hand?). Pity she didn’t time that a little better; that sharply hit ground ball off her toe is gonna ruin her meal ticket out of this tank town.

Without that volleyball scholly to fall back on, Linda will be doomed to stay in Milford and stew about things that happened to her in high school for the rest of her life. Maybe she can spit in the brisket when she’s waiting the mean girls’ tables at Bob’s BBQ.

A rare glimpse of the Milford mascot atop the scoreboard there. Let’s blow it up so we can get a better look.

More like a turkey than a lark, the better to fit this plot.

The Color Of Buttons

RIGHT OFF THE BAT I am going to abbreviate this damn thing so that this does not become a Looney Tune anvil around ANYONE’s neck. Yosemite Sam is allowed to sink to the bottom of Davy Jones’ Locker, or deep enough to scare the shit out of you but not deep enough to convince you he’s really going to disappear and fight Daffy Duck beyond the Pearly Gates. He’s going after Bugs for Round 2, trust me. The rest of us would rather not get hung at high noon with acronyms.

So instead of Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat is too cool for The Pharaoh and Milford High School Campaign for Jesus, I condensed it to TCFS (Too Cool for School) . I wanted to make the “S” stand for the one that comes after “B”, but some idiot might get the wrong idea and declare “This causes Fungal Bacterial Symptoms and thusly, the “B” was omitted.

Now let’s get down to cases. Are we dealing with school buttons or 5-stud poker?????

“I’ll see your TCFS pledge button on your wim-wim for being Patrol Boy of the Month and raise you 2 jack of diamonds and a TCFS smiley face and a Good Job button by Wal-Mart and Dr. Pearl in the same week.”

 

BIG shout-out to Sharon Dow of Louisville, Kentucky for her impressive dedication to her job here at University of Louisville Hospital. She has waited on me hand and foot and has made my stay here a VERY easy way to go. I can tell she really cares about people as shown by her walking a patient down the hallway, monitoring every step of the patient. I am very proud to say that she keeps a clean house and that patients are the better for it. The ICU unit she is on would be less were she not around. Next time you see her, treat her with respect. She’s earned mine, and then some.

 

Gang, this Twilight Zone backdrop in P1 works in Dagwood (technically named Blondie), it works in Wee Pals, kiddies discussing the NATO question with those bongo drums (or congas, forgot to check my Funk-Wagnalls) from the Zone pulsating in the background, Hell, Mary Worth with her atomic bomb of advice was made for white canvasses but it just falls flat on its face in Thorpiverse. Where do they go once they are trapped in a dimension of sight, a dimension of sound???? Down to The Bucket for a Bucket Clam Burgoo? Sure, Rod Serling is down there now with his endless supply of Pall Malls, discussing their Sisyphean fate while taking an occasional drag FROM his Pall Mall after sampling, of course, The Bucket 3-Course Sampler (Bucket Lasagna, Bucket Fettucine, Bucket Child’s Plate Spaghetti) . Can’t discuss heavy semi-philosophical issues on an empty stomach.

 

Marty Moon at the Milford Lounge one night

“Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo, doo doo…”

“Why are they playing the Twilight Zone theme from the jukebox???”

“I don’t know, Marty, but this white karma is giving me hot flashes. Let’s blow this joint so I can blow something else, Big Boy…”

“Hell, no, what would Peaches think???? I got standards, y’know!!!!!”

Suddenly, the congas explode.

 

If ya and yore 4-wheel drive wind up on the planet Mars cuz yore jumper cables didn’t know how to handle the overcharge from all the whiteness emanatin’ from yore glove box, ya might be a redneck.

 

And what is this about our ambitious hero in P1???? Granted, I admire his drive therefore, dammit, give the guy a button and be done with it. It’s not cheapening the product if a person is trying to better himself/herself. I think the problem is assuming that it’s going to wind up on Spielberg’s or Capra’s desk in the near future.

On the set of “It’s a Wonderful Life”.

“Mr. Capra, some kid just gave me a 2500-word essay “How I Enjoyed My Summer in Bedford Falls.”

 

After talking to timbuys while spacily watching Steven Segal shoot a googolplex (did I spell that right????) of Chicanos, Chinese, Rhode Island Reds, blacks, KKK members, the entire population of the Show Me State, Eskimos (guess they got Uzi’s stored in their closets back at their igloos) , Liechtensteiners, Luxembourgeois, Miserable Fat Belgium Bastards, and Santa’s reindeer to rescue his wife and kids from the dentist’s office on the 86th floor of an abandoned equivalent to the Empire State Building

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Gil And Rambo Outlast 50,000 Vietcong Guerillas In OT In ‘Rambo’s Tet Offensive Revisited In Mudlark Gym’!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Jerry Pulver leading scorer with his Remington; Thorp agrees to drop academic eligibility charges.”

 

THEN The Hand from Dark Shadows makes a comeback in P2. No way, Jose, says The Hand. If you want to earn a Good Job button from Wal-Mart, you have to do a better job of stocking the frozen aisle, I mean, Eggo Waffles and Marie Callender Texas Toast have to be on the shelves at the crack of dawn, not to mention Boston Market Cholesterol-Free Turkey Breast ‘n’ Mashed Potatoes have to be zoned better in aisle 2. Oh, and write “Treasure Island” before the delivery truck full of Stouffers gets here at midnight.

Way to take charge, Hand. Who says you only scare people????? You lead by example. And ya got a Good Job button in the bargain.

Finally, there’s P3. Omigod. WHAT other comic strip contains people in dire need of reshaping their trapezoidal butts??? Do you ever see Linus and Luycy shakin’ that octagonal thang around??? When did you EVER see Herb Woodley walk over to Dagwood’s place with geometric inconsistencies ftrom his derriere??????? You factor in the 45-degree lines from the backstop in sync with the dugout fencing and this is a wonderful Cubist painting from somebody trying to get a TCFS button (missed your calling, Mr. Eager Beaver Screenwriter) but art connoiseurs really need to eschew Thorpiverse. And we’re STILL talking TCFS buttons up to First Pitch???? Bet they don’t have their game favces on.

 

“Folks, sometimes life doesn’t always make the easy lay-up and send the game into OT. That’s when you shake the hand of Lou Grant, pull yourselfup by the jock strap and head to the Socker, er, LOCKER room, your Jimmy Chitwood Doesn’t Always Make The 15-Footer So That STATE CHAMPS Appears On The Town Water Tower 47 Years Later speech on 2 3 x 5 index cards in right hand.

That’s what I had to do recently when my cholesterol reading was worse thanmy bowling average, not to mention my golf score on one hot August night on the back nine at Milford Country Club.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse. Trust me, it was no fun being transported to Milford General because my a-fib was acting up from too many  $5 Grande Scramblers at Milford Taco Bell. Do you honestly believe I enjoyed laying in a hospital bed listening to Hazel the Maid plug Dos Equis for the Warehouse??? Mr. Baxter, her boss, singing the praises of Milford Beer Nuts Lime and a fifth of Jack??? Now I knlw what Purgatory will sound like when I cross the Charon.

And I’m gettin’ a sneakin’ suspicion that the Warehouse was onto that so they are willing to rectify the situation that’ll cause Otis the Drunk to engineer an Andy Dufresne. And who can blame Otis the Drunk for wading through a Milford sewer line to get these door-busters????

Yep, the Warehouse will give you a free bag of Idaho’s Best French Fries for every $20 of booze you purchase. Ummm,ummmm, I can just savor ’em now, the fries I mean. You don’t put Falls City in the oven, silly, unless you ARE Otis the Drunk.

How ’bout a lip-smackin’ combo of Idaho’s Best Crinkle-Free, Ice-Brewed Fries, topped with Arby’s Famous Horse Radish, washin’ it down with a refreshing cold, krausened Budweiser? Or if some of you commie pinkos like different, try Idaho’s Best Tater Tots ‘n’ Heinz Gluten-Free Ketchup with a glass of Maker’s Mark Hand-Tossed Bourbon, aged since General Braddock gave the order for General Washington to attack Fort Pitt. Yummy, yummy, yuumy, I got love in my tummy; talk about Pavlov’s Dog salivating when he hears the door bell.

But then some of you wine-and-cheese crowd people might prefer Marini & Rossi Pink Chablis Merlot 90 Proof Sparkling and Bubbling non-Biodegradable White Apertif with a generous bowl of Idaho’s Best Honey ‘n’ Garlic Long-Cut, pre-Baked Hash Browns. And watch Dickie V. on Big Monday break down the Carolina-Duke rivalry???? Where’s the remote????

And you can save even more money as Groupon has partnered with the Warehouse to slash the first trip to the Warehouse to a $10 purchase if you’ll purchase at least 3 Snickers bars or 5 Kit Kats as the Warehouse is cleanin’ house. Rumors were abundant that a 3 Musketeers bar and a Cutty Sark simply wasn’t the snack of choice while watching your favorite NFL team so Groupon is leading the charge on this fire sale.

As soon as you have visited yours truly at Milford General, come check out these great buys at The Milford Beverage Warehouse. You’ll have done your good deed for the day and you can live The Good Life to its fullest. This Bud’s for you, My Friend.”

 

Comment away, Gang. I’m going to another dimension to get a trapezoidal butt of my own. When on Mars, do as the Martians do.

“Oh, Marty., you sexy thing you. How’d you manage to get the place?????”

“Simple, Peaches. I just went the Glidden Store and got a couple of paintbrushes out of the garage, and the rest was a piece of cake. Matches the wine, doesn’t it?”

‘Scuse me while I whip this up*

Oooh, hubris! Love it!

So when do the too-cool-for-school girls get their comeuppance? When Molly goes on the DL for chemical burns after Milo accidentally on purpose tips her lab experiment over on her?  When fist bumps go wrong and somebody breaks a hand? Or when another rando MHS student fails to look up from his smartphone, slips on the highly polished floors and crashes into Molly, injuring her horribly? Things are going too well for the Lady Mudlarks – and their behavior becoming too arrogant – for this Era of Good Feelings to last.

Today’s bizarre cameos: Ted Cruz as Milo, Señor y Señorita Wences in the Milford infield. Rocki Prado has a Twitter feed but there’s not much gleaned from it. Props to the Chief for giving her lustrous hair to rival Gilchrist-era Aunt Fritzi and earrings that more closely approximate what girls currently wear than what are usually seen in Milford.

 

*Which is what I say to myself every day I write a post here.

Death Of The Cool

Musical inspiration for today’s post title:

So, the clarinet is uncool, eh? Well, let’s see what this nerd person I found via a search for clarinet solos thinks:

Also uncool? Direct democracy.

Minus point: That cafeteria table looks like it was drawn by MC Escher after downing a pint of tequila.

Edited to add the color strip to supplement commentary:

 

The ’69 Miracle Mets And Stuffed Hippos, Guaranteed Recipes For Success.

Gang, have you noticed the last 6-7 panels that we ARE at the ballpark and they DO have their uniforms on their person, oh, and Jamila took one for the team and brought her Muppet to instill new-found confidence in the team, but it’s still anybody’s guess if there’s a game, practice, team shootaround, walk-through, scrimmage, (naw, scratch that, already been tried once and got voted out at the Constitutional Convention) , pepper competition, hitting drill off the T-ball tee, Bar Mitzvah, Silent Auction to raise money for softballs and stuffed crocodiles (Plan B in case stuffed hippos go south) , or they just met at the ballpark because The Bucket got shut down by the Milford Health Department (too much salmonella in Bucket Burgers, I’m guessing) wearing their uniforms because all their school clothes are at the Milford Dry Cleaners.

 

Thissssss just sucks

No batting or no pitching

Exists to start the day

We’re left with hats

And stuffed pachyderms

The team is going down in flames

Nothing to say

Nothing to sayyyyyyyyyyyyy

 

Let us cling together as the games go by

O Mudlarks, Mudlarks

Finding hope in broken toys

The season evaporates our joy

Let us never lose the lessons they should learn.

 

Sorry, you whippersnappers, I know you got your music,and I like much of it, but musicians like Frank Zappa, David Bowie, and the group singing the song above, Queen, transcends ANY generation, in my book. Had to play them (RIP, Freddy Mercury, “Liar” just electrified this 7th-grader in his day) . Check out “A Day at the Races”. Vintage, Gang.

 

I’m sorry, Gang, but I’m having a hard time swallowing Jerry Grote telling Tom Seaver that he left his stuff on the subway because he bought the wrong stuffed animal at Toys ‘R’ Us. You brought a giraffe and the Chinese New Year called for a stuffed panda. And don’t forget to bring your koala in Game One against the Orioles. Mike Cuellar is lugging his stuffed wart hog.

Lesson 101 in remembering that the “Too-cool-for-school” merchandise normally gets trumped by something called practice, game preparation, team focus, y’know, winning formula for success, if ya wanna win. One of my favorite managers, Tony Larussa, said it best: “You can’t win if you don’t have a plan”.

And don’t get me wrong, being a Christian, I have let Jesus Christ be Lord of my life concerning athletics, it works for me anyway. If you serve a different God, okay, I NEVER judge, but again that’s what keeps me going in the world of athletics and has for several decades. But in Exodus, when the Israelites got a little lax when going to battle, God reminded them prayer was over, I will deliver your enemies to you but you can’t take a detour to The Bucket, praying 5 times a day to Gil’s house.

And speaking of “Too cool for school”, whadup wit dat? All these Stay in School messages everywhere, especially in schools, but yet John Brown is fomenting another rebellion from the grave. Learned his lessons from Harper’s Ferry and now applying them to the Mudlark Softball team. I know some Abolitionists will go to any extremes (Thaddeus Stevens comes to mind) but can’t they confine their partners-in-crime above the age of consent? I can’t see Brown fighting off the Federal troops at Harper’s Ferry with Winchesters and stuffed rhinos because he was too cool for the Confederate States of America.

“Did you know that Jefferson Davis combs his hair with a pitchfork? And he uses pig lard to shower himself???? Ooooooooo, groteee to the max!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

But I suppose if Camila has a piggy bank the size of a catcher’s Mitt, she and the team can explore the right combo until the good luck charms win you the hardware. Just ask the Mets. Really, I think a witch doctor somewhere in Queens just hated the Cubs and the rest was history. No Robmize, don’t put a hex on me. I have my stuffed Bob Knight here somewhere (ha) .

In the meantime, the girl in the center needs to spit her Red Man Mint Long Cut the other way. I wouldn’t want chaw stains on my Bob Knight doll.

 

Gang, I’m a little befuddled by this sign I saw at a trailer park the other day, naming one of the residents, Tenant of the Month.

“Arnold Snerdley has been named Tenant of the Month at Milford Executive Estates because he pays his rent on time, keeps his trailer immaculate, and keeps his panther on a leash. No stuffed anteaters were crammed in the storage shed in his yard like the 2 now-evicted residents, who chose to ignore trailer park decorum. The panel of judges have felt he more than deserves $25 off his next rent, $10 off his security deposit, front row parking at the trailer park office, and a gift certificate for a night out at The Olive Garden for a Spaghetti Plate marinaded w/ Milford Valley White Grape. Congratulations, Mr. Snerdley, and here’s hoping for anteater-free woodsheds for many years to come.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Named Resident Of The Month At Milford Chase Luxury Apartments!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“His certified check comes every 1st of the month.”

 

And please don’t tell me Richie Cunningham and Hot Date of the Month, who doesn’t have stuffed penguins in her closet at Milford Executive Estates, talk about Jerry Koosman winning Game Two because he struck out Boog Powell and Frank Robinson with a stuffed Mudlark, over French fries and Lowenbrau at Arnold’s. BTW, Richie, did you know you have an omelette on your head? Some of the waiters can be clumsy. Anyway, I have some Clearisil here in my backpack, oh, here it is, under my Gil Bear. Well, I gotta have something to snuggle up to at night, a la Mr. Howell with his teddy on Gilligan’s Island. He wasn’t going to snuggle with Skipper.

And I have seen freakier hands but I see NOW where Rod Serling developed his ideas for the Night Gallery episode, “A Fear of Spiders”.

 

Whhhheeerrrreee is Gil

His sabbatical just sucks an egg

And baseball’s toast

They won’t find home

No closer than Nome

They’ll search all over for a team

That hit the coast

Hit the cccooooaaaasssssttttttt

 

Let us cling together as the games slip by

O Mudlarks, Mudlarks

David Walter’s all they got

And his head is clearly shot

Let us never lose that lesson they don’t learn

 

And really, we could have survived with just panels today, skipping P3, since that was essentially a continuation of P2, I mean, we get the point, stuffed hippos earned Donn Clendonon the MVP award. Lord, how he had it stuffed it in his jock strap while hitting a clutch homer in Game Three but that’s another story. And if we don’t get caught in The Rapture first and the strip continues tomorrow, we’ll likely experience more gossip than ground balls, more stuffed animals than strikeouts.

And what is it with this rainbow shot in the background? We have freak hands already. Do we have to have freak rooms too????? We are at The Bucket, I presume? Or did The Bucket order a multi-colored strobe light to put by the window to attract customers??? Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and Carry-Out, man, that’s the ticket. “Hey, I didn’t order purple fries. I’m going back to the cashier.”

I think it’s safe to say that if the wife doesn’t feel like cooking, she won’t tell her husband there’s a nice restaurant on the other end of town with a rainbow by the handicapped parking.

 

If ya went back to the taxidermist to change the mount on that 10-point buck in the den ya shot 5 years ago and want ta change it ta a black bear ya shot in yore back yard cuz he was rummagin’ in the garbage cans fer the B-B-Q rib bones ya threw out, all cuz yore NFL team is on a 5-game losing streak, ya might be a redneck.

 

“Losing a loved one always hurts and the expenses incurred adds to the problem.

Hi, this is Dr. Pearl on behalf of Milford Funeral Solutions. Recently, I lost my great-great-grandmother to skin cancer. Unfortunately, she had been out in the sun too long and it caught up with her at 171 years old. We received much prayers and calls but it didn’t alleviate the cruel reality that we would have to donate her body to science at Milford Community College if we couldn’t afford a proper burial.

The friends at Milford Funeral Solutions came up with a solution to address our financial crunch while still being able to stage the viewing. Their caskets that they procured from the Woods class at Milford Vocational Institute was steady and durable, a load off my mind, given they were throwaway 2 x 4’s or so they claimed. And embalming was a snap. Never underestimate the power of power tools from Harbor Freight, of which they have a partnership. Friends come from all over at Milford Funeral Solutions.

The funeral service was also a breeze AND affordable. Instead of footing the ever-rising costs of a minister, Milford Funeral Solutions utilized the FCA Chain Gang from Milford Penitentiary. They looked awkward with their orange uniforms and chains on their hand and feet while we were singing “Softly and Tenderly (Jesus is Calling) ” and while they giving the eulogy but when one of them laid hands on my great-great-grandmother for her last rites, it was all worth it. So was not charging double for an open casket.

Come see for yourself at Milford Funeral Solutions. Where, if you can’t get pallbearers because your family’s dead and gone, Milford Funeral Solutions will furnish them at no extra charge. Peace of mind when you’re heading to the grave site.

Milford Funeral Solutions. Where you are assured your loved one is in good hands and so is your wallet.”

Comment away, gang. I just can’t explain why they’re serving green and maroon Bucket Burgers lately. Better go talk to the manager. Pronto.

Teo torriate konomama iko…

I think Queen was saying, loosely, you understand, Gil, get your ass out of Dennis the Menace. Mr. Wilson has no interest in being an assistant. He has enough problems with Dennis without having to deal with Ruff stuffed as a doll and baseball seasons in dire need of X-Lax.

In Which Linda Channels Her Inner Pete Seeger

They say at Milford High School
There are no neutrals there.
You’ll either be a Mudlark girl
Or worn out and pull your hair.

Ya know what’s worse than robmize complaining about the Cubs’ bullpen turning into the Nationals’ bullpen? The Nationals’ bullpen still being the Nationals’ bullpen! But yeah, it’s been some rocky going for our respective teams a week into the season.

Speaking of rocky going, what’s the Vegas line on Linda and David’s relationship lasting through baseball and softball season? Something’s gotta give and odds are it’ll be the dating that goes first. Nobody likes being called a hypocrite even if they are being a hypocrite, so that’s a nail in this relationship’s coffin. I guess one thing Milford has going for it is that it’s not the Canadian universe of For Better or for Worse, in which everyone was doomed to marry their childhood sweethearts. Still, that might’ve given us some hockey action and made the synchronized skating thing a bit less contrived.