What kind of twee would they be?

Barbara Walters has confessed to having an affair with a US Senator. Hold on, I need to drink some Red Bull.

Ahhh, that’s better. I almost yawned myself to death writing about Barbara Walters. She is so far past the expiration date, the FDA should issue an alert. Walters suggests had it been known, this illicit liaison could’ve ruined her career. My suggestion would be, does anybody have a time machine? I’d gladly give up going back in time to pay more personal attention to a young Anna Quindlen in HS, just to make sure Barbara never had a career. Oddly, it might serve to further my own journalistic pursuits. Hmmmmm

Meanwhile, lots of stuff has happened during my hiatus. Most of it is the s.o.s., so don’t worry, in 6-9 months it will all circle around. Again. My favorite though, me being a dude who blogs globally but bitches locally, was the gun dealer who spoke at Virginia Tech.

In case you missed it, yes, he’s the !@#&*%er, who sold 2 weapons to that piece of shit psycho. Of course his main argument was how could he know. After all, this is the USA and everyone has a right to make a living (?) and to bear arms. Somebody has to sell guns to wackos, so, why shouldn’t it be him. However, for the sake of Karmically balancing that idiot, the universe immediately killed off Charlton Heston.

OK. He’s correct. It’s not his fault that monster slipped through the PC psych vetting for students. Or that the Commonwealth of Virginia permits weapons to be sold. Virginia is more concerned with busting people who don’t wear seat belts & taxing citizens who buy frivolous luxury items, for example, like FOOD! Just a guess, more people drive cars to buy food than guns in the course of any given day.

I chose not to read much about this campus visit. Does me no good to get even more irate. I would like to know why the police can’t sell the guns. Wouldn’t they be better able to investigate and evaluate a customer? might even catch a few of them without their seat belts buckled too.

Heads up to any potential gun buyers, if you’re bringing donuts to grease the wheels with the cops, VA doubles the tax on any donuts you buy, if they are packaged by the store ( prepared food tax lol ). Get you enraged? have you ever considered visiting a TV show live? You know what would be a good one? The View. Just a thought.

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Happy Birthday to Captain America in Norfolk VA — do you ever miss your Shields?

Better Fed than Read

Everybody is now after once immortal lock for baseball’s Hall of Fame, Roger Clemens. Latest arm of the Federal Government piling on ( a fitting term seeing as Mr. Clemens was/is a pitcher ) are the Boys of Hoover. He’s lucky it’s not the CIA. I saw a movie where Meryl Streep was in the CIA, she was one stone hearted mama. BTW Meryl is getting chunky, got to be from all those years of scenery chewing. . ..

Yes sir, the FBI will be investigating, while The CEO of the USA, is making dead grandma jokes about Latin lunkhead Manny Ramirez. Manny, being Manny, a state of being coined by somebody in Boston, likely not from Harvard, depicting moronic behavior as an expression of Ramirez’ individuality. I know he can’t, but can you say: E U P H E M I S M?

Seems Ramirez didn’t show up for the Boston victory lap around the Rose Garden. Again. He didn’t make it in 2K4 either.
I’m betting his excuse is he was off in his home country, the Bronx. Manny doesn’t know that’s in the US, a hundred miles or so to DC being too much of a hardship expense for a multi-millionaire. He does know he’s wealthy because he owns way too many vintage cars. Probably didn’t want to drive one of those babies on the Beltway. Elijah Dukes is with the Washington Nationals now, he’d key a quarter million dollar Bentley just because he saw his reflection in it.

Now looky here. No, here> If you break a law, especially one they made for your own good ( anabolic steroids & human growth hormones [HGH] bad! ), you shouldn’t be allowed to skate. I guess the cheating in sports angle really pisses a lot of people off too. Bettors get surly, makes things unpredictable, er, more unpredictable. I certainly didn’t care much for Roger Clemens when he was with another team, hmmmm what was that team? ah yes, those nurturing, benevolent Mother Theresa’s of Massachusetts, the Boston Red Sox, that’s who. They must have known someday he’d turn to drugs, so being high minded, they dumped him. Nothing to do with his four consecutive mediocre seasons. Nope. Which rhymes with ____?

I, for one, will sleep better and better, each time an athlete is punished to the full extent of the law for attempting to extend his career or get an edge. When Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens are taught a lesson, possibly water boarding, who knows, maybe all the political/religious extremists who hate US Americans, will rehabilitate themselves. Ray Stevens would like it, he could release a song parody of his old hit, the new one would be Rehab the Arab( pronounced w/a long A, like Mr. Bush would ). I wouldn’t want a PED Clemens fastball coming at my head in a dark alley! AND I damn sure don’t like the idea of Bonds breaking up my no hitter with a HGH homerun. Hell no!

Chicks Dig the Lung Ball!

If only we could go back to the Golden Age of Baseball, when the athletes were as pure as the media. Make that the Old Gold Age. Say what you will about Roger Clemens or Barry Bonds, you won’t see them lighting up in the dugout! Jim Leyland, manager of your Detroit Tigers, might, but hey, he’s grandfathered in and a winner.

Back before all those do-gooder hippies & activists showed up, professional athletes could only ( provided they were famous enough ) supplement their then low seasonal pay, via lucrative endorsement deals. Car, beer & cigarettes were the troika and no lesser stars than Hall of Famers Babe Ruth & Ted Williams, were once at the top of the heap. Many fondly recall the Reggie Bar, Reggie Jackson’s validation of his superstar stature in the 1970’s. Though as a candy, it’s more remembered as a missile, rather than a taste treat. Free agency has aided that fiscal shortfall for current ballplayers. No more off season jobs pumping gas, working in a coal mine or being a deputy sheriff. Unless you’re Shaquille O’Neal: the NBA legend doesn’t need the money, he just needs the law re-enforcement.

Smokeless tobacco, the addiction formerly known as chewing tobacco (wow! they can spin anything—how about coming up with Cancerless tobacco?), is still used by primarily baseball players. There has been a concerted effort in the last few years to educate especially young players regarding the risks of mouth cancer, for that little bit of metastasis between cheek & gum. I was fond of Jim Bouton’s ( former Yankees pitcher & author )Big League Chew myself, a pouch of shredded bubblegum. You could blow bubbles with your mouth, and not with that hole in your larynx like Uncle Joe Bob.

AND never a bit of controversy with guys like Richie, er, Dick Allen ( our poster boy below ) back then either. OK, maybe he’s a poor example. So, that’s where the Phils got the idea for candy apple pinstripes! Still Spring Training is here and baseball is back on the field & out of Congress ( for the moment ). Can anybody say ‘Play Ball!’ Where’s my effin’ brewsky dammit! I mean CrackerJack. . ..

*The U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Hibbert has determined juggling while smoking, may be dangerous to your health.

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The above is for educational and entertainment purposes only. Photo and cover art copy are sole Copyrights of Time Warner Inc. None of the above commentary or opinions are endorsed by Time Warner Inc. No monies were accrued by the author for this work entitled Chicks Dig the Lung Ball ©2008 Jukeofurl Prod.

God Man Out

God, John Lennon once wrote, is a concept. Then some fat mental patient shot him to death. Some people have a personal God. My personal God would’ve whacked Yoko. Before you jump on me, think about it: John would’ve really missed her. Lesson learned. Until a few years later and he got a load of Joan Chen or Ming Wa.

Richard Dawkins, not to be confused with Richard Dawson, a scientist at Oxford University, has a book. Titled: The God Delusion, in which he essentially states–ain’t no God. He also pretty much calls anyone who believes, a dumb ass. (Cough-Correct!) Then he repeats himself over & over ad nauseum. Kinda like God. . ..

My proof God existed, was getting an eyeful of an attractive woman. I’m not naming names. Anymore, any way. A few weeks ago I told a bunch of morons I thought Eva Green was hot. They told me she looked like a man. The nicest thing anyone said was—she looks very severe. Eva, if you read this, I still think you’re fine. Call me?

However, my proof there isn’t a God is, none of those hot chicks ever reciprocated my ardor. I tried compromising, but after a few lukewarm level babes dissed me, I turned devout atheist. Get serious, if you’re only gonna love me for my income, you’re a Satan worshipper. AND I don’t go for that one bit. Fork tongue, fork tail? Fork you!

Also mean nuns. Those [deleted] were married to God! Yikes. NO wonder God was vengeful with those harpies around the house. Though that original black & white look was tres chic. If you were Diane Arbus. This also explains the celibacy of priests and some of their unfortunate urges. Not all nuns were mean naturally. But sexual repression turned inward should never be allowed near children or to possess a ruler.

Country performers, athletes & certain races, like to thank God at awards shows. I admit, if I’d have had a hit record ( or 6 which is what I asked God to let me have–btw God thanks for the Brad Paisley box set, not what I had in mind but hey!) I’d have thanked God right after my parents & dogs. I don’t believe but I would’ve, based on good old fashioned Catholic guilt. Hee haw.

Because my reading retention skills have eroded since puberty, I can’t recall if I read this in the Dawkins book, but apparently that 72 virgins crap the Muslims sell suggestible social retardates, was mistranslated. It’s supposed to be 72 ‘raisins.’ Man, oh Manischewitz, I’d like to be there for that—what a treat! Admittedly, if you lived in the desert a thousand years ago & came across a bunch of grapes, you’d be in Heaven. But that sun would dry them out fast, so the leap to raisins is easy. Guaranteed there wouldn’t be a bit of old Allah left, after one of those psychos got handed a box of California raisins for blowing himself up & murdering some more of God’s Chosen People. Good times all around.

The best display of belief in God, is however, all those so called Christians who persecuted, tortured & killed in the name of God. And they have bad hair. The Spanish Inquisition is my favorite. That epistle was in one of the lost Gospels where Jesus said ‘Rack ‘em up boys!’ Torquemada getting Lamb of God mixed up with rack of lamb. Not only is that type sociopathic, they are no fun at parties. Nor are they fun, as radio station owners, who along with tele-evangeli$ts, fleece millions for millions, for God. Makes you hope there at least is a hell. You know, that place where most of my former ‘flames’ will reside for all eternity, as per their fervent wish, granted by their master, the Prince of Darkness, without me! I’ll be in hebben with my raisins, though I’d prefer ambrosia.

Really, I think God was a 5th grader who got a C- on his science project & dumped it in the basement & forgot about it. Then went on to produce reality shows. I know truly wonderful things exist. I’d mention some, but it would just be my list. We all have a list of stuff that makes life bearable. But the repetitive cruelty & injustice, the stupidity of sports talk radio & the Red Sox winning two World Series in the last 4 years, proves it to me. God either doesn’t exist or is an idiot savant who now roots for Boston. Either is too sad to contemplate. In fact, God can just ki *

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* for those who wondered, this is not a glitch, it’s supposed to be the hand of G*d reaching down and stopping me before I’d type something like God can just kiss my as

Little Dead Rooster

Here we go again. Yet another intellectually challenged, highly paid, professional athlete, makes news for a so called ‘ cultural ‘ pursuit.

Pedro Martinez ( NY Mets ), previously known for carrying a midget around, knocking down a 70 year old man & no surprise, being a pitcher for the Boston Rude Sox, hangs out at cockfights. He and former MLB pitcher Juan Marichal, best known for beating another player ( John Roseboro, LA Dodger catcher ) on the head with a bat, were getting off, watching roosters kill each other. Amazing! nobody sprang to their defense by claiming they ate them later at a festival held in their dubious honor? What do they call Buffalo wings in Dominica? el LOSER!

Words like culture and legal are being used. What a load of crap. A bunch of morons can make anything legal in a third rate country. Calling something which is amoral, legal, is an expedience for the morally challenged, who are no doubt profiting in some way from the law. Isn’t this the same Dominican Republic whose neighbor was once Papa Doc Duvalier? voodoo was legal there. Also torturing people. The same Dominican which was ruled by dictators until the US Marine Corps was sent there. Now they have a propped up democracy, many of the people there are still apparently having cultural pains transitioning from the Stone Age.

This opens the door again for the historically bereft sports hosts & their predominantly unlettered callers, to show off their lack of critical discretion and bumper sticker world view. ” Hey Biff, it’s legal there! ” Or the high tone: ” Who are we to impose our standards on other countries! ” The US is no paradise for animals. The condoned practices of greyhound racing prove it, let alone the subhumans here who sponsor illegal dog & cockfighting. But any intelligent person, no matter what their country of origin is, can see cock fighting is for knuckle draggers. Ignorance is ignorance. If you like watching animals kill each other for any reason, you are not even an intellect equal to those animals. You are a soulless buffoon and no excuse absolves you of your flaw.

The Mets were poised to launch a new season, with great hopes of making their fans & anyone else forget their September Swoon of 2007. Now Mr. Martinez has dumped all over it by showing himself to be a jerk. I’d hoped he’d outgrown it. Whatever law he thinks is on his side, it’s written in mud using a stick, with a lower case L, and is superseded by a much higher one. One he is incapable of perceiving, along with those in a peer group that has the audacity to cloak itself in concepts such as culture & law. A cloak made of chicken feathers; straight from the floor of a chicken coop.

Infant Item

Rumor has it the Writers Guild is nearing a contract. This will mean new scripts and/or those on hold, will be available for projects all across the media. Yippie. And I mean it.

I have some things I don’t grasp about writing, specifically for television(teleplays). It’s centered around a pedestrian plot device & female foot wear. Any veteran viewer will know of what I speak, as soon as I get to it.

SCRUBS, a much better than average hospital situation comedy, is in it’s final season. They’ve had a roller coaster ride. Every season renewal was doubtful, though critically acclaimed. One of the young leads, Zach Braff, has launched a independent film career during his tenure. But ratings were always less than what NBC had in mind. Still SCRUBS persevered for seven seasons. Can you say syndication bucks? They sure can.

Here’s why I cite them. Seems as if every freakin’ character on the show has had a baby, a second baby, wants a baby or just likes to talk about babies ( creepy ). Historically in TV Land, in the land of the bland, the one note man is King, that TV Land; a baby( or theoretically cute young child ) is injected into a show, in hopes of boosting sinking ratings. Once upon a time, some network suit made that suggestion ‘ take one baby, just add poop jokes ‘(or stole it, more than likely from a kid in the mailroom) and it worked. So, for the last 50 years, it’s the go to fix. The phrase Jump the Shark, is more like it. Does anybody remember Cousin Oliver?

My best guess is the SCRUBS people are just having a laugh up their scrubs sleeves. Meanwhile, the writing is still funny & occasionally poignant. The baby shit however. . . not so much. And yet, I wondered, what larger scenarios might become more popular, by adding a baby.

OK I bet you thought this right away too! The White House. Mr. & Mrs. Bush could get the married twin ( one is married right? I’m a writer dammit, poetic license ) and have her live there pregnant and give birth ( ideally in the Oval Office ), for the final year of Bushocracy. Wackiness ensues at press conferences and State dinners. Grandpa George was a wild card at them—imagine the grandkid! I smell a hit. Possibly something else. . ..

By extension then, add a baby to the Iraqui War. Have the whole Armed Forces adopt one. Humanizing, sentimental and distracting. Can’t miss. There can be new WMD jokes ( make up your own words, it will be easy ), scenes of the baby being fed during house to house searches, first steps ( and missteps, booboos!), first words: I’m guessing they will be: fire my !@#%* agent! Let’s call it: Shock and Awwww.

Apologies to Jonathan Swift’s Modest Proposal aside, I could go on and on. Luckily for everyone, I am having an episode of dropsy. So, just one more pitch. It could get rough here, you might want to stop reading. Hey! I warned you. How about for special downs during the Super Bowl, instead of a football. . .. Just kidding. They don’t need bigger ratings. Maybe just get the kid drunk on Bud, put it behind the wheel of a Dodge RAM. If they can get it to drive to an Army recruiter? BOOM! TV gold.

Now, for the footwear. I don’t like high heels. So, from my POV, no occasion, in any room. . . calls for a woman to wear them. Yeah, yeah I know what they do. Who cares. They can’t be fun to walk in or really do anything upright; most women would likely agree on that point, right after attending to their blisters. But when I see female characters who are purportedly police or FBI or meter maids running down a bad guy wearing stilettos, my brain blisters. You can’t convince me a woman smart enough to be a doctor or a nurse is working those 20 hour shifts in spikes. Who has final script approval? Hugh Hefner? Where are those femi-nazis when you need them? It’s just dumbass. Somebody needs to er, step in and put their foot down.

Though, if there was a show with a baby cop in a pair of sky high heels! Wow. I think I’d watch. If the writing is good, naturally.

The Santanic Verses*

Johan Santana is still a Minnesota Twin. If he were a biological twin, it might help matters. Or just double the dubious pleasure and pain, surrounding the question of what team he’ll be pitching for in the 2008 MLB season. Not to mention all the words employed to discuss it ad nauseum. It should be pointed out Jose Canseco has a twin. So, as always the caveat: results may vary. . ..

Oh, which handsome suitor will attract the fair Minnesota GM Bill Smith ( is that his real name or is he hoping to maintain anonymity, if it goes bad?) and win his handshake on a blockbuster deal? Will it be the New York Yankees? Hmmm every other day they are like Al Pacino in Godfather lll—they try to get out. But they get pulled back in. The Yankees seem more like Silvio Dante’s ( The Sopranos ) impression of Al; funny and scary at the same time.

What about the Redolent Sox of Boston? I sure hope not. Though at this point, frankly Scarlet Ho-s, I don’t give a darn. The move would out those loads as the real once and future Evil Empire. It would also make it even sweeter to beat them down again; Mr. Santana’s stats at Fenway are improving, though historically, not all that awesome. Damn, I might’ve just messed with Karma. Oofah.

OR, now coming out of left field, landing on 3rd, the New York Mets. If any organization knows Yankee Envy, other than the Bostons, it’s the NYY crosstown cousins. BTW has anyone ever told the Mets ownership, that when they chose Dodger Blue & the orange to honor the late lamented NY Giants, for their team colors, neither of those teams wore pinstripes ( Mets have a pinstriped uni )? that team was/is the Yankees. They’re the team who stayed in New York City. Based on recent performance, if the Yankees had moved to California, they’d be about 11 pennants lighter, because they cannot win for losing out there!

Anyhow, the Mets really need Santana, especially after their unprecedented meltdown last season. They may yet get him too. But the Twins are reluctant to make a deal which would make them look weak to their fans. They have the right to ask for a lot, but they are dragging their heels like a guy who has to go to a chick flick.With his wife and mother in law. AND he pathetically keeps trying to get his wife to sweeten the deal— you know how. You also know how it ends. So, in hopes of ending this stale stalemate, I propose the following solution:

The NYY, BRS & Mets make a joint offer. They each give the Twins 4 guaranteed-can’t miss young players( that’s a joke son ) w/less than 2 seasons of MLB service, making them very attractive to Twins owner, Ebeneezer Pohlad ( 12 players for 1 ). Then, the 3 teams can share the use of Santana. Naturally he can’t pitch v. himself, so they’ll need an arcane, rotating formula, which Boston’s Bill ‘ sabermetrician ‘ James can develop, in the same unbiased way ( coughing fit ) George Mitchell did his steroid investigation.

The Twins will of course need 3-6 more months to consider if the offer is a good one, or until their brains thaw. It’s awfully cold in Minnesota, this time of year. . ..

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* US Copyright law does not allow copyright for titles. However, if I see any hacks copping this one, as they did with Santana Clause, I’ll come back and name names. So note the date January 15, 2008. Caveata ides illegitimi!

©2008 Jukeofurl Productions

W.W.J.G.?

Good golly Miss Molly! look at the calendar—Christmas is here. Why only yesterday it seemed as if it were baseball season. Oh wait, that was the Mitchell Report, last week. Lots of coal in those sanitary socks this Yuletide.

As usual, I’ll be walking the line between pre-ghostly visitors Scrooge and Will Ferrell in Elf. I have a Gemini moon OK. Now where’s my present? I do wish I could give my friends gifts, but I’m a bit low on flow, having blown my allowance on NetFlix. Well, the ones who take the time to read my blog deserve gifts. The rest are dead to me. Did I mention I have a. . . yes, I did.

But since Christmas is in theory, a fun time of year, in the spirit of that, here are the gifts I would give what friends I have left, after the preceding paragraph. I will be using initials, because I really can’ t afford to lose them too and/or any litigation. They will know who they are, and that’s all matters. If they don’t, they weren’t really getting anything any way.

For the best sounding board I have ever had GEO: Marshall Crenshaw’s old back up band + 3 hit song co-writes.

For the only poet I’ve ever read who didn’t make me homicidal or suicidal & not necessarily in that order JEM: a villa on the Spanish Riviera & a copy of her daughter’s future coffee table book of photography.

For a woman who had the courage to move to Manhattan, get a Masters, then quit a secure job to pursue the Muse KSH: anything she wants musically. Ever.

For my former manager, a guy too nice for show business REL: one son in the NFL & the other on Broadway & a long, rest of your life to enjoy it.

For the only couple on this list S & EG: a continued endless supply of whatever it is makes you both so amazing.

Finally for the family members who still put up with me: It ain’t over til it’s over. . .. twang twang

Happy Christmas & the best year ever. Hey! what’s Zooey Deschanel doing here? and why is she dragging that huge chain!

Love,

Me

An Early Xmas Present [part 1]

What a week for the self righteous. And for the type who think showing up late to a party, makes you sophisticated. Not to mention me, a person with more than one dimension, all of which are worn out by the same old shit. Michael Vick gets sentenced. Then MLB does a mea culpa for use of performance enhancing drugs ( PED ) and famous pretentious windbag Oprah Winfrey, throwing her considerable weight ( it yoyos ) behind Barack Obama.

First, Vick. Jock thug gets busted for an illegal ‘ sport.’ Apparently making millions of dollars doing his questionably legal sport, football didn’t meet his needs. Sadly, he has supporters, who say things such as—it’s only dogs-or-dogfights are part of the culture he was raised in-or-he’s a moron, what do you expect! OK, I said the last one. To date, my suggestion to take all his earnings & use them to help animals, seems to be ignored. The Atlanta Falcons, his former team, is more concerned with recovering the monies they’ve paid him. This isn’t just because they’re justifiably disappointed, but so they can remove this huge amount from their payroll and open up room in the salary cap, the proscribed $ limit they can spend for player salaries per season.

Another aspect of the Vick conviction, is what happens after he successfully serves his time, 23 months. Theoretically, since many spend jail time in the gym, Vick will still be young and fit enough to make a football comeback. I can say what I want about his lack of intellect, the guy has mad athletic skills. My opinion is: if he can play again in the NFL, I say let him. Take half of his pay and use it to help animals. Yes, I am dogged with my suggestions, like hmmm a pitbull! Oh yeah, and create a restraining order involving him & dogs. . ..

Bud Selig, former used car salesman and owner of the Milwaukee Brewers baseball team & current commissioner of baseball, finally noticed some players had fatheads. This wasn’t just from a disproportionate sense of self worth. Nope, it was from anabolic steroid abusage, which rhymes with dope. Selig hired former Senator George Mitchell, once on the board of directors for the Boston Red Sox, to head an investigation into the use of PED in professional baseball. Gee, maybe they should start by ridding their sport of conflicts of interest first. Our sitting President, G.W. Bush, was once the owner of a MLB team. He & Congress would like nothing better than to really get in on this ( they did previously in 2005 ). Can you say: Major League Distraction?

The report came out yesterday December 13 and several names of alleged users are provocative. This fuels the jock talk in the media. For me, it’s excellent. It bumps time from the sick radio & TV network obsession with football. It won’t last, but it’s something.The lords of baseball are like dads who finally figure out the reason their kid is burning incense isn’t because the kid has embraced Buddhism. Now daddy is pissed—no kid of mine is gonna be a hophead— kind of thing. Sigh. Yes, some of these drugs are now illegal. Yes, they could cause future health risks to the user: at least one athlete has died from steroid use, Lyle Alzado, a football player. That this fact is a throw away AND that it occurred well over 10 years ago, shows the continued cupidity, if not culpability of sports suits and their ancillaries, sports writers, reporters, fans etc. Did I mention football?

It remains to be seen what these buttoned down boardroom blowhards will do to rid the baseball world of dopers. A world they encourage & enable by demanding performance, which due to expansion has diluted & spread thin the premiere performers & allowed many to linger on at older ages and/or make major league rosters, who once would’ve been career minor leaguers. Some of the use was to speed up the healing from injury, to simply return to performing, as opposed to unfairly enhancing it. But illegal is illegal. Now. Hey, daddy needs to bring home the bacon. But this and the Vick situation raises the dilemma of authority favoring curative versus preventative solutions. See how well the war on the rest of the drugs has gone! Not. I bet the sales numbers on Kentucky whiskey & cigars goes way up. Though not Cuban cigars. Those are still illegal. Unless you have a source.

Root cause(s) need to be addressed. Oh, I don’t advocate letting off a rapist, child molester, mass murderer because they had early childhood trauma. It’s not easy or effective yet, accurately predicting who will grow up to be a Manson or a Mother Theresa. Or even if we could, what to do about it. I sure hope that’s where the real effort must be. Better prisons or smarter lawyers ain’t gonna do it. So, good luck.

Now as for Oprah’s endorsement of Mr. Obama. I bet she wrestled long and hard. Hillary or Barack? Over and over. I’d say maybe two commercial breaks worth. Obvious which way she’d go. Hey! he’s from her home state of Illinois. I so wanted to use a black & white( meaning obvious ) decision. My third choice was slam dunk, but everybody knows white women can’t jump.

I would like to take this opportunity to endorse Mr. Obama too. This does not bode well for him, based on my political track record. As much as I’d like to see a woman in the Ovule, errrr Oval Office*, Mrs. Clinton has way too much baggage on so many levels, including the problem of what to call the first Presidential male partner**, who just also happens to be a former President! The First Man? too anthropological. First Husband? technically accurate on 2 counts. First ex-Pres and guy in US history in this situation? shorten it to Expotus, sounds Greek, a foreshadowing of the theatrics sure to follow. I like that one best. BTW there is no prize for observing how many capital O’s were necessary to create these two paragraphs.

Wasn’t that fun. I need a long Winter’s nap.

* serving as President and not servicing one

** in a legalized heterosexual union they call marriage

Santana Clause is Coming to. . .?

This is my favorite time of the baseball year. Yeah, that’s right, the Major Leagues are not currently playing games. Not on the field anyway. Next week MLB holds what they call the Winter Meetings. It’s like a Shriner’s Convention with player swapping. It’s in Nashville too! two of my three favorite things in the same place. Excellent. Too bad none of my baseball songs ever got a record. . ..

The rise of the Player’s Association & free agency with it’s tangled web of contractual traps, i.e. stratospheric salaries, media shares, player agents, no trade clauses, limited trade clauses, player options & buyouts etc. etc., have removed most of the fan fun. Making trades ain’t just a handshake anymore. Though, since the explosion of 24/7 sportstalk, internet reporting and yes, Bill Conlin: bloggers, the rumor mill is grinding harder than ever. The grist is finer having been gone over a million times. The facts, not so fine. Anyone can start a rumor now. I could, but as usual, that’s not why I’m here today.

Due to a billionaire owner’s Scrooge-like penny pinching, a much coveted pitcher Johan Santana ( Minnesota Twins LHP, 2 Cy Young awards ) may or may not be trade bait, before he can opt for free agency after the 2008 season. Though that depends on the offers. Blah blah blah. Because any such trade would involve the other team sending back young, but proven players and a substantial amount of money, not too many teams are up for it. Let’s forget the maybe teams and focus on two well known rivals. Yes sports fans, you guessed it or were exposed for a nanosecond to some form of media in the last 10 days, so you knew. It’s the Yankees & that Boston bunch.

Frankly, let’s forget about the Yankees. If they get Santana, great. Maybe. Their luck with bringing in big time arms from other teams either via trade or free agency, is very, not good, verging on spooky bad. So, pardon me if I don’t get all ecstatic thinking about Johan Santana in the ace role ( rhymes with ____ ) I come here not to praise Soxus, but to bury them. As for the Minn. Twins, they are acting like a 15 year old girl with two popular boys fighting over her. They should be grounded with all Great Mall of the America’s privileges revoked until after graduation.

The definition of psychological projection is: the unconscious transfer of one’s own desires or emotions to another. Several years ago, Boston CEO Larry Lucchino referred to his down south Bronx nemesis in such a way as to portray the bled Sawx as the team led by Luke Skywalker. But as their recent record indicates, the Bostons are anything but lambs to the Yankee lions. The Red Sox won a World Series in 2004 and when the 2006 season started only 7 players from that roster remained! and one of them was traded tout de suite.* Even less were left when they popped the tediously cliched champagne for this past 2007 WS victory.

When Lucchino, much more Darth Vaderesque than George Steinbrenner at this point, puked the Evil Empire yack all over the NYY, he was obviously projecting. Just last year he outbid the Yankees for Japanese pitcher Daisuke Matsuzaka, and it wasn’t for just dangling a sushi franchise and a traveling personal masseuse, though the latter was part of the deal. If the Red Sox organization manages to acquire Santana without giving up even one of their acclaimed untouchable, admittedly terrific young players and/or pitchers, they will have dropped the veil for even the blindest to see them for what they really are. The Twins should include a lifetime supply of Beano for the Boston front office, Santana can hand deliver it the day he puts a Sox uni shirt on over his suit for the big press conference. Talk about lame sport’s practices, that’s as dumb as they come. AND quite the sporty look too; just don’t get why that hasn’t caught on amongst the hoi polloi.

They call the big goofy left wall in Fenway Park–The Green Monster. But it’s the green-eyed monster that resides all curled up & hissing in Boston ( thank you Kevin Cronin ). Caveat emptor, Caesar Lauritius il Bocco Grasso, caveato esay! Gautama Buddha aside, our country’s poster boy for Karma, Earl Hickey can tell you, you better watch out. You just might get what you deserve. Sure, in between you might win a World Series or 2, but the next time you call people names, everybody will know why. . ..

* close enough, damn if I’m going to be more than 86% accurate about the Bled Sox