March 16, 2005
Spring is Here
Boy, Am I happy Spring is here. Well, sorta pholks.
I love spring. Most pholks do. But like just about everything these days someone or something seems to screw things up.
With a wet winter, everything is green and the wild flowers are ablaze or about to be. Even Death Valley is attracting more visitors than usual as news of the once in a century "Super Dessert" viewing time spreads. But Death Valley's color explosion is about the only good unusual thing I can think of this year.
Spring means baseball and the arrival of spring training is something I look forward to, starting on the day after the World Series I start counting the days until spring training.
But pholks, no matter what unfolds this Major League Season, I fear that the steroid use mess is going to make this season the worst ever. I'm calling it the hemorrhoid season––a pain in the rear which won't go away. Every radio and television Big League Baseball broadcast will have comments about someone using, or imaged to be using or has used steroids. Does he or doesn't he? Did he or didn't he? When did he do it, Is he still doing it? Did he lie, did he not lie? Is his performance tainted? Should he have an asterisk on all his statistics?
I have strong feelings about enhancement drugs and medications. I never have and never will. That includes Viagra and all that other stuff I don't even like to see promoted on TV. As Popeye says, "I am. what I am." I made it this far the way I am and if anyone doesn't like it, that's tough.
Spring is the best time for golf. I have enjoyed a couple trips to Springville and Lemoore and even a day or two when I could wear shorts, my favorite attire. But this spring jinx has even tainted my golf game. I still don't have a wearable pair of golf shoes yet. I still have only the right shoe of the pair of shoes my wife bought me last summer. I don't want to spend the bucks to replace them while she is shopping for another unique pair. I'm not doing too bad but spring golf just doesn't seem right without a set of spikes.
Since this seems to be kind of an update column, I need to note than since by grumbling about the satellite TV system remote control device a few weeks back, things haven't gotten any better. This week my dear wife made a point of telling me that I had recorded 31 "pieces of programs. The longest taped segment was about eleven minutes. Most were two to three minutes. She thought it amusing. I found it embarrassing. I did not intend to record any segments of anything. Off and On and Change Channels are the only functions I need. Apparently I can't handle that. She found my "unknown recordings" when she checked the system to review the programs she'd recorded for future viewing.
I couldn't deny my mistake. I did not say "Honey, I promise never to do it again." I did say, "Honey, I told you I hate that $$%%^&%$$ remote. I love you."
For
my last update, from last time I offer you a glimpse of the screwed up Loony
Toons characters that the once respected Warner Brothers company decided
to "re-image" Bugs Bunny, the Road Runner, Wily E. Coyote, Daffy Duck and
the rest of the beloved animated American icons.
Dubbed the "Loonatics" the do-gooder crusaders are placed in the year 2772. They have super powers, look stupid. Keeping up with the times and batting for the best share of the weekend kiddie TV programing is the name of the game.
Well pholks, I hope it fails, but just in case I'm telling the Easter Bunny to watch his tail. Buzz Bunny and his friends have done steroids and they are on the loose.
So much for a happy spring.
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