July 31, 2007

-- It’s hotter than the inside of an ox up here, and I don’t care for it. In fact, I don’t really like summer all that much. Here’s how I’d rank the seasons: fall, spring, winter, summer. 

I’m not a fan of extremes (in weather as well as politics), but prefer cold ridiculousness over the hot variety. How would you rank ‘em? Are there any other fall spring winter summer people out there? …Hello?

-- Summer does have baseball going for it, but other than glancing at the standings in the newspaper two or three times per week, I don’t follow it anymore. 

Certainly not as much as this guy. 

I don’t know any of the players anymore, feel no strong allegiances, and am bothered by the lack of respect for the history of the game. You know, stuff like inter-league play, and the way fabled long-standing records are being “broken” by depressing charlatans not fit to powder the sacs of Henry Aaron and Roger Maris.

So, as far as I’m concerned, baseball doesn’t do much to move summer up in the rankings anymore. Maybe when I was a kid, but not now… 

Do I sound like a bitter old man on a park bench, with his checker buddies and chronic flatulence? So be it.

-- Speaking of baseball history, Steve and I are tentatively planning a trip to Yankee Stadium before they bulldoze that bastard under. Neither of us has been there, and it must be done.

Yeah, I know, they gutted it in the 70s, and it’s not really Yankee Stadium. But it’s as close as I’m ever going to get. Pass the beer nuts.

How many Major League baseball stadiums have you visited? Here’s my list (as best as I can remember): 

Riverfront Stadium in Cincinnati, Three Rivers in Pittsburgh, Fulton County in Atlanta, Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia, Fenway Park in Boston, Candlestick Park in San Francisco, Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles.

I’d planned to take in a game at the new stadium in Philadelphia this summer, but have I done it? No I have not.

-- On Saturday afternoon the Secrets and I went to a sprawling theater complex and traded seventeen dollars for permission to watch The Simpsons Movie on one of their dozens of screens. 

The boys loved it, and I kinda liked it. It certainly wasn’t horrible, but I didn’t find myself buckled-over in laughter much, either. In fact, here’s video footage of me watching The Simpsons Movie this past weekend.

What did you think of it? Was it just my sour mood (humidity and visitors-fueled) that tainted the whole thing? Am I wrong about it? Was it actually gut-busting hilarious, and I’m just a bitter old man with a stick up his ass? 

Anything’s possible.

-- Every remaining t-shirt order is being shipped today, my friends, including the one received while I was sleeping last night, and the two that came in while I typed this update. 

I’ve now got shirts in every size available, and ready for immediate shipment. Plus, I’m feeling extremely guilty about the delay some folks encountered. So, now’s the perfect time to order… 

Take advantage of my need to compensate, and buy your Smoking Fish shirt today! It’s your gut-cover solution.

-- And while you're at it, you might want to sign up for our mailing list as well. I can feel another subscribers-only rant percolating way down in the bowels of my bowels...  

-- Andy just chased our mailman off again (still undefeated), but not before the man deposited a new issue of Rolling Stone in our box. The cover story is about the twenty year anniversary of the release of Appetite for Destruction. And if that’s not goddamn depressing, I don’t know what is.

-- And speaking of fictional bands, check this out. My first reaction was, where's Drive Shaft?! Who else did they forget? 

I’ve got more on my docket of dumbassery, but I’m gonna stop right here. I’m experiencing a powerful hankering for chicken salad, and powerful hankerings cannot be ignored… 

You guys have yourselves a great day.

I’ll see ya tomorrow.

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