Welcome To Obamaball

Travel with me into an imaginary world of the future. Imagine if you will the Bizarro world of “Obamaball.”

Come with me as we arrive at a fictional ball game in Fantasyland. We're in the top of the ninth inning and the score is tied. A relatively unknown batter strides to the plate.

A hush descends over the field; the batter nervously adjusts his ill-fitting cap, smiles at the crowd and notices that the umpire is frantically trying to inform him that he's facing in the wrong direction.

Undaunted, the batter smiles at the crowd as strike one sails past his nose. He's somewhat perplexed by the call; he wasn't ready yet.

Strike two sails by, and now he's somewhat irked, until he notices the excitement in the opposing team's dugout and wanders over to see what's up. His amazed opponents greet him with cheers and handshakes, and he passes out cigars and Rolex watches to the well wishers. Finally, after some frantic yelling and gesturing by his coach, the batter saunters back to the plate, as strike twenty-three” is called. Then his attention is drawn to a putt-putt golf game in the parking lot, so he strolls over to play a round or two, completely oblivious to the game that's going on—or maybe astray—behind him.

At last he loses interest in the golf and returns to the field, where strike forty has just been called. But this sort of mundane attention to the game has no interest for him; it's how the fans see him; he's the real focus of the event; in his eyes. By now the only fans remaining are those on the opposing side, who are cheering and patting one another on the back. They welcome the batter to their midst, but soon lose interest him, and he wanders off into the sunset with visions of his being named “Most Valuable Player of the Year,” and accepting a sizeable bonus, while driving away in his new Cadillac with a bevy of comely starlets at his side.

You've just visited a fictional place called “Obamaland,” where only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Welcome to Bizzaroworld.

--Apologies to Ed Jones for infringement on his territory.

The Bingo Room

In one of his last dialogues the philosopher Plato described the imaginary city of Magnesia, which boasted an ideal political structure, overseen by benevolent philosopher kings.

Sir Thomas Moore wrote about Utopia, a community possessing near perfect qualities, and British author James Hilton wrote about Shangri La, an earthly paradise where people lived in blissful harmony.

And closer to home, in nursing homes, assisted living facilities and other havens for the elderly, we have The Bingo Room. One can pass the Bingo Room at almost any time of the day, any day of the week, and one will find bevies of delighted seniors hovered over their collections of Bingo cards, eagerly waiting to hear the next number to be called; hoping with fevered anticipation that it will be the right number.

Generally, the residents speak in hushed tones in the Bingo Room; but occasionally tempers flare: “I only need one number,” one can hear from a variety of quarters, as eager seniors nervously hover, like starved vultures, over their cache of Bingo cards.

Some days they win; some days they lose, but as they leave the Bingo room one can hear them lament: “I only needed one number,” the sad anthem of the Bingo Hall.

Undaunted, they return the next day in eager anticipation, anxiously removing their “lucky” Bingo cards from a variety of secret locations; for these are their lucky cards, and they won't abide anyone else having them.

MARCH - What a month!

It was nearly nine decades ago when your humble scribe entered this life, and almost seven decades past in March when he swore to defend the United States and the Constitution. March has been an auspicious month.

March 2 - Texas celebrates its Independence.

March 3 - We celebrate our National Anthem. (This may be forbidden in many places in this country today—a sorry truth we must endure.)

March 4 - It's “Hug a GI Day,” more about GI's later on.

March 6 - Dr. E. Ward Smith may be beaming; since it's National Dentist Day. Daylight Savings Time goes into effect. “Spring forward.”

March 9 - “National Panic Day”--one wonders why.

March 11 - Honors plumbers, and tools in general.”

March 12 - We honor the Girl Scouts—and their cookies.

A lot went on by mid month.

March 15 - The Ides of March, of which Julius Caesar was warned; and he didn't listen. And it was also the date—some years later—that your scribe joined the U.S. Army. Tempus does fugit.

March 16 - Freedom of Information Day, which should give those of us in the journalistic world a laugh.

March 17 - The Irish have their day: “St. Patrick's Day,” which is also the date set aside to honor the submarine; but we don't know if its the warship or the sandwich.

March 20 - Earth Day.

March 22 - National Goof Off Day.

March 25 - Pecan Day.

And so it is with the month of March. Celebrate as you will.