Now here's someone

. . .with some redeeming qualities. A young man named Grady (a very cool name, I think) has penned a short essay about a ballfield near his home, with a photo to demonstrate how badly it is in need of care. It's part of a contest being held by Briggs & Stratton -- a name familiar to anyone whose hands have ever been put to work on a lawn.

If he wins this essay contest, his team will be awarded $20,000 to put toward rehabilitating the ball park. And, today is the last day to vote.

In my mind, there's not a whole lot on this planet that makes for a more worthy cause than providing a field on which kids can play ball. Please go and give Grady a vote. He was thoughtful enough to enter his local ballpark into the mix, and took the initiative to make it happen. One little click can help create year after year of joy for a lot of kids and families in desperate need of something to get them away from the television.

Whatever the outcome, Grady has earned a lot of respect from this blogger. It's nice to know that baseball still lives in the hearts of kids these days, when there are so many reasons to be cynical.

Best of luck, Grady! No matter how the contest turns out, you're a champ!

Behold. . .

. . .the besotted horse's ass to whom I referred in one of my previous posts. The link is temporary, I think, and may not be available for very long. But, I couldn't help doing a little a Schadenfreude dance.

UPDATE: The link to the image of the above mentioned horse's ass has expired and been removed.

When I heard the news. . .

. . .that Arianna Huffington was starting her own blog, I was admittedly intrigued. I couldn't think of better lampoon fodder. Here I was, an upstart blogger in search of something I could sink my newly cut satirical incisors into, and along comes a former conservative divorcee flush with cash after splitting with her gay Republican husband not long after losing what, at the time, was the most expensive unsuccessful bid for a Senate seat in history.

Then, I visited the blog. It turns out, there's not much to lampoon over there. That is, unless you want to put yourself through the anguish of reading what "Skullcracker" Bill Maher, "Monkey Business" Gary Hart, and "Who the Hell Is" Haim Saban have to say. I don't, really. But, I did "look" at the homepage -- which is visually reminiscent of The Onion. I found myself looking down the page for a headline like, "Carnage ensues at area Segway rally."

No such luck.

Bipartisan Cheesecake

Just to show I'm not blinded by politics. . .

Norah O'Donnell

Now that I have a real job. . .

. . .blogging just doesn't come easily. Actually, I don't think it's so much the job itself as the fact that I'm getting my social life back. Suddenly, I find myself at home a lot less. This weekend, I took the opportunity to check in at some of my favorite old haunts, just to say hello to some folks I haven't seen in a while -- over a year, in one case.

I'm trying to develop some sort of schedule that will allow me to do some writing for the blog while fulfilling work and other commitments, as well as taking a distance learning course in paralegal studies. At the moment, my best recourse seems to be waking up very early in the morning, say, five-ish. I'm stunned at how little time lies between getting home and going to bed. I usually get home around 6:00 in the evening, and go to bed whenever I'm too tired to sit up any longer. That's just not going to cut it if I'm going to get any writing done at all. So, I figure I may as well give in to reality and start my days a little earlier.

Waking up at 5:00 a.m. will allow me a couple of hours to get some writing done before I have to hop in the shower and run out the door. Of course, I don't see myself being able to wake up that early every single day, but given a little luck and the good sense to stay sober on work nights, I should be able to pull it off more often than not. We shall see.

I think mornings are the best time to write, anyway. I used to be a firm believer in late night writing, but I've since determined that this is a myth created by writers in search of an excuse to sleep all day. At least that's the way I've pinned down my own rationale. But, inasmuch as I don't have the luxury of doing that any longer if I am to expect to stave off starvation, I've come to the conclusion that morning will have to be "my time".

So, now, I have get up from the computer and start pressing my clothes for work tomorrow. Then, it's off to bed.

Can one be both a cabana boy and a fuddy-duddy?

A very happy Mother's Day. . .

. . .wish to all the moms. This is the day to say "Thanks for not strangling me!" At least it is for me. The rest of you may not have been quite as trying.

I'll just be getting around to buying my mother's gift today, as I just now have a clue as to what I'm going to get her. It came from the same brazen temptress who sent me the peanut butter that so ruthlessly led me astray from my lifelong commitment to Jif. So, she's partially redeemed herself and may yet be allowed back into my circle of friends.