What’s all the excitement…


I’m not a Patriots fan…

Now before all you locals get your Boston blue blood panties in a bunch…

Ever since Carroll Rosenbloom’s trophy wife shipped the Rams off to St. Louis I haven’t had a team. Working around the country for 25 years hasn’t really endeared me to to any football team.
This week all the talk is about Deflategate.

While the local crowd at Sully’s are bemoaning the 4 game suspension of Brady and everyone outside of the original Northeast Colonies are piling on.
At first I wondered which Brady everyone was talking about…

1953 Pat on toy horse JF



Pat Brady from the Roy Rogers Show?











Marcia Brady?










Oh, THAT Brady…








I get why people are acting this way – good looking, great athlete, rich, 4 Super Bowl rings, and he slips between the sheets with a gorgeous supermodel every night.

But what did he do?
He deflated his balls.

(I love saying that)

OK – so the rules say that an NFL game ball should be inflated to between 13.5 and 12.5 psi. I guess the Patriots were caught…ummm… with their pressure down…so to speak.

Back when football was worth watching, do you think Dick Butkus gave a damn if Bart Starr or Roger Staubach deflated their balls? I’m guessing Conrad Dobler taunted opposing linemen with, “What’s the matter boys? Deflated your balls this morning?”

The second half of the game ( with their balls pumped up to their full, round, plump capacity) the Patriots out scored the Ducks (sorry) Seahawks anyway.

I’m really more for the NASCAR attitude, “If ya ain’t cheating…Ya ain’t trying”

I’d rather see a penalty for exposed tattoos.

Which brings us to the subject of today’s message…pool toys.

In an amazing show of preparedness I cleaned out the fridge before leaving for our California adventure. 
Which meant we returned to a severe lack of food. Fortunately we don’t have to go hunting on the North River, because all I’ve seen out there in the last two years are some scrawny squirrels and a couple of swans with a bad attitude. And how the hell would you cook a swan…and pass it off as chicken?

Anyway, a trip to the local market was severely needed.
Ya know, markets aren’t like they used to be.
First off, they used to be called Grocery Stores – as in “This is where you buy food”. But now there are all kind of sections for items you used to go elsewhere for. You used to go to the florist for flowers, the drug store for drugs, the appliance store for kitchen tools, the hardware store for…well, hardware and the store with the windows painted out and the rear entrance for…uh, you know.

Now it’s all available at you local trying-to-be-friendly super market.

Their latest addition is the seasonal section. This is where anything that can be randomly classified as something with a short shelf life is stuck. There is where you find cake pans in the shape of the Statue of Liberty, Santa Claus potholders, Halloween toilet paper.

Today they are trying to horn in on the pool store. This is what I found.


OK it’s a pool toy. No big deal about that. But look on the side Yes, that is a warning label that is almost bigger than the pool toy whale.


OK Mommies and Daddies…

Put this thing in a pool – Make sure little darlings can swim – Put them in pool – Yell at older kids who get too rough – Turn off your stupid electronic toy and pay attention.

See it’s simple! And no need for a giant warning label that can be read from space…in three languages.

Enjoy the start of summer!!!!

No balls were deflated in the writing of this column…


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