I’ve no writing to promote this week, but if you have any ideas for feature stories I could pitch to the paper, let’s hear it.

Trifectas for the Delusional

Have you ever noticed how celebrity deaths always happen in threes . . . and twos and sevens and ones and fours. It’s almost as if they’re random events completely unrelated to each other in any logical respect except in the imaginations of the extremely impressionable. God, it’s so eerie.

Potent Quotable

To mother, on his return from a birthday party at Skateland South:

"I’m really good at skating. I just fall down a lot," V. Naumovich

Baseball: It’s Not That Bad

After the skate party we took in a Slider’s game courtesy of the ole company store. Despite promises of all the free hot dogs and drinks they could stomach, the kids were not excited about this outing. After about a half hour at the park, I didn’t think we’d make it to the ceremonial opening pitches.

Once the game started, however, something strange happened. They settled in and took a genuine rooting interest in the goings-on out diamond’s way. Maria, the most ardent pre-game descenter, was particulary interested in learning the rules and strategies of the game as the action unfolded before her. We made it all the way to the seventh inning before being frightened away by lightning.

I’m on record as not being much of a baseball fan but I’ll admit to enjoying the game as well. It helped that they scored many runs, although we missed the two homers while replenishing with food stuffs. A group of visiting high school students – in town helping with a Habitat house and bunking at Little Flower’s gym – kept things lively with their good-natured antics. The race-confused, alcohol-abusing loud mouths behind us, however, sent us seeking tranquility down the opposing baseline.

Viva Le Futbol

I’d be remiss about saying anything good about baseball without tempering them with a few words about soccer. You’re probably not aware, and clearly do not care, but the U.S. men’s national team’s victory over Spain last week was incredibly momentous. If we were baseball fans, this would have been occasion for tipping automobiles or dragging the sofa from the porch to the street and setting it ablaze. (Yes, I’m aware of the rowdy, oft-times murderous behavior of soccer fans. Indulge me my prejudices.)

Trivia Is Not Trivial

Speaking of the ugly side of competitive endeavors, like many of you Facebookies I’m quite involved with the Know It All trivia series. And perhaps like you, I’ll look and see how I’m doing in the standings against my friendly competitors. I admit that if I’m trying to improve my record against a particular player that I’ll stick to those subjects on which I’m strong. What I won’t do is retake a quiz to improve my score.

I’ve noticed on a couple of occasions that someone who I initially bested on a quiz had somehow, days later, wrestled the victory away from me. The only explanation for this I can think of is that, armed with the correct answers, they retook the quiz. I won’t name names (not you, Johann), but the purveyor of this despicable practice should know that I’m on to his monkeyshines.

Speaking of trivia, response to the latest BFS challenge has been dismal. I usually won’t post results until I get at least ten entries, but we may not reach that level of participation this time. This confirms my suspicion that nobody reads blogs anymore and are instead satisfying their trivia jones on Facebook where they are cheating.

Heard About Your Band

When touring bands stop in Springfield, they normally start their performance at or near the eight o’clock hour. A reasonable time for the concert going crowd.

Local bands start much later. An act headlining a three o’clock bar may not take the stage until well after midnight. This scheduling costs them a segment of the music-loving demographic, most notably, me. But even those with the ability to stay awake past 11:00 might be more amenable to an earlier starting time so that they can enjoy the music and then go out and do whatever it is people who aren’t sleeping do at three in the morning.

Tammy went to see a band, the Graduate, last evening and I would have liked to have heard them as well. But I’m wise enough to my ways to realize that after an entire day shuffling the kids around and then an evening at the ballpark, that slumber could not be denied. It’s sad, really.

Speaking of music, I’ll be back later this week to promote the American Music Show, year after year, the finest lineup of music that Springfield has to offer.