THE IDOL CONTINUES

I was not an early American Idol viewer. Actually, until MTV's Jordan McCoy was on the show in the Summer a few years back, I'd never tuned in much at all. Since I had had both her parents in class and knew her grandparents as well, I had to watch.

And I watch it fairly consistently now. Tuesday night's show was one of the few times I haven't agreed with the assessments of the judges. Especially Simon. He may be mean, he may say things for the shock effect, but basically I agree more with him than Randy/Paula. The / is there because they never disagree; thus, they are one.

Seacrest is becoming pretty annoying. I liked him better two years ago. He wants to slam Simon too much.

This year's performers are talented, nice looking, smooth, or overrated. First, the talented: Melinda Doolittle, Jordin Sparks, and LaKisha Jones can really sing. It would be hard to separate or select the best of those three, though if pressed, I'd say Melinda.

The nice looking--Haley Scarnato, hands down. Or should I say she has a leg up on the competition? The smooth would be Blake Lewis, whom I'm starting to appreciate a little more and Phil Stacey, who despite his unusual looks is pretty smooth though unexcitable. The overrated have to be Sanjaya Malakar--one of the worst (I know sponsored by Howard Stern fans) since Chicken Little last year and plain old Chris Richardson.

I'm rooting for Sanjaya to go (hey, if Stern's for him, then how can I be for him?) and if he hangs around another week, then I'm rooting for Chris to go, just because I don't think he's anything special.

And whom would I vote for? Probably Jordan, but any of the women would be my choice over any of this year's men.

SPRING EGGS AND ALL

Just over one year ago, I stood at the Western Wall at the temple in Jerusalem. Better known as the Wailing Wall. On Good Friday 2007 I thought we needed a wailing wall or two in the U. S.

But let me back up. Our San Diegoan daughter called this morning to tell us about her Opening Day tickets to see the Padres. Prior to the game, she said she had an event to take part in today--A Spring Egg Hunt. It was bad enough when she had to work at an event which boasted a Holiday Tree back in December. But a Spring Egg hunt made me want to wail and thrash and throw up. But I remembered a lecture from Bible Study Fellowship. Appropriately enough it was delivered last Monday evening and went something like this.

Christainity robs humanity of the option of being able to save themselves. They resist biblical Christainity as being too narrow. Thus, they create God in their own image. So it's up to us to point out that it's not a cultural Christainity but a biblical one. The more we stand for Christ the more we offend people who will react with persecution towards us. We are not to react, but respond. We are to be empathetic and bless them, not curse them. We are to try to promote harmony. Don't buy into the sin, but buy into the sinner. We cannot argue them into the kingdom. But we can love them sincerely. People are made for fellowship with God and in His image; therefore they are worthy of our love.

Thanks to Dennis Roberson, our discussion leader, I no longer feel disdain about some group calling an Easter Egg Hunt a Spring Egg Hunt. I still love them. But I love the Lord more and am so happy for what He did for me on Good Friday so long ago.

WHY CAN'T I DRINK TEA?

I learned to drink coffee. And tell me that beer's not a acquired taste. Cokes used to burn my nose when as a kid I would burp from carbonation. Thankfully I don't drink very much of any of the three, though Mountain Dews are a vice of mine. And I do get on Diet Coke runs once in awhile.

But I can't stand tea. And I wish I could. It's offered so many places where sodas are not an option. Water scares me. Drinking from the tap, I mean. I blame it on Rend Lake water--the worst water ever.

A few years ago a high school golfer died from drinking water from a cooler on the golf course. Needless to say, it reconfirmed my fears of water that's not bottled. And I know it looks like I'm a prima donna when I order bottled at restaurants, but I've paid the price, so I choose to look snooty or paranoid. But hey, I live in Scottsdale: I'm supposed to act that way, according to some.

But tea, which is brewed, is made from boiled water. So that solves my problem. Now, if I can just get past the taste.

A LINE THE DUKE MIGHT HAVE SAID

Surfing. Channels that is. I don't care for most commercials. And there are far too many for me. Most are repetitious, simply because my tastes in tv programming run the gamut from A to D. Not much more. So to avoid seeing the same ones over and over, I click.

So without further adieu, these bits are what I found when surfing the tv and writing down what I heard.

I can give you advice. I'm great at advice./ The stuff's here and there's a lot of it./ Wanna bet?/ Someone exactly like you--the best is yet to come./ If the truth can be told, we can make it together./I was just looking for my office./ I'm coming for you./ What if I say no?/ When I left home she was not very well./ What was his secret?/ Para los ninos./ She's going to find someone else she likes better./ I need your help./ You want to come over and sleep with me, right?/ I wish they'll all be gone./ That's what we need--excitement./ Sounds like it's time to play./ I have it in beige, classic white, avocado./ Probably the best place is Home Depot./ You don't work for me anymore.

So what does it all prove? I don't know, but if I were teaching Creative Writing, I'd assign a short story to be written using one of the tv lines. But somehow, I don't see Mr. Wayne uttering any of the lines. Tv's become such a wasteland.

THE ILLUSIVE SECOND BASE IN WATER BASEBALL CIRCA 1987

We swam the bases that Summer ad many after that. Hitting the rubber ball with open palm. Not too hard, for if it went out of the pool and went rolling down the hill or under a pine among pines, just the opposite of Old Crosley's Field terrace and the one in Houston, then you were out.

Out for slugging it? You bet. Because wet feet out of the pool brought in unwanted loose grass clippings or residue onto blackened feet to spoil the pristine chlorination of water baseball.

First base was steps, third an underwater bench, both easily attainable with outstretched arms, brown with Summer.

Second base was imaginary; some had to stand on tip toe because the pool started to get deeper there. It was as illusive or illusionary as major league second base when the shortstop turns a double play and doesn't get too close for fear of contact. The phantom touch.

Interruptions occurred when horse flies had to be swatted (Mike Bevis attracted more than anybody and they made him pay with huge welts) or food had to be cooked and eaten. It was quite simply the best game on block and provided hours of great Summertime fun.

OPENING DAY

I always get sentimental about Opening Day. It's just such an important day. This year is no different. Well, a little. Because the St. Louis Cardinals are reigning World Champions.

All the glitz, hype, ceremony were displayed in St. Lou last evening. They trotted out Gibson and Sutter and Wainwright for the ceremonious first pitch(es). What a coup! What marketing agent came up with the idea of having the pitchers who threw the final pitch in the last three worlds championships for the team was a near genius.

They brought out The Man, Mr. Musial. Ruth in New York, Banks in Chicago, Musial in St. Louis. There simply are no others that represent their cities like those three. At age 86, Stanley Frank is revered in that town as he should be.

They brought out Javier, McCarver, the ubiquitous Mike Shannon, Whitey, Red, Andujar, Hernandez. Almost all but Ozzie who had a scheduling conflict. Yeah, right. As long as Tony is around, Ozzie won't be.That's the conflict. In one of the longest running grudges I've seen.

And, oh yeah, the Clydesdales. And the World Series banner. Along with a stadium--scratch that--ballpark (it is a ballpark now) display of the 10 World Series won by the Cardinals.

Oh yeah, and then they played the nationally televised game. One team showed up. It wasn't the Cardinals. But Winter's over. There are 161 more games. And then the playoffs. Lots of baseball, lots of hot Summer days and nights. And hopefully, because all teams have hope at this time of the year, another world championship.