AM I BLEW

As I played golf today with some old buddies, I caught up on old times. Along with old times came a new expression.

"I think I can almost hear Linda."

I first heard it on Number 8. I thought, "they'll explain." They didn't. I heard it again on number 12. I knew that two of our foursome had a little contest on how many fairways and longest drives each could attain. But again, no hint, no follow up.

When we got to number 15, I asked. "Who's Linda?"

One word answer, and it made it all clear. "Ronstadt."

Her most famous song, "Blue Bayou." Thus, Mike's drive "blew by you" and your long drive.

It made perfect sense. He could hear Linda about to sing. Kinda like the fat lady singing. No offense Linda.

GOING TO THE DOGS

We were dog people. Always had one. Never two or more.

When I was in junior high, I started to get allergies. Somewhere, somebody told my mom that getting a chihuahua would help my allergies. It may have been my aunt who moved to AZ to help her son's asthma. I don't know, but Chiquita came into my life.

Now I haven't seen Bev Hills Chihuahua. I'll wait till it's shown on cable. But the dog in the poster looks like mine. The one at the forefront. Chiquita was so little.

"Sic 'em," was all she needed to attack. Sometimes just snaking the s sound would get her into that mode. But she would nip at your knees and ankles until you left me alone. As an eighth grader, you can imagine how many times I used her just to show off her ability and my great command leadership and training.

She was a pretty fun little gal and lasted until my college years, if I recall. After her, my parents went to poodles. Hey, they didn't have allergies.

As for me, I just went to allergan. And outside dogs.

I DON'T KNOW WHY IT IS

but people think straighter in a barber shop. So much so, in fact, that I think that's where polling places need to be. I mean for several years, the polls have been in churches, rec buildings, even garages.

But nowhere do Americans have any more answers than in barber shops. I know that means I sound sexist, but I can't comment on what goes on in beauty shops. Maybe the same thing, but I doubt it.

What makes me say that? Well, women usually go to a beauty shop to get beautified. Guys go to a barber to get cleaner. As long as men leave without a cut, nick, or scar, they're pretty happy. "Will you look at what she did to me?" "I'll never let her touch my hair again!" Face it: most women don't like their hair. No beautician could satisfy.

"I wish he had taken more off the top." That's about all you hear in the way of the male customer after a haircut. We may not like our hair any better than the gals; we just don't make a big deal out of it.

Besides, there are other reasons to go to the barber shop. "Can't do it now, Hon; gotta get a haircut." Plus we have to talk politics and straighten the world out.

Vote at the barber shop. Your choices will become readily apparent. And America will be better off.

WHAT IS IT ABOUT NOSTALGIA ANYWAY?



Maybe the further you go back in the old memory bank, the more endeared you are to it.



Friday nights in MTV have been special to me for years. Especially in the Winter. Chagnon (nee Vernois Gym) is one of the old gyms right out of the movie "Hoosiers". When you sat on the front rows on east and west sides, your feet were on the playing court.



A stage at the south end houses the rowdy fans and Pep Band. Directly across on the north side used to be the place the band played before a new administration took it over for coaches' offices and viewing for special fans. Although come to think of it, most all is now blocked off for viewing.



And high school basketball is huge in the State. For decades, the northern part of Illinois has ruled after they started taking the better coaches with offers of higher salaries. "No nevermind" as some still say in SoIL, or Southern Illinois, home of the Rams. People still love their round ball.



My first taste was in 1957, three years after the last state champion back when there was only one class system, only one state champ. Somehow I still think that appropriate. Back in '57, the band played "Smoke gets in Your Eyes," and even as a little kid, I liked it. After the game, Tommy, my best friend and I would gather up the used Coke cups and stomp them to get them to make noise.



Some were duds, but it didn't matter. Our ultimate purpose was to play basketball with them after the game ended as most were exiting the gym. After every game one of our parents would have to come into the gym to pick us up and take us home.



I don't think we were ever one of the last 25 to leave. We didn't even think that our parents might worry, because they knew we'd be shooting at the north basket with cups smashed.



You don't see those cups anymore. I'd like to buy some. Just to stomp.

WHAT MADE ME THINK I WAS READY TO BE PRESIDENT AFTER HAVING BEEN A U.S. SENATOR FOR 143 DAYS

I know. That's a long title. Think about what a long two years it will be. Minimum. Hang on and I'll explain.

If you fear the prospect of Barry O., think about this. The Dems will be in the White House and have a majority in Harry Reid's Senate and Nancy Pelosi's House. That's where the minimal two years comes in. They could be voted out; well, not Barry O, after two years, but voters being voters. It is scary.

Want more angst? Supreme Court nominees. At least two in the Obama years, possibly three. And you think the highest court in the land has been too liberal the last 15 years or so. Hold on.

One good thing. There'll be no more Wall Street losses. We won't have enough money to invest anywhere after this election. Now, that's not right. Every vote for the Dems will be a vote for Socialism. That's where we can invest.