I’ve been out of town
a lot lately, so I didn’t really put much thought into writing a
column this week. I actually thought it might be a good idea to
skip it. Feature editor Tracy Gerharz and I apparently have
differing perspectives on this topic, however, so please suffer
along with me.
Are you up for a few random
thoughts while we await spring’s reluctant arrival? Me neither,
but if I have to do it, you can at least follow along.
The final season of “The Sopranos’
begins in a few days. There’s rampant speculation about how it
will end. How about this: History repeats itself.
Something happens to Tony, and his
son A.J. is forced to reluctantly take over. Carmela starts acting
like Tony’s domineering mother. Christopher becomes dead weight
like Junior. A.J. has to take care of his sister.
Just ike his dad, he is forced to
lead the life of a crime boss, something he never wanted. He will
soon be booking 50-minute sessions with Dr. Melfi.
Have you ever wondered why some
months have 28 days, others 30, and still others 31? Wouldn’t it
be easier if they all had 30 days and we had a five-or six-day
summer holiday between July and August? Rudy, Hillary, Barack!:
Anybody out there looking for a campaign issue?
If Sen. McCain and former Sen.
Edwards are feeling left out, I have one for them, too. Why can’t
the NCAA basketball finals, BCS football championship and Super
Bowl be played on a Saturday evening? Sunday and Monday nights are
not great times for celebrations!
How are your tournament bracket
sheets coming along? I have Wisconsin vs. Marquette in the finals.
I tend to vote with my heart instead of my head.
I’m not usually right, but at
least I always get to root for teams that I like!
That’s all I’ve got, which from
where I’m sitting, was way more than enough.
Thanks to all who made it this far.
As a reward, clip this column and take it to Ozaukee County
fitness guru Bobby G. You can redeem it for one free horseyback
ride around his parking lot. He’ll probably say he doesn’t
know what you’re talking about. Just get up on his shoulders,
yell “giidyup,” and tell him to get moving.