Category: Sardonic Side

The recent deaths of Johnny Cash and Robert Palmer brought to mind a couple of my all-time, favorite lyrics. “My name is Sue, how do you do?” and “She’s so fine, there’s no tellin’ where the money went.”

As a matter of fact, they are flat-out my favorite song lyrics.

You were expecting “Let me call you sweetheart” or “I’m in the mood for love”?

Granted, we probably need a break from the usual news. Coronet, TECO poles, Acton, STAR project, desal, Toughman, taxes, coyotes, stormwater, Al-Arian, Zook and garden variety accidents, stick-ups, murders and fires. But enough of snakes — as news and as neighbors.

Within the last two months a 12-foot Burmese python and a six-foot boa constrictor escaped into neighborhoods. And then there was the guy who was bitten by his own black mamba.

We now know you don’t even need a permit to own a (non-venomous) constrictor — same as for Lhasa apsos. We now hear that among a certain set, anacondas are all the rage.

It’s enough to get the County Commission’s attention. It’s enough to get Kathy Castor and Ronda Storms on the same side.

The question “Who would want a really big or a really deadly snake?” should be a rhetorical one if it’s not being asked of a herpetologist. But it’s not. And here’s an actual answer from a guy who has maintained a home collection of venomous snakes for more than a decade: “Keeping a venomous reptile isn’t as insane as it sounds,” explained Larry Lemon of Sarasota. “More people are killed by horses than are killed by venomous snakes in this country.”

Wrong, Larry. That does sound insane. I’ll take my chances with Mr. Ed or Seabiscuit.

The country’s at war, unemployment is too high, homeland security feels inadequate and American foreign policy still seems arrogant and unilateral. But Congress is putting college football on notice that it doesn’t much care for the way a national champion is determined.

Keep up the good work.

And this just in. Momentum is now building in the House to undo anti-French backlash that had resulted in menu changes in the House cafeterias and dining halls. To wit: “freedom fries.”

As a result, french toast and french fries could soon return to their traditional “American” names.

Waytogo.

Next month a Tampa rock band, Hell on Earth, says it will feature a “live suicide” onstage during a performance in St Petersburg. The theater owner isn’t pleased, and the Hemlock Society isn’t impressed. To the police, it would be a second-degree felony.

What’s truly weird, however, is the group’s “right-to-die” rationale. Hell on Earth, whose on-stage antics have included chocolate-syrup wrestling and grinding rats in a blender, wants to “raise awareness for dying with dignity.”

There’s got to be a more dignified way.

The Sons of Confederate Veterans is campaigning for a confederate flag license plate. The controversy, of course, is over its message. It’s either pride in Southern heritage or a symbol of oppression. Can’t please everyone.

But can’t we at least agree on this? We need another specialty license tag like we need more referendum items.

Maybe I’m just old-fashioned. But I like plates adorned with “The Sunshine State” or “The Peach State” or “The Dairy State” or “The First State” or “The Garden State” or “Land of Lincoln.” I like those little, corny tag lines of individuality and state pride. For embellishment, I also like recognizing the home county.

Beyond that — from a favorite team or alma mater allegiance to views on abortion, education, the arts and the environment — isn’t that what bumper stickers are for?

Syndicated columnist Mark Shields recently did a piece inspired by the late sportswriter Jimmy Cannon, who used to write a “Nobody Asked Me, But

We haven’t heard the last of corporal punishment as a 21st century form of school discipline. Certainly not since it was upheld recently by the Hillsborough County School Board.

But here’s why a form of punishment that is as enlightened as putting people in the pillory is still with us: Some students — and it’s euphemistic to call them “brats” — need a good throttling, let alone a spanking or paddling.

But here’s why we shouldn’t permit it:

*It doesn’t work on those who warrant it most. Those already inured to violence aren’t exactly intimidated by the prospect of paddling. If they learn any lesson, it’s to even the score somehow.

*The ones who might find the experience behavior-altering are probably the ones with ACLU parents

I caught a snippet the other day of the Little League Softball World Series. The game matched teams of 11 -and 12-year-old girls from Upper Darby, Pennsylvania and Canada.

I saw this cute, freckle-faced tyke of an 11 year old at bat for Upper Darby. The graphic at the bottom gave her name and “The person she would like to meet.”

It was, uh, 50 Cent.

There’s no hope for the culture. None.

This just in: lawyers who learn their clients are white-collar crooks can tell authorities about it. And they need not feel like finks about violating client confidentiality.

That’s right. Per a recent ruling by the American Bar Association, restrictions have been loosened as to when attorneys can blow the whistle on clients who are up to no good, fraudulently speaking.

The ABA’s change of heart — in the aftermath of Enron, Tyco and WorldCom book-cooking — results in a formal position that declares, in effect, that serious societal concerns trump client confidences. It’s also seen as a pre-emptive move on government regulators who were starting to get heavy-handed.

According to incoming President Dennis Archer, the ABA has learned the lesson that a lot of little guys were devastated by those notorious accounting scams. “We’re talking about the employees who lost not just their jobs but their pensions,” pointed out Archer.

In the end, it made eminently good sense for the ABA to give its blessing to the disclosure of information that could forestall a financial crisis.

What makes less sense, however, is that the measure barely passed, 218-201.

B aseball: For as long as I’ve been following baseball, I continue to be dumbfounded by fan behavior. And I’m not even talking about losers running on the field to assault someone or those who ransom souvenirs emblematic of someone else’s achievement.

That’s part of the dysfunctional times we live in.

No, I’m talking about something that is fundamental to the game. Such as the rules.

Ever notice that when a pitcher fakes a throw, there automatically ensues a chorus of “balk?” Does anyone even understand what a balk is anymore?

The other is even more basic.

Fans, even those who bring their own gloves, cannot go after a ball in play. But they do; again and again. As if it were a front row entitlement. How’s this for a concept: only someone who is actually PLAYING — not someone who is paying to watch the playing — is permitted to field or attempt to field a ball in play? It doesn’t get more fundamental than that.

It’s a good thing they’re not allowed to bring bats.

Ted Williams: Enough of this unseemly family affair. Ted Williams: RIP. And it doesn’t mean rest in pieces.

Softball: I caught a snippet of the Little League Softball World Series the other day. One of those visual drive-bys you do when you’re on a stationary bike and you look up from your Wall Street Journal editorial page.

It was a team of 11- and 12-year old girls from Upper Darby, Pennsylvania against counterparts from Canada. I glanced and saw this freckled-faced tyke of an 11 year old at bat for Upper Darby. The graphic at the bottom of the screen gave her name, which escapes me, and “The person she would like to meet.”

It was, uh, 50-Cent.

There’s no hope for the culture. None.

Florida State: Yet another sign that the wheels are coming off of the FSU football program.

The last two years, of course, have featured too many losses and too much police blotter publicity. And thanks to Adrian McPherson, whose best play last year was a no-contest plea, the Seminoles may still have to do some explaining to the NCAA.

But here’s the final indignity. The ‘Noles’ Travis Johnson was arrested on a sexual battery charge. More embarrassing headlines. Fortunately for FSU and Johnson, he was found not guilty. In a postscript, however, an assistant state attorney criticized FSU for trying to settle the matter back in February. He called it “unacceptable and outrageous.”

But that’s not the final indignity.

The FSU defensive tackle was accused of sexually battering a female FSU shotputter, who nearly outweighed the 240-pound Johnson. In Tallahassee, even the Criminoles have fallen from previous standards.