Hot Air Biden

This is what my all-time favorite Vice-President Joe Bidumb said this morning on The Today Show.

“I would tell members of my family – and I have – I wouldn’t go anywhere in confined places now,” Biden said on NBC’s “Today” show.. “It’s not that it’s going to Mexico. It’s [that] you’re in a confined aircraft. When one person sneezes, it goes all the way through the aircraft. That’s me. …

“So, from my perspective, what it relates to is mitigation. If you’re out in the middle of a field when someone sneezes, that’s one thing. If you’re in a closed aircraft or closed container or closed car or closed classroom, it’s a different thing.”

Thank you, Mr. Science.

Now, here's the correction from the White House about an hour later.

“On the Today Show this morning the Vice President was asked what he would tell a family member who was considering air travel to Mexico this week. The advice he is giving family members is the same advice the Administration is giving to all Americans: that they should avoid unnecessary air travel to and from Mexico. If they are sick, they should avoid airplanes and other confined public spaces, such as subways. This is the advice the Vice President has given family members who are traveling by commercial airline this week. As the President said just last night, every American should take the same steps you would take to prevent any other flu: keep your hands washed; cover your mouth when you cough; stay home from work if you're sick; and keep your children home from school if they're sick.”

It's moments like this when I really despise politicians. What's more important? The health of the American people or the health of the airline industry?

Is it really safe for us to board a "confined aircraft" or have the lobbyists convinced the new administration that jobs are more important than lives?

Give it to us straight! We can take it!

At this point, I don't fully believe the swine flu is the potential pandemic that some scientists predict. But, then again, unlike the VP, I don't have access to the CDC data. I fear millions of people will die because the White House told folks not to cancel their vacations.

Yes, his kind of talk can create panic but should we be panicking? Is the Vice-President suffering from foot-in-mouth disease or, for the first time, does he actually know what he's talking about?

I'm boarding a plane on May 14. At least I know I won't be sitting next to any members of the Biden family.

A Sweet Story

A childhood friend of mine became a grandfather for the first time. His son-in-law, who is a Marine stationed in Iraq, was able to watch the birth of his daughter via the world wide web. Isn't technology great!

To add even more excitement to an already exciting day, the story was picked up by the press. (My brother received the text of the story in an email. Unfortunately, a link to the original source wasn't included.)

PROVIDENCE, R.I. -- "He made me breathe."

That's how Ashley Sousa described the way her husband, Nick Sousa, helped her as she gave birth to her first baby Monday at Women and Infants Hospital.

Nick, 22, was able to help despite being more than 5,000 miles away in Iraq, where he is stationed.

The Freedom Calls Foundation set up a Web-based teleconference so Nick, a corporal in the U.S. Marine Corps, could watch his first baby being born. Farrah Rose Gloria Sousa decided to come three weeks early.

Freedom Calls is a foundation that helps troops stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan communicate with their families back home for free.

Ashley's mother, Barbara Pierce; Nick's mother, Janet Diauto, and her cousin Stacey Murt were in the room coaching Ashley, while Nick coached her from Iraq, where he was set up in room with a computer, so he could see her and the baby.

On Tuesday, he had another videoconference to talk about the couple's surreal experience with the birthing of the baby. Ashley sat with her baby as a multitude of cameras from the news media recorded her and her husband, who appeared on a television screen. Farrah wore a pink hat that said, "I have arrived."

Ashley, who is living with her parents in Attleboro, said she was in a lot of pain as the baby came. She said Nick soothed her.

Nick said, in a way, it was good that he was far away, because Ashley was in so much pain she could have hurt him if he was nearby. The two are childhood sweethearts. They met at Attleboro High School, where she helped him in math.

Ashley said it was comforting to have him present.

"I can't put into words how grateful I am. He is fighting for our country right now. It was so great. Every contraction he said, 'Calm down,' " she said.

When he saw little Farrah for the first time, "his jaw just dropped," she said.

"She opened her eyes yesterday and I saw him in her eyes," Ashley said.

There's also video of an after-delivery interview with the new mom.

Congratulations on your newest family member and thank you for your service.

Devil Dogs

When I first read this story, I launched into my best Keanu Reeves' impression and said, "Whoa."

SEOUL, South Korea – South Korean scientists say they have engineered four beagles that glow red using cloning techniques that could help develop cures for human diseases.

The four dogs, all named "Ruppy" — a combination of the words "ruby" and "puppy" — look like typical beagles by daylight. But they glow red under ultraviolet light, and the dogs' nails and abdomens, which have thin skins, look red even to the naked eye.

While I love the idea of having a dog doubling as a night light, I'm not completely comfortable with a red dog, especially one that is only red in the dark. It seems more Stephen King than Clifford. Maybe if the dog glowed a soothing green or traditional white I wouldn't be so frightened.

But, if I go to a Korean restaurant and my beef BBQ has a reddish glimmer, I'll be sure to send it back.

The Birds And The Bees

Yesterday afternoon, I sat under a flowering cherry tree reading Dinesh D'Souza's The End Of Racism. Of course, the cultural relativists discussed in this book would have probably turned their collective noses up at my suburban American setting. For the 90 minutes I sat outside, I only saw 8 people and all of them were white, four were obviously heterosexual and one was fishing for sport rather than sustenance.

On page 142 of TEOR, D'Souza introduces his readers to Margaret Mead, lesbo social scientist who, back in 1928, sold millions of copies of her now-discredited book Coming Of Age In Samoa which should have been called Anthropology For Dummies.

Turns out a group of giggling teenage Samoan girls yanked Mead's anthropological chain by convincing her that Samoans were hippies before hippiness was cool. Their pro-adultery, pro-homosexual, pro-divorce lifestyle didn't exist at all. But Mead, took their fake message of Free Love to the masses and the masses ate it up.

I've often said that lefty comic Bill Maher "sees the world through jizz-colored glasses." I'm beginning to think the same applies to many liberals.

It's all about sex. They're against anything that will stand in their way of guilt free boinking. That's why they despise religion. Bill Maher believes the man upstairs is a real buzz kill to the one-eyed German living in his trousers.

Very early on in my life, I realized there were great disadvantages to whoring around which is why I chose to not whore around. My decision was based more on a biological morality that anything religious.

Sex can cause all manner of horrible maladies, just ask Hitler. The US couldn't kill him but syphilis did. (Oh sure, there was that little mess of a self-inflicted gun shot wound but that was the syphilis talking.)

I've always believed that if Man-- and by Man I mean Man and woMan-- were meant to have an abundance of multiple partners then there wouldn't be chlamydia or gonorrhea or AIDS. It's not God doing this to us, it's nature.

Fidelity and "Opposite Marriage"-- as Miss California calls it-- was probably a result of man discovering that sex can kill, much like he discovered aloe can make burns disappear.

Of course, I'm no anthropologist but I am smarter than Margaret Mead. At least I can tell when I'm being lied to by an eighth-grader.

Small Wonder

I had a great show last night in a theater just outside of Wilmington, Delaware. It took everything I had not to chastise the locals for voting Joe Bidumb into office over and over and over again. But, unlike Janeane Garofalo, I can ignore politics for the sake of good old fashion fun... and by good old fashion fun, I mean dick jokes.

My five new jokes went over really well. Not only am I sticking to my plan of breaking in one new joke per month, but you math majors will also notice that I appear to be ahead by one joke. Five jokes may sound like a lot of material until you realize they've only added about 1 minute and 45 seconds to my act... and that's only because two of them take 30 seconds a piece.

I spent the bulk of yesterday afternoon making travel plans for our trip to the Big Island, Hawaii next month. When folks hear that we're going to Hawaii they say, "Again?" Yes, again! Why not, again? We spent ten days in Oahu last August but, what was supposed to be a romantic 20th wedding anniversary trip, wound up being a family vacation with somebody else's family.

Since May 21 is the 25th anniversary of our first date we've decided to take the trip we really wanted to take in 2009.

Bad economy be damned! Our economic stimulus plan involves buying lots of coconut rum.

Eartha Day

Today I'm celebrating Eartha Day by wearing a catsuit and singing "Santa Baby" until the climate changes in my husband's pants.

(Yesterday, I posted this idea on Twitter with slight variations. See what you've been missing.)

Perez Hilton VS. Miss California

Poor Miss California. She gave an honest answer to a divisive, controversial question and, for this, she's labeled a "dumb bitch" by a man who draws penises on photos of celebrities.

"In my country, and in my family, I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman," Prejean replied.

Later, Perez Hilton, retracted his "dumb bitch" comment, opting instead for the more concise yet equally devastating cunt label.

Where was the outrage from Hilton when, during the primaries, candidates Obama and Biden said that marriage should be between a man and a woman? (So too did Sarah Palin, but she was a beauty queen and... you know... a "dumb bitch." But I digress.)



The dispute over the issue of gay marriage cannot and should not be decided by a 21-year-old beauty contestant who is parading around in a bathing suit. However, if the current president and vice-president can't get behind gay marriage, why is Hilton directing his anger at a young woman wearing a sash?

The question was unfair. Miss USA pageant officials should be ashamed of themselves for putting her in this uncomfortable position. Afterwards, her own state officials fired up the bus and threw her underneath.

Keith Lewis, executive director of California's Miss USA operations, said in a statement released to Hilton that "religious beliefs have no place in politics in the Miss CA family."

Really? Religious beliefs have no place in politics? Tell that to the Founding Fathers... and to the 44 Presidents who have held the highest office in our land. (Besides, a secular case can be made for the preservation of marriage as it currently exists. Plus she never mentioned religion in her answer.)

In yet another ridiculous statement, the gossip guru shows how pleased he is that Miss California did not capture the crown. "That's not the kind of woman I want to be Miss USA," he said. "Miss USA should represent all Americans and, with her answer, she instantly alienated millions of gays and lesbians and their friends."

And had she answered in favor of gay marriage she would have alienated the millions of Americans who believe otherwise.

In other words, Perez Hilton doesn't want a Miss USA who represents all America, he wants a Miss USA who represents his America.

Perez Hilton is the worse kind of activist: a bully who resorts to intimidation and name calling rather than having a substantive discussion on the topic at hand.

The real "dumb bitches" are the ones who allowed Perez Hilton to be a judge in the first place.

That's President Ignoramus To You , Pal!

I wasn't happy when President Obama bowed to King Abdullah. Nor was I pleased when our Commander In Chief gave Hugo Chavez a friendly soul shake. In fact, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if, in the spirit of change, POTUS eventually slips Fidel Castro the tongue.

I fear our new leader doesn't know the difference between benevolence and weakness. Suddenly, "Dad" President has been replaced by "Single Mom" President who is going to let her son's friends drink in the house because "they're going to do it anyway."

When did diplomacy become dupelomacy?

Chavez, who once called Obama an "Ignoramus" (who knew the South American dictator was an Archie Bunker fan), actually gave our president a worse gift than anything Michelle has ever purchased for visiting dignitaries.

According to the LA Times:

At one meeting, Chavez made a show of walking around the table as the cameras rolled and handing Obama a copy of "Open Veins of Latin America," a 1971 book by Eduardo Galeano chronicling U.S. and European imperialism in the region.

Barack Obama's reaction was disturbing.

He said it "was a nice gesture to give me a book. I'm a reader."

Either he is one of the great satarists of our time or he's a complete wuss.

Can you imagine what Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu would have said if Iran's Mahmoud Ahmadinejad had slipped him a copy of The Protocols of the Elders Of Zion? Would King Abdullah have said "thank you, kindly" had Obama handed over the hardback version of The Jewel of Medina? Would Korea's Kim Jong-il have been gracious after Russia's Putin dropped Cooking Dog For Dummies on his desk.

"I'm a reader?" Well, maybe you should start being a thinker instead.

How To Induce Vomitting

We saw this sign while driving in Massachusetts. I actually became nauseous.

Hot dogs and clams? Those two words should not even appear in the same sentence unless it's a euphemism for sex... and even then it's disgusting.

Boston Bound

We're about to point our rental car North for the six hour drive to Boston. We used to work Beantown quite a bit in the '80's and '90's but haven't done so in recent years.

We got a nice hit in the Boston Phoenix to coincide with our gig at Mottley's Comedy Club this weekend. We have family in the area so, hopefully, this trip will be for business and pleasure.

Philly's Northeast Times also ran a piece to promote our Comedy Works shows next weekend. We are media magnets!

Hobo Chic

I'm going to pitch a new reality show for shoe designers called "Sell Your Sole To The Devil." Each week, the footwear fashioners will convince gullible women to wear their ridiculous creations... then they will burn in hell.

The 2009 season will have no problem finding contestants.

This year's crop of spring shoe trends are so completely hideous that I would advise any shoe lover not to look down until fall.

Shoe stores (and eventually clearance racks) are bursting at the seems with huaraches, gladiators and the dreaded "bold straps" which makes a woman look like she has just twisted her ankles and spent the last few hours being taped up by a personal trainer.

"Leg men" must be devastated.

I reached my breaking point, however, when I opened my most recent Nordstrom catalogue.



It's Hobo chic! Apparently, we're all just one paycheck away from the homeless look.

I'm reminded of the Will Ferrell character in Zoolander, Jacobim Mugatu, who creates a line of fashion inspired by New York vagrants called Derelicte.

Perhaps the latest group of shoe designers think Zoolander is a documentary.

Has footwear become politicized? Will we eventually have formal Birkenstocks forced down our throats?

Well, at least in this bad economy, I won't feel compelled to spend any money on foot coverings. If my espadrilles, pumps and Dr. Scholl's don't last through summer, then I'll just walk around barefoot.

Taxman

The New First Dog

Have you seen the new first dog? Her name is Michelle Obama.

Oh yeah, I went there! Bang zoom!



His name is Bo. He's a Portuguese Water Dog. From this picture he looks like he's inherited the First Lady's fashion sense.

On the campaign trail, President Obama said he would adopt a dog from a shelter. Instead, he got the dog from Ted Kennedy. Now even our First Pooch is a snobola.

The White House says that a Portuguese Water Dog was chosen because of Malia's allergies. According to Wikipedia, "Though some breeders claim they are a hypoallergenic dog breed, there is no scientific evidence to support this claim."

So, the decision to adopt this particular dog was based on junk science? Great. What hope do we have for a sound energy policy if the President of The United States can't even find the time to check Wikipedia.

Home Sweet Home

We're finally home after 18 days on the road. My back was killing me on the plane last night so I washed down a pain killer with a little Wild Turkey. At one point, I actually drooled on my inflatable neck pillow.

I went grocery shopping at 2 AM because my brain is still on Vegas time. Right now my brain wants to lie by the pool and play nickel poker.

I have to be in Boston on Friday so my time in our humble abode will be frustratingly short. But, in this economy, I'm just happy to be working.

Harry Kalas RIP

Harry Kalas, the longtime voice of the Philadelphia Phillies died today. He was 73.

He was found unconscious in the press box at National Stadium this afternoon. Some folks are saying that he died "doing what he wanted to do." But, as my friend and fellow comic DJ Hazard pointed out, "Only people who commit suicide die doing what they want to do."

I'm going to miss Harry just as I missed Richie Ashburn when he passed away years ago.

Happy Easter/Happy Passover

In Vegas-- at least here on the Strip-- holidays don't really exist, unless they're drinking holidays.

Last night, I got my Easter/Passover fix by watching The Ten Commandments. Rarely do I make it through the entire ten-hour flick (at least it seems that long) so last night was no exception. There should be a new commandment "Though shalt not abandon a bible epic 3/4 of the way through to go play nickel slots."

I love The Ten Commandments. It wasn't until I was a teenager that I realized it wasn't an Easter movie. As far as the actual Ten Commandments go, I can probably only name six or seven. I'm sure I've broken a few over the years but, fortunately, I have no desire to covet they neighbor's wife so at least I'm safe on one of them.

Cecil B. DeMille is lucky that God was such a theatrical deity. All those plagues, fires and water tricks made for a visually interesting film. Had Moses decided to become Pharoah-- so he could subsequently free the slaves-- the movie would have been about as exciting as The Last Hurrah.

How Do You Say "Duh" In Chinese?

According to the Stereotype Handbook, Chinese people are supposed to be good at math. This story may prove otherwise.

BEIJING – China has 32 million more young men than young women — a gender gap that could lead to increasing crime — because parents facing strict birth limits abort female fetuses to have a son, a study released Friday said.

The imbalance is expected to steadily worsen among people of childbearing age over the next two decades and could trigger a slew of social problems, including a possible spike in crime by young men unable to find female partners, said an author of the report published in the BMJ, formerly known as the British Medical Journal.

A blind person could see that one coming!

As a former female fetus, I have always been appalled by gender selection. As a former female baby, the thought of infantcide sickens me. As a current middle-aged woman with dysfunctional reproductive organs, I have always loved the idea of being able to travel to China for some little girl take-out.

China doesn't deserve women. They need women but they don't want them. And you know if these lonely, horny men become violent, their primary target will be... women.

So, the only solution I can see is for the women of the world to get together to promote male homosexuality in the PRC.

Let's hire some female pilots to regularly air-drop millions of CD's of the Pet Shop Boys, complete DVD box sets of Wil & Grace and autographed 8 X 10's of a shirtless Rupert Everett. We could sew rainbow flags with little hammer and sickles in the middle. In a twist on India's old transistor radio in exchange for a vasectomy program, we could distribute cell phones with ABBA ringtones. (Yes, I consulted the Stereotype Handbook for my diabolical plan.)

Gay men would never hurt women. In fact, the mothers in China would be elevated to saint status. Eventually, the gay men would want to adopt the girl babies so they would have a good life as well.

Of course, this means that someday the 500 million Chinese women won't be able to find a mate. No problem. I'm sure there are plenty of Western men who would like nothing better than to have as Asian wife. Which means in only one generation, the country will be filled with half-Chinese men who may reject this ridiculous notion that women are inferior.

Perhaps I should notify the State Department. Or maybe I should just go to Panda Express for some orange chicken.

ICE ICE Baby!

Since I'm the comic's wife this week instead of the comic, I've actually been able to see a few shows here in Vegas while my comic husband is working. (Comped, of course. What good is having connections if you don't use them?)

The other night I went to see "ICE," the production show which replaced SPLASH here at the Riviera. Hubby said, "Maybe they just turned down the heat."

On previous stays here at the Riv, we witnessed the all-Russian ice skating cast eating in the employee cafeteria. The amount of food these thin people consume in one sitting was mind boggling. They'd hunch over their plates like Russian bears (if bears used plates) and joylessly inhale substantial mounds of carbs. I was afraid to sit too close for fear of losing a limb.

After seeing the show, I can now understand why they needed so many calories. They do things on ice skates that people shouldn't be doing without ice skates.

For 90 minutes people were flying, juggling, flipping, balancing and cycling... on ice. The only thing they didn't do on ice was break out in a NHL-style brawl. At one point, one of the females, who was skating on stilts, fell, causing the audience to gasp. Seconds later she was back up, flying through the air. I would have cried and quit on the spot.

Back in the late '80's, after one of our shows at Catch A Rising Star in Bally's, we caught a cab downtown to see "Nudes On Ice" at the Union Plaza. To this day, it remains the greatest title for any Las Vegas revue. But, in reality, seeing naked women skate was more humorous than erotic. My husband loves female ice skaters but even he couldn't stop laughing. Plus we couldn't figure out why, if they were on ice, their nipples weren't hard.

Apparently, "ICE" toyed with the idea of adding a late night topless review. I'm glad they didn't. Watching a bare-breasted woman hit the floor like a sack of potatoes would be too disturbing for most folks.

Yesterday afternoon, we walked the length of the Vegas Strip to see Defending The Caveman. (Don't even ask if we paid.) On the way, we stopped by my favorite spot, The Conservatory at the Bellagio to see all the pretty flowers. Tomorrow I may go see the Riv's newest attraction, "Laser Floyd." We're calling it "Laser Floyd The Barber."

Not-So-Happy Meal

Dear McDonald's CEO,

I know people stay up all night in Las Vegas but does that really mean you need to blast music 24 hours a day from your newest McDonald's located on the Las Vegas Strip? I'm staying across the street at the Riviera and I'm forced to sleep wearing earplugs.

I'm up at 8:30 AM because the earplugs stopped working. I shouldn't be up this early. Nobody should be up this early in Vegas!

Normally, I would walk over to McDonald's and order a hot cakes breakfast (hold the sausage) but I'm so angry right now, I'm afraid I would open up a can of whoopass (are the kids still saying that these days?) on the unsuspecting cashier who is forced to take my order.

It took everything I had not to wander over there in my nightgown at 4 AM and scream, "Would you turn down that damn stereo!"

I feel like I'm being tortured at Gitmo.

Please stop. Please, please, please stop. I'm tired. I'm tired of listening to the Eagles. I just want to sleep.

Sincerely,

Traci Skene
former customer

Let It Ride!

As hubby and I were standing in line at Slots O' Fun, waiting for our $1 Happy Hour draft beer, I started thinking about America's bad economy.

I thought about it even more as we sat playing the nickel slots.

I realized that if we felt more secure with our finances, we would probably be drinking Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey from fancy glasses and shoving money into a dollar poker machine.

Wow, we really are suffering. (Yes, the sarcasm light is flashing.)

No doubt, Las Vegas is being hit hard by the current recession but there aren't people selling apples on the street. There are women named Apple selling themselves on the streets but they were doing that during the "go-go" '80's. In other words, construction may have halted in spots, showroom attendance may be off slightly and gambling revenues are down but it's still hardly the stuff of the Great Depression.

I had to leave Ross today because it was too crowded.

During the Great Depression my grandma was not shopping for bargains on a clearance rack. She was making coats for her kids out of leftover canned hams. (I may have some of the details wrong.)

My point is, folks may be altering their lifestyles somewhat but the fun hasn't stopped yet... at least not in Vegas. Hopefully it never will.

Kickin' It Old School

We left Los Angeles yesterday after an all-too-brief stay, pointed our car east and set out for Las Vegas.

The trip fell somewhere between pleasant and unpleasant. We stopped off at at one of the "just across the border" casinos to empty our bladders. While I was still in the restroom, hubby hit for $7.02 at a penny slot machine. We actually had to wait for an attendant to give us our loot. We lost two bucks in an adjoining machine waiting for him to arrive.

We took our winnings and purchased two $1.00 hotdogs which were the size of actual dogs. By the end, I had the shivers.

Last night, we decided to stay in downtown Vegas better known now as the Fremont Street Experience. It's the place where 99 cent shrimp cocktails still exist. (Although after the giant dog I was not in the mood for seafood.) The place is teeming with twenty-somethings drinking daiquires from giant plastic cups, old people watching the light show while hanging on to walkers and the tattoothless giving money to the homeless. I love kickin'it old school.

Now we're sitting at a McDonald's on the world famous Las Vegas Strip spending $2.95 for internet access. (The kids sitting next to us are frighteningly obnoxious. I'll be shocked if I make it out of here without a Happy Meal landing on my keyboard.)

It's day 10 of of our southwest trip. Here are some pics we've taken over the last week and a half. We still have 7 more days until we fly home. I plan to spend my days lazing by the pool, soaking up the sun. I need to get rid of my recently acquired sock tan.

Slippers Would Make The Perfect Accessory

The French were allegedly "wowed" by Michelle Obama's fashion statement, but I think she looks like she's wearing Grandma's housecoat.


Mrs. Sarkozy reminds me of Grace Kelly or Audrey Hepburn. In Mrs. Obama I see Mrs. Doubtfire.

On the right, is how you wear fashion. On the left, you hire a publicist to convince the press and the public that you know how to wear fashion.

Oy, My Aching Back!

We all know the right way and the wrong way to pick up a box.



But when you're moving-- or in my case this week, helping a relative move-- the proper technique for picking up a box only lasts about as long as it takes to move the first dozen or so. After awhile, exhaustion takes over and you wind up not only lifting with your back but also kicking boxes down the hall, throwing objects out of the window and stuffing so much crap into trash bags that you look like the Grinch who stole Christmas.

For the last two-and-a-half days, I have been almost crippled with back spasms. It hurts when I sit down, it hurts when I stand up, it hurts when I lie down and then try to sit or stand.

I can understand why so many Hollywood stars with back problems become hooked on pain killers.

Since my first wince of pain, I have been taking a combination of Tylenol, Ibuprofen, Hydrocodone, Aleeve and white wine. Not all at the same time, of course. I may be dumb but I'm not stupid.

Tomorrow we have a six-hour drive from Phoenix to Los Angeles. I'm praying my back feels better by then or I'm in for a very long ride.

Giants 10, Rangers 3

One of the things on my "Bucket List" is to help rid the world of people who use the term "Bucket List." I refuse to trivialize my lifelong dreams by referring to a bad Jack Nicholson movie I suffered through on a plane.

Yesterday one of my dreams was fulfilled when I finally attended a spring training baseball game here in Arizona. Of course, my childhood desire has always been to watch the Phillies play in Clearwater, Florida but, as you get older, you realize that wishes occasionally have to be modified.

My dad lives four miles from Surprise Stadium, home of the Kansas City Royals and Texas Rangers. Built in 2002, the 10,500 capacity arena is just part of a sprawling athletic complex.

Our seats were perfect... front row down on the right field line. Yes, there was an element of danger whenever a lefty was at bat but it was still the best view I've ever had for a professional ballgame. Only once did I have to jump out of the way of a ball, practically landing on the lap of the woman sitting two seats away.

Being a national league gal, I wasn't completely familiar with many of the players on either the San Francisco Giants or the Texas Rangers, but it didn't matter. I was just there to watch baseball and eat a freakishly big hot dog.

The Rangers entered the field just feet from where we were sitting. Kids would congregate along the rails to get autographs and high fives from their favorite players. All of the Rangers were so nice to the youngsters it almost made me cry.


We snapped a picture of Ranger's star Josh Hamilton as he spent time with his adoring fans. Hamilton was out of baseball from '01-'06 for a drug suspension. His comeback is miraculous and he seems to appreciate the second chance. Not only did he hit 303 last year with 32 homeruns, but he really took his time with the folks in the stands.

It was a glorious day. I can sleep better knowing that there is one less thing I need to do in my lifetime. Or I won't sleep at all thinking I might die now that I can.

Perhaps I should modify my dream to include all of the spring training stadiums. That way I'll have a reason to live!