Politics are funny

With Al Franken finally in office and everyone speculating on what Sarah Palin will do next, I think we’re missing the obvious. Franken, a former Saturday Night Live player, is moving on to big-time politics. It only makes sense that Sarah will complete this grand symmetry by joining the cast of SNL. And what a great career move it will be. Finally, Palin can utter ridiculous things once a week and people will laugh because they’re supposed to.

July 5 should be the new Independence Day

Because that’s the day this year that a million Mainers rushed outside all at once to mow their lawns, paint their houses, wash their cars, resuscitate their gardens, ride their scooters, talk to neighbors over fences, throw a ball around, climb a tree, barbecue hot dogs, bounce on pogo sticks and walk rather than sprint everywhere they went. For a few hours it was liberation from the rain and it was joyous. In future years, we should celebrate the date by firing up our weed whackers at a designated hour and saluting the sky with our middle fingers.

And speaking of weather forecasting

I take back every snide thing I’ve ever said, written or thought about Peter Geiger, editor of the Farmer’s Almanac. The man and his team of old-world experts told us this plague of yuck was coming and he was right. And now that we’re all beaten down and depressed in our soggy shoes, Geiger has the good grace not to thumb his nose at us. In the future, I will take everything he predicts as gospel and plan my drinking binges accordingly.

Lucky there’s a family guy

The people who zealously embrace the virtues of traditional marriage can boast a divorce rate of around 50 percent, but when it comes to collecting signatures to defend that way of life, they’re spot on. Congratulations. And now let’s all look forward to another long round of holier-than-thou good-time campaigning. 

Royally optimistic

As I write, the Kansas City Royals are going into a four-game series against the Red Sox. I have a trio of bets on the series and I can’t afford to lose them. So how will I be feeling as this piece appears on Sunday morning? On top of the world? Down and out and slimed in Fenway spit? I can’t discern the future. But I would like to use the remainder of this space to say to all of you Boston fans either: “Ha! Suckuuuuuus!” or “Leave me alone, I’m going back to bed.” 

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