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OK, so there’s a debate raging over whether or not we should allow corporations to buy naming rights to an athletic field in Lewiston. As far as I’m concerned, this proposal doesn’t go far enough. Why stop at naming the field when there are so many other opportunities to advertise at local schools? Sell ad space on the sides of buses, on lockers, book bags, bathroom walls and, of course, on the students themselves.

Think about it. Who is out there in public view more than a school’s most popular kids? Buy some ad space on Johnny Bravo’s forehead and your company logo could be on display just about everywhere: at dances, at rock concerts . . . wherever cool kids hang out (I honestly don’t know). Or, if you’d rather, spend a few bucks and get your advertisement stamped on the sweater of the school’s head cheerleader. That’s a guarantee that you’re logo will be seen at least a thousand times a day by dirty old men at the mall. It’s brilliant!

For the budget conscious, you could offer cheaper ad space on nerds, geeks and kids named Elwood, who are never very popular for some reason.

Oh, no he DIDN’T!

At a Lewiston School Committee meeting to address this topic, enraged committee member Jim Handy suggested that colleague Sonia Taylor would “hold hands with the devil” by voting for naming rights for Franklin Pasture fields. Ouchie! You might as well just go ahead and accuse her husband, Doug, of watching the Harry Potter films in private.

What’s in a name?

I understand the need for corporate support, but I can’t help secretly (except for the part where I put it in print) hoping that the Treasure Chest adult store makes the school committee an offer they can’t refuse. Imagine what THAT logo would look like?

Having a devil of a time

If done right, a corporate name could dovetail almost seamlessly with the name of the school athletic teams. The Lewiston Dirt Devils, for instance. Lewiston Deviled Ham or even Lewiston Blue Devil in Miss Jones, if my Treasure Chest idea becomes reality.

Speaking of lunch meat

So, I’m riding my Suzuki out Broad Street in Auburn the other day when the world’s largest turkey flapped out of a bush and flew right in front of me, close enough that its wing clipped my fender. The thing must have weighed 150 pounds. If my trajectory had been a fraction of a second quicker, I very likely would have been taken out by the monster turkey, and how ironic would that have been? Every Thanksgiving you people would laugh so hard, sweet potatoes would squirt out of your noses. Who needs it?

Hide your brains

Seeing massive troops of cops, drug agents and other law enforcers marching through the streets of Lewiston? They say it’s a simple operation to combat crime, but police would neither confirm nor deny that the effort is also preparation for the looming zombie apocalypse, which – let’s be honest here – could happen at any time. And if they won’t confirm or deny it, then it’s got to be true. God help us all.

I might die

No more Dunkin’ Donuts at Shaw’s on East Avenue in Lewiston. There is absolutely no way I can make it from produce over to the bread aisle without a tank of joe to get me through.

Ha! OK, you caught me. What the hey would I be doing in the produce aisle?

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