As you know by now, a new head of the Roman Catholic Church has been chosen and he is Pope Francis. Pope Francis is said to be a man of the people and even used to take the bus to work. He wants to relate to the common man and has said that instead of Pope Francis I, people should simply refer to him as Frankie the Pope.

He comes from Argentina, the country that gave us Eva Peron, the Falkland Islands, and gauchos. His parents emigrated to Argentina from Italy so he is really an Italian by heritage, thus slipping through the loophole of hiring Italians to be pope. Pope Francis originally wanted to be a chemist but when he saw bread and wine transubstantiated to body and blood and thought that was the coolest chemistry of all.

The pope is 76 years old which many people see as another old guy, but I say that if he made it to 76 years on only one lung, he’s good for another couple of dozen. Yes, you read that correctly, the pope has only one lung, having lost the other to disease as a child. For this reason, only 1 candle will be placed on his next birthday cake. Blowing out 77 with one lung is far too taxing.

The pope now gets to wear red shoes, which, if you ask me, is reason enough to want to be pope. I would love to wear red shoes but I think they would clash with my blue suit. The pope doesn’t have to worry about clashing because all of his clothes come pre-matched. It’s kind of like religious Garanimals.

And let’s not forget the hats. The pope gets to wear a hat everywhere he goes be it a simple skull cap of the more festive mitre. He doesn’t even have to remove his hat for the national anthym. Again, I would love to be able to wear a hat everywhere because it would cover up my bald spot.

The best news to come out of this election is that now that it’s over, the Sistine Chapel is open once again for tours. Tell them Frankie sent you.

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I am fed up and have had it up to here (I am currently holding my hand at eye level) with our government. It seems like all they want to do is control our lives down to the second, or in the most recent case, down to 3600 seconds.

Two days ago we re-entered the government mandated ritual of Daylight Savings Time. For the last 95 years we have been springing forward and falling back because the government tells us to. Well, pardon me Mr. Government but have you ever considered the needs of the citizens?

DST was originally developed in 1918 when Congress wanted to come up with a way to remind people to change the batteries in their smoke detectors. They changed the time to help the farmers and since 95% of the population at the time were farmers, they passed the bill. The problem is that nobody ever asked the farmers.

Even though we are no longer an agrarian society, we still implement Daylight Savings Time. It may or may not help the farmers but it is a pain in the butt cheeks for the rest of us. Every spring we are required to adjust our time pieces ahead one hour. We must do this on the designated day at precisely 2 AM or risk arrest by the chronology police. In the fall, we repeat the rite but this time we adjust our clocks back by one hour. The problem is that this process of saving “time” actually costs us time.

For starters, it takes a lot of time to reset all of the clocks in your house, especially the new electronic ones because before you can reset it you have to look for the manual to find out how to do it. I prefer the clocks where you turn a little knob on the back to change the time but I have some clocks in my house that require an engineering degree.

After you have reset al of your clocks, you have to deal with the loss of an hour. Because this loss happens at 2 AM, you are also losing an hour of sleep. You will wake up in the morning groggy and out of sorts. It may take you a day to recover or it may take you a week, but it’s going to take some time before you can go to sleep at your normal bed time and wake up refreshed in the morning. Then there’s the adjustment on bodily functions.

As you age, your body becomes used to a routine. It knows when to eat, when to sleep, and when to wake up in the middle of the night to pee. It knows ALL of your bodily functions. So, if you are used to occupying the water closet at 7 AM, your body won’t be ready for another hour, but by them you will be on your way to work and have to stop along the way or hold it until you reach your destination. Either choice is a disruption of your routine.

All of this adjusting has caused me to suffer from stress and anxiety and I have decided to sue the government for retribution. I am using the income I paid taxes on last year and divided it by 2,000 work hours per year. The resulting figure is what I am suing for plus shipping and handling and pain and suffering. Let me know if you’d like to join me.

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BRINGING BACK BASEBALL

 It’s baseball time in America. The teams are back in Spring Training and before you know it the real season will be underway and will last for the next seven months.

The disturbing thing is that of all the professional sports in this country, baseball’s popularity seems to be waning. Professional football, basketball and hockey are rising in popularity, and professional soccer nobody really cares about anyhow, but poor baseball, once deemed the “National Pastime” is falling by the wayside.

I noticed it this last season while watching games on TV. Every game I watched featured teams playing to less than packed stadiums. My team, the Chicago White Sox was in first place for most of the season but played most of the games in a half-filled park. Of course it probably didn’t help that I watched the games on TV instead of going there but that’s neither here nor there.

Attendance at baseball games is not the only indicator of unpopularity, but the televised games don’t pull the same audience numbers that they used to. So let me address these two issues separately.

First, attendance is down at ballparks because it’s just too darn expensive. Baseball, as I remember it, was a family sport where you could afford tickets and hot dogs for the whole brood, but today, if you have more than 0 kids, it becomes an expensive proposition.

Not only are ticket prices through the roof, but you have to add on $25 to park, $4.50 for each hot dog, $8 for each beer, and if you want a souvenir, be prepared to take out a loan. Taking a family of three to the ball game used to be a matter of $50 but now it’s $3,509* (this is an estimate but I think I’m pretty close.)

So, if you want to get more people to the park, lower the ticket prices, keep the food prices commensurate to the same food purchased anywhere else, and stock some souvenirs that don’t require a credit check.

The other reason for baseball’s decline is that the game lasts too darn long. A basketball game takes two hours, a football game three, but baseball can take an eternity because there is no game clock involved. Baseball is a long game and long games cause us to fall asleep and lose interest, so to bring back baseball’s popularity I have proposed a few rule changes to make baseball a shorter yet more entertaining game.

HOW TO IMPROVE THE GAME OF BASEBALL

1. An intentional walk is given by a wave of the hand. No need to throw four balls out of the strike zone. (time saved – 8 minutes.)
2. The pitcher is allowed to throw at the batter if the catcher warns him first. (this is not designed to save time as much as it is entertaining for the spectator.)
3. Any foul ball with two strikes is the third strike. (time saved: 9 minutes)
4. The pitcher is on your own team. This way you know all of the balls will be right over the plate and hittable. Balls count as strikes.
5. You only get 2 outs instead of three. This shaves off a third of the time right off the top.
6. No stretch in the seventh inning. Everybody should just stretch when they need to, no organized stretching. Instead, in the seventh inning, one player stands on second base and hits fungos up into the crowd for two minutes. A real crowd pleaser.
7. Put in a slaughter rule. Just like in intramural softball, if one team gets ahead by 10 or more runs, the game is over.
8. A tie is a tie. No extra innings. The winner is determined by an old fashioned Home Run Derby. (time saved: Anywhere from 30 minutes to hours)
9. If a fan catches a foul ball, the batter is out. (time saved: 13 minutes)
10. Add cheerleaders and time always passes quicker.

If you have any ideas for improving and shortening the game of baseball, please let me know at justjoking@aol.com or on Facebook, Dale Irvin.

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I was down at my local grocery store the other day to pick up some anti-fungal cream and a gallon of milk. When I was checking out the overly cheerful clerk gave me my change and said, “Have a good one.” This comment stopped me in my tracks and I turned back to the gentleman. “What? did you say?” I queried and he repeated his mantra, “Have a good one.” to which I responded, “Have a good what?”  That’s the problem with people today.

They aren’t specific enough. That is why there are so many “misquotes” among politicians. People will say “Take it easy” while not making clear exactly “what” we should be taking easy. Do they mean: Take it easy on those sweets; take it easy on the road; take it easy until the stitches come out; take it easy with that compulsive gambling; or take it easy, that hurts. Nobody knows because the people who are wishing you “ease” won’t tell you.

The same holds true for “have a good one.” That’s too broad of a statement for me. If someone is wishing me well, I want to know exactly what they are wishing for. If you want me to have a good day, then simply say “Have a good day.” If you are wishing me agood week, say “Have a good week.” I don’t care what you are well-wishing me,  but before I can accept your greeting, I need to know what it’s all about.

So please tell me what I should have that’s good. Tell me exactly, “Have a good day; Have a good week; Have a good fortnight; Have a good life; a good summer; a good holiday; good meal; a good bus ride; a good night’s sleep; have a good poop!” If you wish me well, let me know what kind of wellness to expect. That’s all I ask.

Well, I don’t have to tell you that the pencil-necked clerk looked at me like I was speaking Portuguese and eventually blurted out, “Have a good Thursday sir.” And I said “Thank you, that’s all I was looking for.” The puzzling thing about his comment is that it was Monday.

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You have no doubt heard that Pope Benedict announced his retirement. He is stepping down for health reasons and is the first pope to do so in over 600 years. He must be really sick. I feel bad for him not just because he’s ill but because there’s probably no papal retirement plan in effect. Since this hasn’t happened since 1415 when Pope Gregory XII retired to spend more time with the family, nobody ever thought about a retirement plan for a job from which no one retires. Now they have to figure out what to do with an unemployed pope with no benefits.

For starters, where is he going to live? The new pope will no doubt get the corporate condo so where is the old pope supposed to go? There is no Old
Pope’s Home. Will he have to room with the new Pope? If so, wouldn’t that make a great sitcom idea. Two and a half Popes.

What about health and dental insurance? Does an ex-pope still qualify or will he have to go on COBRA for a while? And what about a pension. Is there a papal pension? They have to at least give him rent and living expenses. Perhaps a separate collection could be taken in churches worldwide for the pope’s retirement fund.

Also, I want to know what happens to the pope’s stuff. Does he get to keep the fancy hat and the red shoes? Will there be a papal estate sale to sell off his stuff before he moves out? You might get a deal on an incense burner.

At least he gave two weeks notice but that doesn’t give the cardinals much time to come up with a replacement. Pretty soon they’ll all get locked in the conclave and wheel and deal to come up with a new boss. Nobody on the outside knows what goes on in the conclave but I envision them smoking cigars and trading promises. All we have to go by on the outside is the plume of white smoke indicating that they are still smoking cigars.

I don’t know who is in the running for the next pope but I might suggest somebody like Mel Gibson. We know he’s Catholic and he does bring a certain star power to the job. Who knows, he might get a whole new generation of Catholics interested in the church.

Another idea might be Mitt Romney. Oh sure, he’s a Mormon, but this is the guy who fixed the Winter Olympics for crying out loud. It’s the same God, just different saints. I’m sure he’ll get the hang of it.

Of course tradition will demand that the next pope come from the current college of Cardinals so the Cardinals who want the gig are out pressing the flesh and making deals with their brethren to get the nomination and the nod.

Meantime, the gift shops in Vatican City are marking down all of the the Pope Benedict merchandise and getting ready for a new influx of products like Pope (your name here) coffee cups, t-shirts, and the always popular Pope Soap-On-A-Rope.

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