Random thoughts column. I’m not fully responsible for random thoughts.
It is officially spring. Prepare yourself for overhyped weather folks tracking severe weather. But just in case, throw an extra strap down if you live in a mobile home.
I am exceptionally bad at picking college basketball games. If you were trying to break the bank with my picks, you didn’t. I’m losing my family bracket and Landmark bracket in embarrassing fashion. My professional gambling aspirations have been squashed. Back to the grind.
The newly redrawn Missouri Senate districts have been released. District 34’s Tony Luetkemeyer, who is running unopposed, got a good draw. He lost some constituents in the northwest area of the district into Buchanan County because of the growth in the southern part of the district. This strengthens Luetkemeyer. He’s obviously more aligned as a Platte County or Kansas City metro candidate.
I took in a little culture last week. Don’t tell my drinking buddies, but I went to the Mean Girls musical at Kansas City Music Hall. It was good. I’m a 55-year-old rhythm deficient white guy who can’t dance or sing. I’m always impressed by people that can sing and dance at the same time. Seems to defy logic to me.
I would like to draw attention to the idiocy that required that we wear masks. What a joke. You can go about anywhere in Kansas City without a mask, yet the city government that has a hard time picking up trash and plowing streets, is out here protecting your health by making you wear masks in the city owned facility. It is utter lunacy.
My warehouse guys are warming up to Jackson Mahomes this offseason. They’ve shifted their worries about Brittany and Jackson being an unnecessary weight on their favorite quarterback to worrying about his money. They’re worried that their lovestruck quarterback did not sign a prenuptial agreement before marrying his high school sweetheart earlier this month.
I suspect the warehouse guys, who had once complained about Jackson’s Tik Tok dances, are now practicing the same moves between the forklifts on their breaks. They’ll be wearing those short shorts in no time. Probably have their own TikTok account soon. Anyway, they trusted me to ease their concerns. I have bad news for the boys.
My internet search found nothing about a prenuptial agreement for young Patrick. My commonsense search also told me that there is no way he had a prenuptial. They dated in high school, through college and now married. At what point would he have the guts to throw that out there? “Hey, honey, this is true love and all, but I’m going to make a billion dollars in the next 20 years, and I don’t want you to get it if we split up. Can we sign this piece of paper?” Get my point? No way that ever happened. He never would have lived through that.
The boys are just going to have to wish for a happy, healthy marriage that lives up to the “until death do us part” portion of the agreement. Don’t blame me, I’m just the messenger.
I’ve got Foley on board for a Landmark softball team. We’ve budgeted $25 for team uniforms and $100 for beer. Going with Walmart white with iron-ons. Going to be slick. Foley is probably a natural shortstop, but he’s aged into a second baseman. Kind of like George Brett moving to first base. I’ve aged into a first base coach. Kamler is probably our clean-up hitter. Foley’s new best friend, Al Fitzmorris, is going to be on the bump for us. Going to need some volunteers to get this whole lineup together and then we will need another team willing to play two inning games. Anyway, the team is in process. Beer and shirts have been identified and we’re working on the details. If you’re interested, stop by The Landmark office and throw a softball from across the street at the window. If it breaks, you’re on the team.
(Guy Speckman can be reached firstname.lastname@example.org or building a softball powerhouse)