Kids Football Picks results: 8YO goes 3-1

Not a bad week for 8YO, AKA Laughing Witch, as she went 3-1 with her football picks.

She got a scare as Georgia Tech struggled on offense, then allowed a pretty bad Maryland team using a backup quarterback to make it close before finally winning 21-16 to remain unbeaten.

The Georgia Bulldogs, with an assist from The Towel, pulled what some are considering a mild upset in beating Tennessee at Neyland Stadium 20-12.  Then again, when you're running game resembles a prop in an OK-Go video, as Tennessee's does (see below), you aren't going to win very many football games in the SEC.  Well, unless you are playing Kentucky or one of the Mississippi schools.

The towel, you ask?  I'm surprised no one else seems to be talking about this, but Georgia's coaches were hiding their play calling from the eyes of ESPN's cameras by holding a white towel in front of whichever coach was sending in plays at the time. I sure hope it wasn't a used towel.  The towel ostensibly will keep future Bulldogs opponents from hiring Heather Whitestone-McCallum or some other lip reading expert to steal the team's signals by reviewing video of prior games.  If I were Georgia-Pacific, I'd be peeved.  The Dawgs could be showing state pride by using a roll of GP paper towels.  It's a ready made commercial - Sparkle, they're cheap, but strong enough to protect the secrets of your Bulldogs, at least the on-field secrets. Made just down the road from me in Rincon, too!

8YO correctly picked both her NFL games, as the Bengals beat the Los Angeles Jaguars in Jacksonville 23-20 with help from a botched Jaguars snap that prompted a mighty groan from the Jaguars fan in attendance.  The Packers then remained unbeaten with a 25-14 whipping of the Falcons at the Georgia Dome as the Falcons pulled the "I'm going to run out to a lead, then blow it" card again.

As promised, OK-Go.

And now, the News From the Ham and Beyond

First, the news from the Ham, which if you don't know, is Effingham County, Georgia, home of wide open spaces, great public schools, and meth (shaken, not stirred).

The renovation at the Rincon Wal-Mart (motto: "Yes, ma'am, we do carry bras in your size, and we'd appreciate you buying one immediately!) is ongoing. The pharmacy is still under construction, so it is temporarily housed at the former location of the checkout counters on the side of the store nearest to health and beauty. Those are the same checkouts that were never manned, or womanned, even though your checkout line snaked all the way back to the discount bikinis.

I am very upset at the Rincon Wal-Mart because they apparently no longer carry Post Raisin Bran, only the more sugary and salty Kellogg's and Sam's Choice versions. What does a guy have to do to get his recommended daily amount of fiber in a tasty way? I suppose I will just have to pay extra and get my Post RB down the road at Kroger. Either that or revert to the days when I would combine a box of All-Bran with a box of Cocoa Puffs or Peanut Butter Crunch.

In news from Savannah, the Savannah Morning News reports that Metro Police Chief Willie Lovett has instituted a ban on visible tattoos on police officers. Good thing Herve Villechaize has passed on. If you think this is an unusual policy, you would be wrong. The Georgia State Patrol will not hire you if you have any tattoos visible below the cuff of a short-sleeved shirt. The Garden City Police Department has been working on a tattoo policy, but officers there have been too busy pulling over people for driving 45.0001 in a 45 mile-per-hour zone, so as soon as they finish giving you a speeding ticket, they will get around to body ink.

In Sports, yesterday's Savannah Sand Gnats game in haiku:

Gnats Lose to Greenville
The Family Had Fun, but
Pitching Was Stinky

The positive news from Gnatsville; despite the loud guy on the public address speakers who one day will pass out while attempting to hold the word 'Savannah' for 30 seconds during pre-game introductions, attendance is up this season. Even though the Gnats are still last in the South Atlantic League in attendance, the average crowd of 1,812 through the first 48 home games is up over the same time period last season. Kudos to new team president John Katz for an outstanding year, and props to the team for giving Savannah a few extra home games by making the playoffs for the first time in 14 years.

With apologies to the Savannah Tobaccostapo, the smoke of the day is the Romeo Y Julieta Habana Reserve, an outstanding medium-to-bold cigar. It's wrapper and binder are grown in Nicaragua while the filler is grown in Nicaragua and Honduras. Unlike some, I don't rate cigars on a particular flavor - no "hints of dark chocolate and coffee" or "aroma of active paper mill." I just pick a cigar that I enjoy and recommend it. Speaking of the Savannah Tobaccostapo, there will be more to say about them down the road, but Mayor Johnson, while I love you as much as one man can platonically love another man, you are dead wrong on the smoking ban idea. We cigar and pipe aficionados are considering a smoke-in at your next town hall meeting because, unlike the Tobaccostapo, we believe in the Constitution.

The jazz record of the day is actually a double album, one that got virtually no recognition for being great in its time. "The Astaire Story" was recorded in December 1952 when Fred Astaire was 53 years old, still making good movies but long after his glory years with Ginger Rogers. Jazz impresario (are there college classes you can take on becoming an impresario?) Norman Granz conceived the album, which mostly featured songs made famous by Mr. Astaire in his films. Rather than the lush arrangements of "The Gay Divorcee" or "Top Hat", this album is pure jazz with the music played by an all-star sextet led by legendary pianist Oscar Peterson. Though it was not a huge seller after it's original release, Mr. Peterson spoke lovingly of this album - he and the other musicians all received gold bracelets from Mr. Astaire with the inscription "With thanks, Fred A", a bracelet Mr. Peterson would wear for the rest of his life. A personal highlight is an updated arrangement of one of Mr. Astaire's few hits as a songwriter, "I'm Building Up To An Awful Letdown", with lyric by Johnny Mercer. If local musicologist Roger Moss is, as he has suggested, recording an album of Mercer songs, I hope that song is included simply to hear Moss's enormous baritone utter the opening line "I'm like Humpty Dumpty...."

That's the news from the Ham, Savannah, and the half-point in between. Tomorrow, how the Ham desperately needs a mathematician. No, not a methamatician. Also tomorrow, how polls flat out lie, especially polls that claim you are just fine and dandy with higher property taxes. Speaking of lies, tomorrow is Primary Election Day in Georgia, otherwise known as Bend Over, This Won't Hurt a Bit Day, Part One.

Wal-Mart = Drugs, but not so much anymore in Rincon

Behind crystal meth, crack cocaine and Pringles, the fourth-most addictive thing in the world is Wal-Mart. No, it wasn't discussed at our first grader's school during the recent Red-Ribbon week, where at the end of the week the kids went to a "rock concert" to, in my little girl's eloquent words, "celebrate Halloween and drugs." But Sam Walton's creation is one of the most insidiously addictive substances in America, at least until recently. This year may be the year I finally break my Wal-Mart addiction because our neighborhood Wally World in Rincon, GA has apparently lost its best feature; Miss Doris.

Wal-Mart's tentacles have had me in their firm grasp all my adult life, even before the days of eight gazillion square foot "Supercenters." One reason I needed to get my regular "low prices" hit after my family and I moved to Effingham County was the lovely lady who usually greeted us at the Rincon store. Miss Doris appeared to be in her 80's and always had a smile, a lollipop and smiley-face stickers for my little girl. As a special treat for my daughter, Doris also usually sang a few lines of "K-K-K-Katy", a song written in 1918 that to Doris's amazement I knew (she didn't realize that I am about 50 years older than I appear).

Since The Wiggles never recorded "K-K-K-Katy", my little girl wasn't too enamored with the song, but what she couldn't wait to hear every trip to Wal-Mart was Miss Doris playing the harmonica. If you didn't happen to catch her playing it when you came in the door, you could bet that while you pushed your shopping cart with one wheel getting stuck every 13 seconds you would hear Miss Doris's tones echoing past the Oxy Clean and the baby food, all the way back to the automotive department. Sometimes it would be church hymns, which gives you pause when you are shopping in certain parts of the health and beauty section and find yourself humming "There's Power In The Blood" along with Miss Doris's harp.

Holidays, however, are when Miss Doris's music shone the most. Not only would you hear "America The Beautiful" on Independence Day or "Silent Night" around Christmas, Doris would outfit herself in enough seasonal-colored rhinestones to make Porter Waggoner roll over in his grave. The purgatory that Wal-Mart often becomes, watching your ice cream melt while waiting longer to check out than it took you to shop because enough registers aren't open, was a little more palatable because you couldn't help but smile at Miss Doris and marvel at how much she enjoyed saying "Hello" to everyone and playing her music.

Then one day, a few months back, I noticed that it had been a while since we were greeted with harmonica music, bedazzled vests, and someone freely handing out stickers and singing special songs to my kid. Miss Doris didn't seem to be coming to work any more. My child asked me why the other greeters weren't as nice as Miss Doris, and the only answer I had was that Miss Doris was a special person. I couldn't tell my girl that the other greeters thought of what they did only as a job, that human interaction apparently was too difficult a concept for them to understand. After all, they only get paid to make sure everyone has a cart and to pretend to make sure no one is stealing anything when they leave. I couldn't tell my daughter that because she would have repeated it word for word to the new greeters. Yes, she is one of those types.

I feel horrible because I haven't mustered the courage to ask someone at Wal-Mart what happened to Miss Doris, whether she passed on or simply retired. If she has gone on to be a greeter at a more important place and the Rincon Wal-Mart hasn't paid homage to her with a picture at the front of the store or something, then Wal-Mart should be ashamed of itself. My addiction will require me to visit Wal-Mart frequently, especially with The Holidays arriving. But we miss the music and the stickers, and if there is a way for me and my family to say "thanks" to Miss Doris, wherever she is, I hope that will be my surprise Christmas gift this year.