(A VISIT FROM ST. VINCENT)

by Clement Clarke Moore,

‘Twas week three in the season, and all down the road

Not a creature was stirring, not even a toad;

The pack got all hung up with no QB to play

to the delight of the Seahawks, who made Big Red’s day.

The Norsemen were nestled all snug in their beds

while the T-Vults came playing, and romped on their heads;

And mamma with the kids, and I with my student,

Could not sit for football, ’cause it wouldn’t be prudent,

When out on the TV there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bass lesson to see what was the matter.

Away to the family room I flew like a flash,

And there on the replay, I saw Steve Young get smashed.

The Moon had arisin, but now backs up KC

They say Grbak’s better, but how can that be?

When, what with my wondering eyes do I glimmer,

But the Cheez beat the Hawgs, a former toilet bowl winner?

With two little snakes, oh so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment that Blade would get nicked.

More rapid than roadrunners his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, then put out the flame;

“Now, ASCENCERS! now, NORSEMEN! now, FLAME and the BLADE!

On, HAWGS! on PACK! on, TOADS and, well, actually, that’s it.

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

YOU LOST!

– (big edit here) –

“BETTER LUCK TO YOU ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT.”

From your commissioner Brian, who’s feeling quite sprite.

It was another Tuesday, just like so many other Tuesdays that followed Mondays so bleak you wish you could just make it go away, but you can’t, ’cause you gotta’ make a living to put biscuits on the table. It was going to be one of those days, but I had a feeling that something was going to happen. Something always does in this seedy little town, then they come see me to pick up the pieces, but you can’t always put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

Week 12 Blurb

I got outta bed, dressed, shaved, slapped on some aqua velva, then gargled with it. I was ready for my day.

When I got outside the Joe Diamond Detective Agency, everything looked fine. By the time I ascended the stairs to my office, I knew something was wrong – the flame in my furnace musta gone out. It was then that I noticed my secretary wasn’t here. If she was, the place would be warm and the smell of java would be coming from my office.

Dames. They like to play little games, but they don’t always win.

Shirley had been late plenty of times. Man troubles she says, and today’s excuse was no different. I didn’t buy it. Shirley was the trouble. She’d do OK for a while, then it would be like some big wave was crashing down on her life, crushing her like a bug. I tried to let her go so often, but just couldn’t bear to let her go. She spruced the place up too much.

Dames.

“Just get me some coffee and start that fire.”

Before I knew it, I had coffee, a warm office, and a paper. Maybe I’ll keep her after all. I went to get some milk for the coffee and noticed that the refrigerator had stopped running. That was gonna cost me, and payin’ the rent was hard enough.

It explained the rotting cheese smell that I thought was my socks, but it didn’t explain the sudden unannounced presence of the two hoodlums pointing their guns at me. Shirley was gone for sure this time.

One they called Red, though I never knew why. Maybe he had hair in a former life. The other one with the skinny legs was Sven. They had come to warn me that they were gunnin’ for me, but I wasn’t concerned. One – why announce it if their intentions were real? and Two – I could see that they had no bullets.

As soon as I looked up and said “Shirley,” they turned around and I finished ’em off. It was like shooting fish in a barrel.

Yeah, somethin’ happened that day, but all in all, it was just another Tuesday at the Joe Diamond Detective Agency.

Commissioner
Joe Diamond

So, I am still at home, now with bronchitis. Between the medication and the high temperatures and the severe coughing, it’s hard to concentrate or even to get out of bed. If I happen to catch the Tennessee game this Sunday, I’ll probably think that it’s a Smurfs rerun. There’s nothing like writing a blurb on drugs (Here’s your blurb… now here’s your blurb on drugs. Any Questions?).

As my mind wanders in and out of reality, I can’t help but think about the holidays… and it terrifies me! Not that the holidays are bad, but the reason I have bronchitis right now is because I’m very allergic to dust and fragrances among many other things (I can supply a complete list if you want it), and my house got a bit too dusty.

While you guys think of setting up trees for Christmas, I’m thinking of year old dusty boxes. While you are anticipating Christmas Eve services, I’m thinking about biological warfare. Think about it… when are men and women most likely to wear (cheap) perfume? During the holidays!

This stinks in a way (pun intended), because I’m also an avid hugger. But I can’t hug anyone wearing cheap perfume because it will rub off on me, and I’ll die. There are certain people, known to me, who do not get hugs. There are other “special” people that I give a 10-foot buffer zone to, when they are standing still.

Bottom line – If you want a hug from me, or if you want me to be anywhere in your personal space, either don’t wear perfume/cologne or wear the really good stuff, which I am not allergic to (Carrie, Amy, you may be able to use this information to your advantage!). If you want to see how clean your house is, invite me over for food (which I’m not allergic to, by the way). If I’m not clutching my throat and reaching for an inhaler, you’re probably doing a great job.

Next week, maybe I’ll let you in on the secret about how I was able to lose 10 pounds in a week, and gain some killer abs.

‘Til then,
Co-missioner Brian

So, I’ve been home sick for the last few days, so I decided to watch a couple of classic films involving an actor who would eventually become a politician elected to a high office. In one of the movies, he plays a military man who gets involved with a cuddly creature. In the other movie, he plays an ex- fighter.

Of course, I’m talking about Jessie “The Body” Ventura, who will soon be the Governor of Minnesota. The two movies I watched, back-to-back, were Predator and The Running Man, both also starring his friend and future Republican (Kennedy) President Arnold Schwartzenegger, who, as we know from Demolition Man, became so popular that they changed the rules so that he could be elected. Schwartzenegger may have some stiff competition if he’s planning to run in 2002 because Hulk Hogan says he wants to run for President as well.

Wouldn’t it be great if they became President and Vice President (I’m assuming that Arnie would win the Presidency)? Their cabinet would be staffed with Bruce Willis, Sylvester Stallone, Demi Moore, and a host of WWF wrestlers. Each Planet Hollywood would have its own ambassador. Fights in the Senate and in the House would be determined in the ring, and no country would mess with us because they have seen what our President has done in action. He’d probably go to that country himself and blow the whole place up, using one of those grenade lanunching machine guns that never seem to run out of bullets.

But I digress…

Like Rocky (The Press Secretary, “Yo. You talkin’ to me?”), you can never count the Bottom Feeders out. They were down going into Monday night (Nitro?), but came back with a vengance against the Big Red (Communist) menace to become the top scorer of the week. The Scorpions must have felt like the scorpion in the movie Predator, who first got stabbed, then stomped on and left for dead so the alien Toads could play with it later. Like Bruce Willis (Advisor/Speech Writer, “Yippie Ki Yea, et cetera and so forth”), Jumanji is no stranger to natural disasters like (a) (T)Sunami. I’m sure there will be a sequel. Flame over Cheez = Flambeé. Mmm Mmm Good! Like Arnie in the Running Man (President, “I’ll be back… for a third term”), the T-Vults were falsely accused (of being a medeocre doormat kind of team). And although the Ascenders had superior weapons, they lacked cunning (and a starting Quarterback) and were picked off, one by one, until only the T-Vults remained. Like Demi Moore (Foreign Ambassador, “You two will make peace or I’ll cry at you”) Naja Naja are great manipulators from another planet (Venus, I think). We can never understand them, we just must obey them. At least they let the Norsemen play both their quarterbacks.

These Sirens must be stopped! Next week’s team, lash yourself to the mast now!

Co-Missioner
Brian

So, I was driving near Sun Devil Stadium after a particularly harrowing meeting when the sky suddenly opened up and a deluge the likes I had never seen hit the desert. Within moments, it was flooding everywhere. Normally dry riverbeds were gushing with water. People were running about screaming, “What is that stuff, it makes my face wet,” or “The sky is falling!, The sky is falling!” If the Cardinals were playing at home, I’m sure they would have needed water wings.

Phoenix is full of wimps.

Fortunately, I was prepared for this precipitous occasion, and was able to dodge the cars skidding/floating off the highway on my way to the airport (I use both definitions of precipitous: My meeting was indeed seemingly insurmountable and unyielding, like that of a huge rock cliff, and the day did tend towards wetness.).

This epic flood was not unlike my point total this week against the Toads, who, though being aquatic, still had never seen so much water at one time and was heard shouting “No Mas!, No Mas.” The usually mighty Naja Naja met the seemingly insurmountable Big Red, who would not yield to these women (Pat, you chauvinist pig!). The Ascenders ascended to the zenith of the precipice, leaving the Scorpions in the desert. Sunami? What Sunami? There are no earthquakes in the desert, hence, no Tsunamis to quench the Flame, who stood high above the flood waters, and being prepared, stood out of the rain. Jumanji went down the drain. The Cheez Heads had (yellow, GB trademarked) water wings. Though both thoroughly familiar with water, the Bottom Feeders, unable to fight years of evolutionary conditioning*, stayed on the bottom while the Norsemen sailed across the surface, almost unaware of the flounder below.

* If one belives in that hooey. They really couldn’t help it because God made them that way.

Co-Missioner
Brian

Quoth the T-Vults
by Brian Knitter

Once upon a day so dreary,
As I did my MOFL query,
Looking at each player’s name,
In hopes that I might beat the Flame.
Pulled each stat out of the news,
My spreadsheet said I did not lose.
I danced with mirth, I danced with joy,
Quoth the T-Vult, Oh boy, Oh boy!

My day was better than before,
Because I had the better score,
But then I got a Flame reply
That made me sad, and start to cry
“You did not win” I heard him say,
“You missed the Galloway runback play.”
It resulted in a defensive score,
Quoth the T-Vult, nevermore

This cannot be, I checked my stats,
But he was right, now I was last.
My team was such a sorry lot,
Either that, or there’s a plot!
How can the two-time winning champs,
Now have a team made up of tramps!?
Our team must get up off the floor
Quoth the T-Vult, nevermore!

I had lost, but I’ll be back.
My team will now clean up its act.
We will work ’til we’re a load,
Then next week, we’ll kill a Toad!
Later on, Flame will be seen,
Revenge is sweet in week 13!
Like a Phoenix out of the ashes
Flying high above the shore
Quoth the T-Vult, nevermore
Quoth the T-Vult, nevermore!!!

In other news, the Bottom Feeders were rapping, rapping, not so gently on Cheez Head’s chamber door. Big Red bricked up The Ascenders in the wine cellar. The Scorpions were cut in two by a Norse pendulum. Jumanji’s heart was still beating, but it was under the floorboards beneath the refrigerator. Sunami was as lost as the beloved Lenore. Quoth the T-Vult, nevermore!

I don’t often do this, but all this talk of death really got me thinking, so I thought I’d write a “blurb.”

In Medieval times, the subject of death was often on the people’s minds.  If you were an adult in those days, then death was nearer to you than your birth.  Because of this, the church in those days used a Latin phrase, Memento Mori – A Reminder of Death*, to remind the people that life was temporary – and to finish strong.  And that is my encouragement to you today.  As you ponder all the death around you – and possibly your own death – look to the cross and know that you have ultimate victory in Christ.

Finish Strong.

In the midst of all this “death talk” we had last night at rehearsal, Ray made an offhanded comment that was so profound I wrote it down:

Things you don’t want to do, but you do (anyway) – it changes you.

–         Ray Nario

Folks, life is temporary.  We’ll all be worm food before you know it.  And there are probably a lot of things we don’t want to do that we should do.  Some of these things are significant, and potentially life-changing to you, or to others (I have a list myself!).  Accomplish some of those things today.  Set a goal before you and go for it:  Seek and save the lost, dig into a Bible study, tell all the significant people in your life that you love them, spend more time with your family – whatever it is, go for it.  Life’s short.

– Brian

* Capuchin Monks would actually pile bones of the dead in ornate fashion, and dress up the bones of deceased monks, priests and bishops in their former garbs, then put signs on their chests saying things like “I was once like you,” or “You will soon be like me.”  These public displays, often found in crypts (church basements) and catacombs, were to remind the people of their own mortality.  Often, fear of death kept people in the church! – and that was the point of Memento Mori – the church wanted to remind the people of the ever-present specter of death, and their immediate need for Jesus.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Memento_mori

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capuchin_catacombs_of_Palermo