Weekly Whack: Feff's a Yankee Doodle Dandy
Feff's a Yankee Doodle Dandy
July 7, 1996

This past week, on the fourth of July, was a celebration of America's birthday, Independence Day. It was 220 years ago that a bunch of guys got together and decided to make a loose collection of thirteen colonies into one unified nation. So far it has proven to be quite a good decision, and thus every July fourth we definitely have something to celebrate about.

This past Independence Day I celebrated by supporting America's national past time, baseball, by attending a single-A minor league baseball game. Basically, single-A minor league baseball teams consist of forty year-old washed-up veterans whose dreams of making the big leagues are quickly fading, and sixteen year-old rookies taken from their homes on some island in the Caribbean to play baseball for pocket change. Put those two groups together, and throw in a bunch of over-glorified little league coaches and umpires as your managers and umps, and you got hours of entertainment. In the game I went to, I saw a home-run that bounced over the wall, a manager thrown out for arguing that home-runs aren't supposed to bounce over the wall, about seven wild pitches, and three fielders fall down trying to catch a pop fly. All that, and the game went into extra innings.

If the actual game wasn't exciting enough, in-between innings they had promotional contests like the tire roll, bagel run, and, my personal favorite, the dizzy bat race. What a dizzy bat race is, is that they make some kids spin around with their foreheads resting on the end of an upright baseball bat, and then tell them to sprint in a race down the foul line. The whole concept behind the dizzy bat race is that when the actual race part begins, the kids will be so dizzy, that they will look like a bunch of stinking drunks running down the foul line. The kids are falling down, tripping over their own feet, knocking into each other, it's great. It doesn't get much better than the dizzy bat race.

So all in all, I would definitely say that the game was well worth the two dollars and fifty cents admission I paid. And talking about admission, it cost $2.50 to get bleacher seats at the game I went to, and the price of a hot dog there was the exact same. How can one lousy hot dog cost the same as a ticket to a baseball game? It's nuts if you ask me. The $2.50 you spend for a ticket provides you with three solid hours of wholesome family entertainment, the $2.50 you spend for a hot dog at the game provides you with three solid minutes of eating a cold piece of meat on a soggy bun.

Anyhoo, after the game, they had a pretty nice fireworks display. I think there's nothing that puts life in perspective better than fireworks. Pardon me for getting deep, but watching fireworks always had a way of making all my worries and problems seem trivial, and making everything I hold special and dear to me, and everything that is important to me, a little more special, and a little more important. To put it frankly, fireworks kick ass. And also I think fireworks are the main evidence that humans are the only intelligent creatures on the Earth. People say that dolphins and whales are smart, but until they start making and shooting off their own fireworks, they are nothing. We are the only species on this great Earth that can make fireworks, and that is what makes us the kings.

After the game, and after the fireworks, I attended another icon of Americana, the diner. Diners are the greatest, especially if you're someone like me who has the writer's mentality of sitting back and observing life, and people. If you want to see a cross-section of America, there is no better place to go to than a diner. To me, it was a perfect cap to a great Independence Day. The only thing was that when the waitress brought us our water, it was dyed red, white, and blue. I know it is only harmless food dye, but drinking red water really got to me. I don't think I could have handled it if I was the poor sucker who got stuck with the blue water. It's like I know they were just caught up in the whole patriotic spirit of the Fourth of July, but that was just a tad bit corny. Luckily my meal was all the right colors, or me and that waitress would start throwing right there.

Well I think I will bring this Whack to a close, so to conclude for this week, the dizzy bat race should be a televised Olympic event; Flipper couldn't light up a M-80 on his best day; and the only thing blue that I'll ever drink is Raspberry-Blue Gatorade.

Now for this week's special feature, keeping with the whole Independence Day theme, Feff's top ten favorite singers of the Declaration of Independence:

10. John Hart
9. Thomas Stone
8. William Whipple
7. Josiah Bartlett
6. Oliver Wolcott
5. Lyman Hall
4. Button Gwinnett
3. Elbridge Gerry
2. Caesar Rodney
1. Francis Lightfoot Lee