I was flabbergasted to learn in the Indy that 12 concussions have been incurred in the first eight weeks of this school year. This equals the entire number of last year’s concussions. For the sake of accurate reporting, I’d like to add my concussion. That makes it 13 or a baker’s dozen. Or is it a butcher’s dozen? Or is it a candlestick maker’s dozen? I’m still woozy from all the political knockabouts I took during this year’s city council election. Rub-a-bump-bump, three folks get elected and four sail out to sea. My head hurts. Got aspirin? Got another hat for my bump?
I’m writing this column on Sunday, Nov. 2, two days before Election Day. I’m trying to get my thoughts straight to predict the winners and losers before the results get tallied. Sure I could write the story after, like any other Wednesday morning concussed quarterback pundit, but I’m doing it Sunday because it’s the only day so far that there hasn’t been a forum and this column’s deadline is Tuesday at 5 p.m. It’s hard to predict the race when your head hurts as much as mine. There have been a lot of verbal punches thrown. Candidates punch each other. The electorate counterpunches the candidates. Associations and political groups throw in a bunch of haymakers. My ears are ringing. I think the fight is finally over though. I’ve heard a seven count and get up on shaky legs to wobble over to my typewriter to record my predictions. What’s that readers? Oh, my bad, I mean laptop, not typewriter. My memory is in and out a bit. But I predict Dewey wins over Truman. Wow, does my head hurt. Kiss my boo-boo. What’s that readers? You’d rather wash your mouth out with soap. Good thinking. Soap first. Kiss second.
Wow, I’m worried about myself. I have a headache. I can’t sleep. I’m confused. I get distracted. I can’t concentrate. That’s me before the rhetoric punches started. Now it’s different. I have a headache. I can’t sleep. I’m confused. I get distracted. I can’t concentrate, for both of us now. There’s the nice Mark and the mean Mark. I’m fighting with my selves for column control. Mean Mark wants to taunt the losers in front of the winners. Nice Mark doesn’t want to pick winners and losers. Nice Mark wants to end the column in a nice way. Suppose everybody loses? It’s the flip side of the same coin, where heads is when progressive schools don’t keep score at sporting events and everybody is declared a winner. In this case, tails is where all the candidates lose a city council seat, but go on to bigger and better things. Here are nice Mark’s predictions.
Jon Madison goes on to a successful career as a resume writer and lecturer.
Michele Hall becomes a meteorologist and predicts global cooling.
Toni Iseman writes her memoirs entitled, “The Iseman Cometh”
Rob Zur Schmiede becomes chief tide pool docent and cures sea star wasting disease.
Eli Grossman streaks down Forest. The other woman (not Ann Christoph) boos.
Paul Merritt changes his name again to Paul DeMeritt and gets elected in France.
Kelly Boyd buys back the Marine Room Tavern and doesn’t change a thing.
Rub-a-bump-bump. Life goes on. My head is feeling better now. I wish the very best to all the candidates, winners and losers, alike. It was a hard fought fight and Lagunans appreciate your caring enough to mix it up. Laguna is better for your participation. Thank you.
Mark is a transplant to Laguna from Chicago. He occasionally writes the guest column “Pet Peeves.” His recently deceased Border Collie, Pokey, is his muse and ghostwriter.