March Ridiculousness

Thanks to some ridiculous upsets this weekend I no longer have to worry about my NCAA brackets. I can now fully devote myself to familial and local affairs.

One would think that a week away from following the papers would leave lots of news to catch up on, but alas, local buzz is tough to come by. I think the biggest story last week was the inebriated leprechaun that took a rather unfortunate spill into the Sandy Hook bay on St. Paddy's Day while trying to get off the ferry in Highlands. Fortunately, the gentleman was ok. Just think if he had to walk stumble down the pier in Atlantic Highlands! (Cough, cough, it's not easy.)

The Bayshore Courier published a press release article (second item) on Keyport Mayor John Merla and how "he's looking forward to defending the allegations brought against him by the FBI." The Courier goes on to paint Merla as a heavyweight boxer, never backing down from a tough fight even though the odds may be stacked against him. The Courier might as well have had a picture of Merla running up the steps of city hall with his fists pumped into the air to accompany the article.

Then, in the Courier Editorial section, Somdatta Sengupta comes to the defense of former Hazlet Mayor Paul Coughlin, writing:

I really like the way in which the town's GOP members have pulled together in an hour of crisis and have done what is best for the town and its taxpayers. Even Coughlin. Though he was not required by law to step down, he did.

As my daughter's Wiggles would say, whoop-dee-doo. If I'm going to listen to spin doctors, I'd much rather listen to Pocket Full of Kryptonite. I never knew the Courier was a soapbox for the Keyport/Hazlet GOP.

But hand's down, the most disapointing feature about this week's Courier was the absence of the Mystery Shopper! What's up with that? I don't exactly pay the $.40 for the stellar reporting, I just like looking at the picture of the poor sucker who gets photographed walking out of FoodTown with a pint of Ben & Jerry's, a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and assorted deli meats. And I secretly hope one day I am that man. Lord knows I try.

Oh, and by the way, speaking of the Lord, Jesus is the Messiah Whether One Believes or Not. End of story. Don't talk to me about your "Force" and Jedi voodoo. Or your kooky alien invaders Mr. Tom Cruise.

So I pretty much threw my Magic 8-ball against a wall, kicked it a few times and then smashed it with a hammer. After so reliably predicting some immediate consequences of last month's bribery scandal it COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY FAILED ME in my attempt to repeat as the winner of my March Madness office pool (as you already know - I said UCONN, it said "outlook positive").

So I'm left with few options for predicting future events. The Town Psychic was run out of town to make room for a vintage clothing store (forget the future, let's recycle old stuff that was cool old stuff five years ago), Councilman Jack Archibald only predicts the future around the holidays when he gives us sneak peaks into Santa's bag and I had to burn my Farmer's Almanac for heat this winter. So I guess I'm left with a good ol' gut feeling. That same gastrointestinal pain that tells me to raise on fourth street when I'm holding four diamonds attempting to bluff the table and then seeing the next bet after being re-raised. Sure, my gut's failed me before - but not as much as it's come through for me. (I held 'em and got the flush on fifth street). So my gut tells me:

1. After some discussion during the public comment portion of Wednesday's Council meeting Atlantic Highlands will pass three pay-to-play ordinances.
2. The municipal budget will be introduced at Wednesday's meeting and the phrase "bull-sh%#" will uttered at least a dozen times. This may be qualified with a rather explicit adjective.
3. I want turkey and swiss for lunch
4. The completion of the Bayshore Bike Trail will not be mentioned at all.
5. Water and sewer rates will go up.
6. It will snow one more time before spring really arrives.