the federal stimulus package and the New Year Baby Contest

I read in the paper that the Easter Bunny arrived at the Cressona Mall over the weekend, making a pit stop at Ollie’s and the Surgical Center ( I guess to get a 'hare' transplant). That story reminded me that now is the time for those planning to participate in the New Year Baby Contest to get off of the sidelines and into the game. This week there should be more action around here than in the entire past Phillies Spring training camp season.

Yes, New Year’s Day is only nine months away, believe it or not.

Some had wondered how the economic downturn may affect the New Year Baby Contest. Of course this is a concern to all of us. Luckily gas prices are down so that those planning to participate in the contest using an automobile as their location of choice should be relieved.

I also understand that buried within the federal stimulus bill will be financial assistance for local merchants to fund prizes to the lucky winner and the runner-ups.

Thank you Nancy Pelosi!
However, just as the Miss America Contest faded away from once being the premiere cultural event of the nation, and the Miss Senior Winter Carnival Princess Contest has been dropped entirely, local New Year Baby Contest officials are fearful that the attention now placed on the dysfunctional unwed mother of fourteen in California, known to all as Octomom, may reduce our beloved new year baby contest to obscurity.

Remember that this woman gave birth to eight bundles of joy several weeks ago and this event has kept the interest of the county captivated by taking our minds off our devastated retirement accounts, corruption in Luzerne County and Michael Jackson's refusal to appear at this year's County Fair.
Our local big-wigs will not only be able to use the federal stimulus money to bail out the floundering Pierogie Bowl and purchase desperately needed all-weather bleenie friers, but they will be able to give out some of the newly printed money as attractive monetary awards to anyone who gives birth to nine babies on New Year’s Day.

Right now the local middle schools across the county are preparing contestants for their big day. Spelling classes are teaching the word, “Nonuplets” which is defined as “nine babies born at once.” Runner-ups having multiple births on New Year’s Day will also receive some cash prizes, so that anyone giving birth to septuplets or sextuplets should not feel slighted or left out.

The officials also want boost our children's self-esteem so everyone who attempts to conceive a child between March 25 and May 1 will recieve a "participant" ribbon thanks to this stimulus money. The sewing machines will be soon turned on in many closed garment factories, giving work to hundreds of women who will be producing these coveted participant ribbons.
Our leading County economists believe that this injection of cash prizes will stimulate the local economy and the results will be seen in an upturn in patronage at local video Arcades, frequented by most of the New Year Baby Contest participants. It could also spur the growth of public housing and, of course, an increase in diaper services.

The contest is open to all residents of the county regardless of age (not just young teens) so pick up your entry form at any Middle School administration office right away.

Time is a-wasting.

March musings

With parades in both Pottsville and Girardville I am Celticly exhausted.
You have to admit it though; Girardville’s parade, although great, was not the same without Clinton marching.
Yes, I understand that both Hillary and Bill had busy calendar engagements. Hillary’s was with some foreign dignitary and Bill’s was with Miss March and Miss April, but why no Chelsea or Roger? The closest we got to a Clinton was listening to the rollicking bag pipe rendition of George Clinton’s “Nubian Nut” performed by the soulful Heckscherville Hiberianators.

Wanting to look fresh for the Girardville Parade, I decided to take my kilts (all soiled after the ten minute Pottsville parade and the ten hour Humane fire house extravaganza) to the cleaners in Schuylkill Haven.

Mammy stayed home and tried her best to recondition our plastic green hats.

Did you ever try getting dents out of plastic green hats? It is very, very difficult and usually you end up with noticeable, white creases, but Mammy has the magic touch to bring old plastic hats back to life.
I had trouble getting into Haven as it was St. Joseph’s Day, when the town celebrates the return of the geese to Stoyer’s Dam. Apparently the so-called “Miracle of the Geese” is the second biggest event in the town, only surpassed by the raucous Burro Day in late September, when the burros finally chase the birds away.
As the large birds wing their way back to their summer home in “the little borough that could,” the town takes on a fiesta flair and visitors from all over the county, from all walks of life, gather together to witness this marvelous aviary wonder.

Who can forget the romantic Pennsylvania Dutch song, “Wenn die Gänse zum Schuylkill Hafen zurückgehen?” It was #1 on WPPA’s Hit Parade back in the 1950s for eight consecutive weeks.
It was the first 45 rpm that I purchased; now looking over my stock portfolio it was the best investment I ever made.
Yes, the return of our fine feathery friends has captured the imagination of hundreds; giving us all goose bumps. When I am asked to give an analogy for the sheer excitement of watching the birds dive bomb into town, I can only compare it the tingling feeling that I get sitting through the last two rounds of the Spelling Bee.

Spell that t-i-n-g-l-i-n-g. tingling.

After dropping off my kilts at the cleaners I planned to immediately head down to Stoyer’s Dam but two things stopped me. I no longer had my protective green plastic hat which would shield me from the large goose droppings. Secondly, Mammy called and said that she could not salvage the plastic green hats despite the tedious hours she spent on the task.
We would have to properly dispose of the plastic green hats. I told her that I would hurry home and help her determine if the dented hats were #1 PET plastic or #2 HDPE plastic so that the hats could be properly picked up on Recycling Day.
So I never did get to see the geese arrive back in Schuylkill Haven, but for the life of me I could not get that song out of my head. All during the Girardville Parade, while I stood hatless in my clean, crisp highlander kilts, I was haunted by the melody of the birds drowning out the tedious marching bands.

“Wenn die Schwalben zu Schuylkill Hafen zurückkommen
That' s der Tag, den Sie versprachen, zu mir zurückzukommen,
als Sie flüsterten, ‘Abschied’, zu Schuylkill Hafen
Twas der Tag, den die Schwalbe heraus zum Meer flog…”

St. Patrick's Day

Saint Patrick’s Day is approaching and I will celebrate along with everyone else. I have a fondness for the Irish. The current Mrs. Trout is half-Irish for starters and we start each morning with a bowl of magically delicious Lucky Charms. I then shower with Irish Spring soap while listening to my favorite Irish musicians. Jim Morrison for instance. I have downloaded so much U2, the O’Jays, and Sinead O’Connor that I can hardly lift my MP3 anymore and

my cell phone rings to the harmonious melody of bagpipes. I even encouraged Mammy to audition for the local production of “Schuylkill Riverdance” which in now playing at The Santander (formerly Sovereign) Majestic Theatre. Sadly, she was not built for clog dancing and did not make the cut. She will stick to cooking scrapple which we have every morning with our Lucky Charms.
Then there are the entertainers such as Edgar Bergen and his sidekick, Charlie McCarthy, just to name but a few. I love them all.
I also admire the Irish contributions to our political process. For instance Mayor McCheese. I am not talking about former Scranton Mayor Jim McNulty, who is great on WYOU Sunday mornings. I am talking about the chief executive of McDonaldland. Does anyone know what happened to him? He cleaned up the streets of McDonaldland during his tenure and got rid of the Hamburglar. Maybe he could clean up Shenandoah.

I am also a fan of St. Patrick, the man and the legend, and know quite a bit about him. Let me share the information with you.
Last summer, I too had trouble with snakes in my backyard. Apparently a snake found its way down Sharp Mountain and onto my property. The snake became rather pesky and my old lady stepped on it while hanging the wash one sunny Monday afternoon. She immediately dropped her clothespins and notified the Pottsville police. With the help of their sketch artist, the snake was identified as a garter snake. Although it was not the Anaconda we feared, Mammy wanted the snakes out of our yard.
“What does my snake problem have to do with St. Patrick?” you may ask. Well, I had heard that St. Patrick was famous for driving the snakes out of Ireland and I thought to myself “if he could drive the snakes out of an island, then I could drive them out of my yard.”
“How did he get them in his car?” “Where did he drive them to?” “How would I ever get them into my SUV?” “Where would I go with them?” These were just a few of the questions that I had to answer.
I went to the Pottsville Library and checked out every book on St. Patrick and began reading. I found out that Pat was born in Britain, the son of a Roman official. His birth name was Maewyn Succat. I am glad that he changed his name, and I am sure the thousands of men named Patrick are grateful too. At the age of sixteen, Irish pirates kidnapped him. There were no “amber alerts” or photographs on milk cartons in the Fifth century. Life was cheap back then. He was kept as a slave for 6 years before fleeing and becoming a cleric in France. Later he returned to Ireland and converted the place to Christianity, driving everywhere to preach for thirty years. He did drive and is today known as the patron saint of Engineers. However his vehicle of choice was a chariot and not a locomotive, which had not been invented yet. His death occurred on March 17th, 493. Yes March 17th is the anniversary of his death. I doubt that many realize this as Patrick is largely overlooked on the anniversary of his death, pushed aside by the hoopla involving leprechauns and green beer.
As for the snakes, I learned that it was in the Mountain Croagh Patrick supposedly rang his bell and drove those serpents off the island and into the sea. Ireland today has no venomous snakes whatsoever. So maybe it is true, there is a humane way to get rid of them.

I later tried several different bells in my yard without any success. Despite my ringing for hours, the garter snake remained and my yard became overrun with neighborhood children looking for the Mr. Softee ice cream truck. Now I was confronted with two types of unwanted pests.