In just a matter of days, the most widely covered Olympics in history will end.  And how does that make you feel?

It signifies the end of many people falling asleep at work, because they stay up until the wee hours of the morning to watch live coverage on their flat screen HDTVs.  I'm talking to you.

The recent passing of two pioneers of their respective arts has torn noticeable holes into the worlds of comedy and journalism. George Carlin paved the way for future comedians and made people laugh about things that they were too uncomfortable to laugh about before. Tim Russert was an inspiration for journalists and people who wanted informative, hard-hitting, honest news.

In a post-9/11 society that evokes inspirational messages with every passing segment, these two provided hard truths for Americans, commenting on the state of our country in very different and intelligent ways. Carlin made audiences uncomfortable with his countercultural stances against religion and political conservatism. Russert made political giants uncomfortable with an interrogative style of interviewing. To me, these are the things Americans needed to hear, especially after a tragedy like 9/11, a controversial 2004 presidential election, and an even more controversial war. We need to laugh at our society for being stuck in traditions that we continue to perform simply because they are traditions, instead of going to their roots and seeing them for what they are, good or bad. We don't need to know what Barack Obama's favorite ice cream flavor is, but instead we need to know his strategy for granting us access to health care if he takes office. Hard truths, like I said.

I have never aspired to be a comedian. When I was a kid I was afraid to make jokes for fear of not getting the desired result. When I was in high school I made my friends laugh by having a sarcastic and deadpan sense of humor. I will always have my own dry, sometimes witty, sometimes self-deprecating, and almost always stupid brand of humor that most people do not and probably should not appreciate. So I've never wanted to be a George Carlin, but I've always respected his ability as a comedy writer. When talking to a good friend the other day - a screenwriter - we talked about how we could appreciate the other's craft, because we both respectively focus on ideas that the other is not able to. Unlike Johnny, I'll never be able to write something and frame it around a live-action, visual perspective. Unlike George Carlin, I'll never be able to write something that aims to make people laugh, while at the same time tearing through social conventions by pointing out their absurdities.

Newsflash: Kansas City is not a tourist town. 

I am not just now finding this out.  This has been the bane of Kansas Citians for years.  I like to compare us to a small dog.  A miniature dachshund with a Labrador complex.  We have the bark of a big city (think: It's been noted on more than one occasion that Arrowhead fans are the loudest in the country. Don't know where that info comes from, but I hear what I hear) with the bite of a small but burgeoning metropolis (think: Chiefs are one of the worst teams in football, and who are the Royals?).   

I never do this, but I'm not quite sure anyone reads this, so I'm going to be uncharacteristic of myself and talk SPORTS.

When I was growing up, I was probably the uncoolest kid in school, besides the classmate who would stick his index finger in his nose and ring finger in his mouth and switch every couple of minutes.  Me, I had a banner of U.S. presidents on my bedroom wall stretching from Washington to Bush senior.  Yeah, I probably had like one friend until I was 24. 

I also had more Royals memorabilia than anyone else in my class that I know of.  When I came home from school, it was not uncommon for my living room carpet to be covered with white and royal blue jerseys worn by some of the greats of the time - George Brett, Frank White, Bo Jackson, Mark Gubicza, Bret Saberhagen, etc.  (To clarify, we were not jersey thieves. My mom altered their uniforms)  I had several autographed baseballs
that my mom put in her display case for me.  A family friend affiliated with the Royals had a jersey made for me when I was 8 or 9.  I even had my favorite Cabbage Patch Kid autographed by George Brett (eBay anyone?).

Welcome, frinks.  

In honor of the recent passing of "my" holiday (it's not even close to being mine, but anyone who knows my name would tell you different), I am coming up with a list.  A list of some of the best things about the color green.  I'm not really big on St. Patrick's Day.  I've enjoyed many a parade, though this year was spent in my all-too depressing blue cubicle and all other things non-related to the wearing of the green.  So, on with the celebration, if you can forgive me for being a day late.