Madtown fireworks madness, Obamacare follies, royal nonsense, and Packer season predix

Ah, the summer doldrums. Growing up in Manitowoc in the ’70s, it was around this time each year that boredom began to creep in like Lake Michigan fog while the dread of an approaching new school year — thickened by noxious and egregiously premature “back to school” ads — simultaneously intruded on our carefree Huck Finn afternoons like the stench of beached alewives.

Our world was circumscribed by power-mad swimming pool martinets and fascistic 9:30 p.m. bedtimes, but we still had plenty of opportunity to run wild. Now I sit in a climate-controlled office with a view of the Beltline, and my mind, at least for a day, rebels against the structure imposed by good sense and common decency. Isn’t summer supposed to provide a welcome respite from those unwholesome byproducts of society and the rule of law?

I’m going to let my inner child run free, then, unshackled from the requirement to have a coherent blog theme or anything resembling a point. Here are my midsummer thoughts, such as they are:

Fireworks over fireworks: Kudos to the Madison Mallards for filling the yawning void left by the fireworks’ moving nearly 15 minutes away. As you probably heard, Rhythm & Booms, the city’s official dog-scaring program (our Rottie mix is terrified by the Fourth of July; maybe Michele Bachmann should investigate him) is moving from Warner Park to a bunch of barges on Lake Monona. It’s an ostensible cost-saving move that combines traditional patriotic fervor and civic togetherness with a barrage of bright lights that will presumably make it easier to see the alcohol-soaked bodies of non-swimmers who may feel inclined to challenge Dane County’s own Bermuda Triangle on one of the most booze-fueled nights of the year. Lake Monona plus throngs of drunken revelers emboldened by loud noises minus any reason to get up early the next morning. Now there’s a formula for success. What could possibly go wrong?

The Mallards are to be commended, though, for seeing a business opportunity and seizing it. Sounds like a fun substitute for (or supplement to) the official proceedings, if you are so inclined. Which I’m not. July 4 is now a dog day evening for me.

Obamacare repeal watch: As President Obama took time to tout the successes of his signature health care reform measure on Thursday, House Republicans were — once again — voting to upend the law. It marked the 38th — no, seriously — time these esteemed congresspersons have attempted to repeal or scale back the ACA.

Is this the way all Republicans operate? I know they like to tell the same jokes over and over, because when my Republican brother Paul offers me ham for the 38th time over Christmas break (I’m a vegan, which is why it’s so funny) he laughs as hard as the very first time he offers me ham. I think Paul should try offering me a funnier meat product, such as haggis or pimiento loaf, just to mix things up. Similarly, I think D.C.-area Republicans need to find a new joke. Scott Walker and Paul Ryan are presumably ready.

Royal baby watch: One of the best things about being an American is not having to care about the institutionalized hereditary wealth and privilege of people who would be reduced to signing autographs next to the Game of Thrones booth at Comic-Con were Ol’ Britannia ever to wise up and cut them loose from the welfare rolls.

Strangely, conservatives, who never pass up a chance to tell government freeloaders how shameful their lot in life is, tend to give the royal family a pass because, you know, they have good bloodlines and a bunch of old stuffed animal heads harvested by the Hindoo manservants of really important dead relatives with even awesomer bloodlines. Whereas I say, force them to work. Yo, Liz. If you got time to preen, you got time to clean.

Seriously, though, where would these clowns be were it not for the largesse of the British people? Prince Charles? On a good day he looks like a bowl of lukewarm Quaker oatmeal, and on a bad day he looks like Prince Charles. Who’s going to hire him?

But, of course, we Americans do care about this stuff, as evidenced by Natalie Morales’ lengthy exile to the British Isles, where the Today Show’s No. 1 news reader has been left to daily ponder for close to a fortnight just how wrinkly, pink, bald, and naked mole rat-like Middleton’s regal fetus would ultimately turn out to be. And what gender it would be, of course.

Well, we now have an answer. It’s a boy! Like about 180,000 other babies born on the same day. But this one is special because … well, just because.

Aren’t you glad we live in a meritocracy?

(Continued)

Are you ready … for some football? Packers training camp starts this week, marking the official start of summer’s descent into fall — every true Wisconsinite’s favorite season. I’m geeked about the team’s prospects. Following Aaron Rodgers’ game for the ages in the 2010 playoffs (after the 2009 season), which unfortunately ended in a Packers loss, I emailed a group of psychically wounded cronies with this: “Super Bowl 2011. Green Bay vs. AFC team to be named later. Mark it, Dude.”

Sometimes I get lucky and get one right. I predicted an Obama re-election victory, I predicted someone would eventually consent to marry me despite my having a head the size of a Budweiser pony keg, and I predicted a Packers Super Bowl appearance following the 2010 season. I went far, far out on a limb with all of those, and all came true.

Well, I’ve got a good feeling about the Packers again this year.

Mark it.

One last sports bit, hot off the presses: Ryan Braun is not worthy of a Brewers uniform — and it’s hard to sink lower than that these days.

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