Take Home an Amusement Park

Santa’s Village Amusement Park in Dundee, Ill., is a staple of the childhood memories of local Baby Boomers that closed last year. While nothing can take the place of those memories, those with the yard space can bring home big souvenirs tomorrow as they auction off the equipment and rides like The Dragonfly, the Fire Chief Crazy Bus, and the Tubs-O-Fun. The auction catalog can be found here. They’re even selling off their Zamboni machines. Come on, you always wanted a Zamboni, right? Probably cheaper than a Hummer.

All I want is one of their Skee-Ball alleys. With enough practice, maybe I could finally beat it.

Via Gaper’s Block.


* This morning, at 7:46 Eastern time, America welcomed its 300,000,000th citizen, according to the Census Bureau. He then managed to pimp me out of the last parking space in the lot.

* Speaking of pimps, the gentlemen with the bling are one of the biggest Halloween costumes this year, at least from what I can see at the transient stores that pop up in empty storefronts. Pimps and pirates this year. Hmmmm. Is there a political joke in there?

* But considering how slutty the other costumes are getting, it’s hard NOT to imagine having pimps around.

* Hey, Dr. Frankenstein: Re-Animation is Murder Backwards!

* I’m trying to figure out a way to keep our pumpkins safe from the hordes of ravenous squirrels in the hood. Thinking of spraying them with oil mixed with Thai hot sauce, but I’m afraid they’ll start to like that little endorphin rush and keep coming back for more, looking for jalapeno poppers or something.

* I was all set to make a stand this fall, and not bother to watch any football at all on TV. I had plenty of reasons–the main one being that, if a guy follows more than one sport, he’s got too much time on his hands. And what do I get for my resolve? A Chicago Bears team that apparently employs witchcraft to win games (see last night’s failed field goal by Arizona) and a Michigan team that might make it to #2 by the time the Ohio State game rolls around. Great. Just great.

No Music, No Chicken, Just Guts

Just got through watching Kenny Rogers’ PHENOMENAL pitching job for the Tigers against the Yankees. I’ve never seen someone so in control of his curveball. He could be with Tom Cruise and the Impossible Mission squad, and throw round things with great accuracy, like into melting nuclear cores past a bad guy with a smacker of some kind. And eventually he’d snap Cruise into little pieces, so it would be entertaining AND a public service.

And he got to do it against the Yankees. Christmas in October. It’s so nice to see Joe Torre give his best Frankenstein face in the dugout, and watch Jeter and Damon and the rest of them just give up. After every strike toward the end, Rogers shouted at Rodriguez, “Come on! Gimme the Ball!” I expected him to take a bite out of it like a big Granny Smith. He’s never had any luck against the Yankees, and maybe they got lax, but he was so fired up I thought he’d have an aneurysm. It’s just so cool to see a man set a goal and rise to the occasion against all the stats. Dare I say it, I live for this.

I didn’t want to sit and watch a ballgame all night, have other important things to take care of. But that game was one for the ages, and if the Tigers are going to advance in the playoffs (a big if–I expect the Yankees to score about 15 runs tomorrow, just out of blue-ball frustration), I needed to see this one. Hoo Dog. I’m going to go strap some ice on my thumb, cuz I kept rewinding the Tivo to replay the pitches.