Singing in the rain

There was me, that is Uncle Buck, and my three droogs, that is LT, Griff, and Gaylicks, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening. The Korova milkbar sold milk-plus, milk plus vellocet or synthemesc or drencrom, which is what we were drinking. This would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of the old ultra-violence.


As it turned out, after a lovely day of golf and carrying on Saturday night, Sunday was ruined for your old Uncle Buck as a promising afternoon of Red Sox baseball and the final round of the PGA Championship were both postponed by rain.

While Phil Mickelson would finally take the trophy on Monday morning, it was of little consolation to your Uncle Buck. On the plus side the rain couldn't spoil the back to back drubbings the Sox put on Chicago pitchers Mark Buehrle and Jon Garland (and it apparently bailed out the Sox after Matt Clement and the boys trailed 5-2 when the game was called). Taking the first two games of the series gave the Sox 13 strait wins at Fenway. Now it's on to Detroit. "It's funny how the colors of the real world only seem really real when you viddy them on the screen."

''Let the stormy clouds chase everyone from the place. Come on with the rain I've a smile on my face. I'll walk down the lane to a happy refrain. I'm singing... just singin' in the rain.''

''Viddy well, little brother. Viddy well.''