It seems one more of my sure-lock schemes to make me a rich, capitilistic playboy kabillionaire is down the toilet.
When Sammy Sosa was caught cheating with his corked bat my can't miss idea went down with him. Namely, Sammy Sosa Salsa. (say it once to yourself) Yes, I know. It's brilliant. A mega-star Latin hero endorsing a spicy sort of latin condiment. And the commercials! People saying "Sammy Sosa Salsa" three times fast or trying to. Then at the end, Sammy himself and his winning smile appears. I'd make millions. I will be in Chicago in mid-July and I already have tickets to a Cubs game. I am sure if Sammy heard my pitch he would be excited and ready to sign the deal. But now? I don't know. Back to the drawing board.
Nextly, (I know that's not a word but it should be)I am in the process of buying a new house. One thing that occurs to me as I do, is how each little subdivision now has to have a grand name. You have Parkers Plantation or Hampton Farm Estates. You picture a huge house, acres of beautiful land and crops, a babbling brook perhaps. Instead, you get a cookie cutter house, no trees and your neighbors so close you greet one another in the bathroom in the morning.
When I was growing up I lived in an "area" and it was truly a subdivision but there was no swanky name, no pretension, it didn't try to be more than it was.
I suppose though we can't expect truth in advertising either. I doubt we'll see "Stevens Soggy Sewage Sinkhole", "Nuclear Waste Creek", or "Bakers Bankruptcy Estates".
In conclusion, I may not be rich yet, but I"ll be able to tell people I live in "Snobhill Plantation Creek" and they'll be none the wiser.