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Here on the island we love our baseball and we all have our favorite players and teams. I know Gilligan and the Skipper are both diehard Mariners fans while I, Mary Ann, despite being born and bread in good old Kansas, am partial to both the Dodgers and the Red Sox since falling in love with Manny Ramirez so many years ago.

So you can imagine how upset I was yesterday when Friday’s issue of The Los Angeles Times washed ashore and I learned that Manny, who’s hitting .415 with two homers and 12 RBI’s this season, just went on the 15-day disabled list. And although the doctors and trainers think with proper rehab Manny could be back in the lineup as early as May 3rd I couldn’t be so optimistic. I really don’t believe the image to the right can be considered “proper rehab” by anyone’s definition. But then again, it could just be another case of “Manny being Manny” and even if not, Manny, I love you anyway!

That’s it for the tale of our castaways for now.

Don’t you love farce? My fault I fear. I thought that you’d want what I want. Sorry, my dear. But where are the clowns? Quick, send in the clowns. Don’t bother, they’re here.

And now a little clown humor:

Two cannibals were eating a clown, when one turns to the other and says: “does this taste funny to you?”

That’s it for the tale of our castaways for now.

Growing up on a farm in Winfield, Kansas I, Mary Ann, used to hear a lot of expressions; knee-high to a grasshopper (short), couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket (can’t sing), going to a goat’s house for wool (wasting your time), that I never paid much thought.

And even here on the island we have our own expressions like “wouldn’t know a bunch of bananas if they fell on your head” (not very smart) or “take your head out of your Gilligan” (stop acting dumb) that have become commonplace, household or huthold words, if you will.

But as Ginger and I engaged in our usual “girl talk” as we got ready for bed the other night and Ginger started complaining about being “nexted” it really made me stop and think.

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