For a guy that claims complete neutrality in matters concerning organized sports, I have sure spent my fair share of time watching the teams I'd like to support blow it. Now that the Cubbies and Red Sox are gone, my baseball season is more or less over. I guess I should be happy that the Cubs didn't stink this year like most other years.

www.firecrowton.com is great. I got on there and entered a bogus name and email address, and made all sorts of senseless comparisons and allegations in my bid for Crowton's removal. Of course I don't know what I'm talking about, but maybe someone will start a petition, and just maybe we'll have another fun-filled recall election. If it comes to that, I'll be voting for Robert Redford as BYU's new Head Coach. At least Bob votes.

* * *

Color is slow to leave the mountains in October this year. Olympus was fire this morning as sunlight lit its ridges from the south. The day framed the essence of fall, and I needed to wet a line. Dad and I found the Provo alive as the memories that seem to live there, and we fished along the cabins. I caught two rainbows and a brown. All were healthy, and all were beautiful. Only a breath ago, I caught my first Provo brown this time of year in 1994. The date was September 14. Exactly one week before I left for the MTC. I thumped him on the head and wrapped him in grass. That evening, I cooked him on a grill at a cabin at Sundance. DK, DJ and a bunch of girls watched as I ate every last bite. I offered to share, but there seemed to be something wrong with eating something with its head still attached. The white eyeballs didn't help either. I remember how that trout tasted for some reason. I wonder now if it was really the taste of a great childhood about to end.

Dad caught two fish, and we both had an unfortunate encounter with a jerk. All in all, it was about as good as it gets on a Saturday on the Provo. I'm sure the other guy is writing about his encounter with two jerks, so I can rest at ease knowing that my day was better than his.

Twas one day in seven. Five others are still being spent at QSI. Just two weeks ago, the new dog took a dump right outside my door. She's a chocolate lab, and she didn't even have the decency to keep it in one place. Makes me wonder what's so darned important that causes an animal to deficate on the run. The negative air pressure in my office sucked the stench in and held it hostage for about an hour. If there is an animal with less self respect than a dog, tell me about it, but keep it at bay. I believe more than ever that there will be plenty of dogs in hell.

Well, back to Perry Mason with Eddie. He says it's a "great show," and I'm curious to find out how he came up with that.

S