The Usual Suspect

If you check out his profile, you will note the following things about Mr. Michael "Mike" Morsch:

1.) He refers to himself in the third person.
2.) He is the executive editor of a newspaper group, leading one to assume that he possesses some degree of writing skill.
3.) He describes his brain child, Outta Leftfield, as a "humor column," leading one to assume that he possesses some sense of humor.

Let's put those facts to the test with his latest column, shall we?

Tuesday, March 23, 2010
A ballgame breaks out at the spelling bee

MM loves two things - baseball (which he finds a way to shoehorn into every one of his columns), and bad puns. For instance, he might entitle an essay on having to take a dump during a poker game "These deuces don't add up to a timely flush."

The spelling bee is a useful educational tool that promotes learning and competition, but really, it’s not a spectator sport.

He's right, but in the wrong way. It's obviously not a sport, but people love watching a good bee when it's on TV. The fact that it isn't a "sport" akin to football or hockey is so obvious it shouldn't even need to be stated - but then, we wouldn't have this undoubtedly hilarious article!

For those of you who have been to a spelling bee, this is not news. But believe it or not, I hadn’t been to one in a very long time until last weekend when Son of Blonde Accountant represented his school at the Our Lady of I Before E Except After C spelling bee in Quakertown.

I understand that bloggers assigning "code names" to friends and loved ones is a way of preserving their privacy (I guess)… but really, he can't even name his son OR the school he goes to? I'm virtually the only person reading this blog - does MM think he has stalkers?

It was what you would expect from a spelling bee of about 30 or so sixth, seventh and eighth graders. It was sponsored by the local Kiwanis Club, always and forever a noble group of community-minded folks. Our guy went out in the third round after having some difficulty on the word “difficulty.” He had added and errant “l” to make it “difficultly.”

Come on, kid. "Difficulty"? You're in middle school.

But the reality is that watching a spelling bee is about like watching the proverbial paint dry . . . with one exception this time: At intermission, a ballgame broke out at this spelling bee with the serving of . . . hotdogs!

Um… how does the serving of hotdogs qualify as "a ballgame"? As loyal reader The Jammer points out: "Why didn't a picnic break out at the spelling bee? Or a vacation? A walk on the boardwalk? An eating contest? A carnival? Or the zillion other places that people eat hotdogs." Well said, Jammer. Also, I like how he's more excited about the possibility of eating fatty pig intestine than about his son (or son-in-law) competing.

Hotdogs. H-O-T-D-O-G-S. Hotdogs. That I can spell. With M-U-S-T-A-R-D, of course.

This isn't funny.

I can’t help but think that spelling bees in general would be more entertaining if hotdogs were served at every competition. I’m going to call the Kiwanis guys and see if they can get that done.

Labels: Kiwanis, Mike Morsch, Montgomery Newspapers, Outta Leftfield

So basically he's bored until they serve hot dogs. He makes a flimsy connection between the spelling bee and hot dogs, and suggests that they serve them all the time. I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard to serve hot dogs at events… they're like one dollar per ton. Also, note that he labels the story with "Kiwanis" but not "hot dogs" or "spelling bee." He also labels every article with his own name, his employer, and the title of his own blog, pretty much negating the purpose of labels.

Later, MM changed every "Kiwanis" reference to "Knights of Columbus," but failed to update his label, further illustrating his absolute blogging cluelessness.