I'm not sure where he found it, but an Ogle Mole sent us this picture of Jim Traber sleeping in a dorm room. Something tells me Trabes was probably tired from "giving it up to himself" all day long.
What a weird picture. For one, I think this photo officially puts white cargo shorts in the same "coolness" category as jorts and mandals. And what's the girl in black doing? She's probably waiting for Regular Jim to roll on his side so she can steal his golden goose, get out of the room, and climb back down the beanstalk to safety!
Anyway, while we're on the topic of the King of the Yardbirds, it's probably a good time to bring up a couple of recent life events the Ultimate has gone through. One of them is that he was admitted to hospital recently due to a clogged artery (seriously) from all the Johnsonville brats, Jersey Mike's cheesesteaks and Beachnut chew he's devoured over his lifetime. The other thing is that one of his adopted daughters had a baby, thus making Regular Jim Traber a first-time grandpa.
It's the whole Regular Jim Traber is a grandpa thing that's generated a few emails to the Ogle in-box. People seem to think that it's kind of ironic that the daughter of a staunch Cuban cigar smoking, illegal wager making moralist had a child out-of-wedlock. Maybe it is, but who really cares. Lots of people have pre-marital sex, and in Oklahoma, that usually results in having children out-of-wedlock. If anything, we should give his daughter a medal for not rushing out and marrying the guy that got her pregnant. As our high divorce and teen pregnancy rates show, that's not always the best course of action.
The thing that does concern me is Regular Jim Traber's health. Since he's worked in this market he's had to deal with gout, exploding colons and now a clogged artery. What's next? Leprosy? Diabetes?? Falling Pianos??? I mean even though we can't stand the blowhard, we really don't want him to die. If that happens, not only would we have to write a kind obituary, but we'd lose at good two weeks of material a year. I'm not sure how'd we make up for that.
Also, what in Rick Mitchell's wardrobe would we do with Cardboard Jim? The plan has always been to give him a Viking burial at Lake Hefner, but the lake doesn't have any water. Clark Matthews has suggested that we cremate him and send the ashes to that Japanese pitcher Regular Jim chased around the bases. That's probably not a bad idea.
