A very rare off-night for the Red Sox gives me a chance to reflect on some non-baseball things going on around me. None of it is really any good, so prepare for a rant.

America needs a marketing enema. People are being paid millions of dollars for huge corporations to develop commercials that are supposed to make us want to buy their product. I’ve already talked about the “feed yer lawn, feed et” nonsense. Ortho has decided to use an Attila the Hun campaign for their weed killer…makes sense. Sticking with the historical theme, we’ve got Alexander Hamilton reciting poems about mortgages and Ben Franklin trying to get you to join his Masonic cult. And let’s not forget McDonald’s latest jingle where they say everything to the tune of “Do You Know The Muffin Man?” Brutal.

The Big Schill strikes again, boarding up his Rhode Island company headquarters and contributing to the state’s unemployment. Hard to believe the guy from the hallowed halls of¬†Yavapai College (no idea if he has any degree) and last place finisher on Celebrity Jeopardy couldn’t run a company. And the way the holier-than-thou windbag has handled it has been less than stellar. Jackass.

It comes in threes. The world has been saddened by the too-soon loss of three greats. Donna Summer, disco queen of the late seventies that gave us countless hits to jerk awkwardly around the dance floor at Celebrations in Kenmore Square, passed away after battling lung cancer. Robin Gibb, another disco icon, also lost his battle with cancer. Before exploding to the top of the charts with the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, The Bee Gees had already made it big with their ballads in the sixties. Last but not least, Mitch from Swamp People died after having a seizure on his boat. Rest in peace.

Back to baseball tomorrow. Lester faces the Rays and the Sox face the possibility of going above .500 for the first time in 2012.