A most interesting subject, I pondered outside the ice house in pre-dawn darkness earlier this morning, awaiting the promised drive by of Agent X across Sebastapol Avenue by the crossing signals.
Has the show clamped down on blogging about crowd size? Perhaps, more telling, is that John Ringling North II and James Royal ever allowed such in the first place. Gradually, I have noticed, checking his blog out now and then, a shift in Steve Copeland's daily accounts, and so I am losing interest. From realism, telling it like it is, to feel good everything-is-great of the sort that marks the ever-stolid, ever-loyal White Tops.
Gone for good? And, if so, why?
"Piccadilly cleaned their clock in Ohio!" shouted Agent X, hosting me through a crack in the window of his black limbo, suddenly pulling up to my vigil near the ice house. I rushed up to meet him at the window. What had he to reveal on the matter.
"Okay, from the inside, my contacts say that North the sequal, as you put it, doesn't like attendance estimates leaking out, figures rivals will get wind of lush markets and go after 'em the next year."
Are they paranoid? I shouted.
"Northfield! Show usually hits pay dirt for Kiwanis! Garden ran around 'em in a five day blowout, book ending Kelly Miller's one day! Damn near across the lot! Biz down by maybe a half!"
Do you think the show banned blogging about house size, I asked.
About to roll his window back up, with a blast of Concello smoke Agent X shouted back, "No, no, kid! Not that stupid. They do it nice like, tell the bloggers they got a serious problem, and why. That's all, now if those clowns want to get hired back, well, you figure."
Trying to snare one more quote from Agent X, I flailed my hands in the air, and shouted, "What do you think about that Garden character?"
"He's no Garden! He's a weed patch!"
Window up, shut. Limo skidding off into darkness.
Agent X was gone.