Shamwow, walking tacos and other things Rickey might like

Absolutely crazy week, which explains why we’re getting the special Deezo Pre-Inauguration Friday, er, Monday Five.

1) Apparently I make a mean "walking taco." Rachael Ray would be so proud.

As the father of a high school athlete, I am assigned assorted duties, among them working in the concession stand during meets.

We sell a steady stream of popcorn, candy, popcorn, soggy bun hot dogs, popcorn, warm pizza slices, more popcorn and walking tacos, which I believe are a Michigan thing.

Basically, you take snack-sized back of Fritos, carefully open the top and spoon in taco meat, cheese, and a little bit of sour cream. Hand the kids a fork and a napkin, and off they go.

Only I decided to shake this up a little bit, adding cheese first, then the taco meat, then a lot more cheese before a generous spoonful of sour cream. This allows some of the cheese to melt over the Fritos.

I didn’t think this was too revolutionary, but one of the other parents was impressed and declared I make the best walking taco.

Sports parents, I learned, are very competitive, because one of the other parents overhead this and wanted to know why my walking tacos earned such a distinction.

Thinking this was a joke, I held up one of her earlier attempts, where she accidentally split the Frito bag, making it un-walkable.

This, however, was not deemed funny.

The rest of the shift was spent rushing over to the crock pot with the taco meat as soon as the order was placed, me defending my title and the other parent trying to top me like the Phillies in the last week in the last two seasons.

Unlike the Mets, I prevailed.



2) From the Department of Things I Really Shouldn’t Care About, But Do anyway, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame announced it class of 2009: Metallica, Run-DMC, Jeff Beck, Bobby Womack and Little Anthony and the Imperials.

So, in review, the guys who sang "Shimmy Shimmy Ko-Ko Bop" about 50 years ago are enshrined, while the guys who sang, "Sultans of Swing" are not.

Bobby Womack, in. Rush, not.

It’s a rock and roll hall, right?

Will knows I vent about this each year and had a response ready when the news came down on Wednesday.

"I’ve decided to refuse to care about the RNRHOF until the following are inducted (all of them): Rush, Genesis, Peter Gabriel, Chicago, Kiss, Yes, ELO, Robert Plant, Pete Townshend, Dire Straits and ABBA. And I hated ABBA, but if you're going to include Madonna, then ABBA totally belongs."

Spot-on, as always, except that I like ABBA.

Meanwhile, we can all sit back and wait for that induction ceremony when the guys from Metallica jam with Little Anthony.



3) The Baseball Hall of Fame did a little better, adding another former Mets to its ranks, along with Jim Rice, who we spanked handily in the 1986 World Series.

Sadly, the Veteran’s Committee elected another dead Yankee. Joe Gordon died in 1978 and has not played since 1950 — pre-dating even Little Anthony!

Can someone explain to me how a guy can be not Hall-worthy for 47 years and suddenly earn a place beside Tom Seaver, Willie Mays, Richie Ashburn, Duke Snider, Warren Spahn and other Mets of note in year No. 48?



4) Grand Rapids has become a large enough city that two guys can show up at an outdoor event dressed as Scooby Doo and Under Dog and attract hardly any attention.

This was New Year’s Eve, and Grand Rapids was dropping a lighted ball, like in Times Square.

The difference was that our ball was dropped by a crane instead of down a flag pole atop a building and the people in attendance were actual area residents who went home with their wallets instead of the tourists who flood the homeland hoping to appear briefly on New Year’s Rockin’ Eve.

But ignoring a couple guys dressed like dogs was a very New York thing to do. I was impressed.



5) I’m strangely fascinated by the guy in the Shamwow commercials.

Clearly he’s a freak. The hair, the headset microphone, the ‘tude and the fact that he almost makes me believe that a yellow rag can soak up a Diet Coke spill and arrange a cease fire in the Gaza Strip. His delivery reminds me of a three-card monte dealer.

Did some research and it turns out Shammie’s name is Vince Offer and he wrote and directed the 1999 film "The Underground Comedy Movie" that a New York Post review gave zero stars, said it "may be the least amusing comedy ever made."

Ouch. But that explains why Vice is hawking miracle rags.