Finally, I knew what I was missing.

It dawned on me, after 250-something page hits today, that I should have written something about The Wing Bowl, Philadelphia's annual Slob Festival. However, I ascribe to the old saying, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything." But that was yesterday.

Most (almost all) of the "unique visitors" linked to the essay I wrote last year about Wing Bowl 15, titled "Food as Sport". I didn't write about Wing Bowl 16 because everything I said last year still applies, plus one. I didn't get one hit from yesterday's Super Bowl post. That's me, always picking the wrong bowl.

Although they keep promising that each one is "the last one", the gang at WIP's morning show put on another Wing Bowl today. It's such nonsense, that on Thursday night I patrolled the house changing my radios to WXPN so that my alarm wouldn't wake me to the screaming nonsense as it has the previous 15 years. There's nothing like a good night's sleep. Here's a special Sick Mind "thank you" to Michaela Majoun and Bob Bumbera for a pleasant morning wake-up and drive to work. Perhaps it should be a habit?

I can proudly say that I avoided the eating contest altogether, and if you live outside the Philadelphia metropolitan area, don't feel as though you missed anything - unless your idea of entertainment is listening to people eat and listening to host Angelo Cataldi scream himself hoarse over women in various stages of undress (on the radio, shouting, "Look at these women!") while 20,000 early drunkards howl their approval. At least that's how the previous ones went, so I can only assume it was more of the same today.

There, see - I violated another old saying. Of course, my favorite one is, "Nobody ever lost money underestimating the intelligence of the American public."

That one, we know is true.

Times 16.