Those famous prognosticators, known in their own profession as meteorologists, were not very accurate last Saturday…imagine that!

Whoda thunkit!

But the good part of that observation is that they finally erred on the "good side".

Fort Dale Academy hosted Faith Academy for a double-header Saturday, both the boys baseball and girls softball teams.

The "rain" was so delayed in its forecast timing that I, believing the weather gurus, did not bring a cap with me to the fields. This resulted in that ever more familiar sensation of warmth, energy and an appearance of redness to parts of my head that never used to get exposed to the sun.

It was certainly fun, nonetheless. Now, if the climate would just level off somewhere in a happy medium.

But back to the aforementioned rain forecast.

A few drops occasionally fell during the latter innings of the second games, but it really came down in buckets about an hour "post game."

I had decided to finally sample Ruby Tuesday for the first time, as I took one of my daughters, Jessie and my wife Cindy out for a "night on the town."

The food was fabulous, and I don't mind saying that I ate every morsel on my overflowing plate (I got that number that has four different entrees on it) along with a "health-conscious" salad from the bar.

While we were eating, some old acquaintances that we never thought we would ever see again came in and down at the table beside us.

It was a group of six golfers from Minnesota that we met three years ago, when they came in to eat at Guiseppi's (Cindy was restaurant manager at the time).

They kept thinking that they had seen us before, and likewise for us.

Turns out I remembered a conversation we had with them during their first visit. It was regarding the improvements that would be seen in Minnesota if Jesse (The Body) Ventura were elected governor.

The golfers, I found out this time, were happy to report that they averaged about $2,000 more in their pockets annually now that Ventura has been in government, due to his cutting the wasted spending, this reducing the tax burden on working folks.

The interesting thing about these guys that have obviously fallen in love with southern hospitality was that a woman at another table, who, in traditional southern honesty, reminded them that "southern gentlemen" remove their caps at the dinner table, had just chastised them.

She went on to tell them how offended she was with their total disrespect, although there were people at several other tables in the restaurant wearing ball caps (many were coming in from the rain to eat, and discuss their sporting activities of the day, no doubt).

The visitors obliged and removed their caps, and went back to their meals.

Ironically, an observation was made when the southern family left the restaurant. One of the golfers said that he felt "offended" by the fact that although the lady mentioned above felt offended by them wearing their caps, it didn't seem to bother her as much as the visitors that her husband was wearing a knife in a scabbard on his belt, in plain-view.

Just goes to show you that what is important to some doesn't matter to others.

But when we parted company with the travelers, they exchanged e-mail addresses with us, still talking about how Cambrian Ridge was the most challenging golf course they had ever played on.

So, having related my weekend, I will close by saying that I'll be looking for you all at the ball fields, and you will surely find me in Deep Left Field.