What with all the CNN.com attention I’m getting this week over at the Tiny Bidness, I went ahead and pulled the trigger on something new: Guided kayaking tours.

Our guide is a regular who’s been camping here as long as I’ve owned the place, and he’s decided to get into the “out-of-doors” market space. Who knows how it will go, but since he’s out there practically every weekend anyway, he decided to see if he could make a little change off of it.

I can’t hit the sack without making note of the fact that young Hank Blalock of Your Texas Rangers had the game-winning homer in the All-Star Game last night. I was watching, of course, hoping just for something like this.

As a stRanger fan, this is all I can hope for, you see, probably for the next two, if not three, years. But it sure is sweet seeing it on a national stage.

Hank came up as a rook last year, and just plain knuckled under miserably to all the expectations piled on him. This year, though, he is showing what he gots, and he gots a lot. You didn’t see it last night, but he’s playing some damn fine hot corner, too. Some of the local pundits are calling this the best infield in the majors, what with A-Rod and Michael Young up the middle and Tex Texeira at the numero uno sack. Well, I’ll take that, what with coming from the Nelson Norman/Ned Yost days.

Having a good defense means zippo these days, of course, since their effect on a a game is nothing but luck and chance, if you listen to the stat-heads of the world who’ll spend hours putting you in a coma telling you there’s no statistical way to measure range, arm, and fielding ability. Nope — it’s all walks and homers and strikeouts for them.

Probably my biggest coup of this week was winning the bidding for the rights to lunch with Paul Frankenstein, editor-n-publisher of the esteemed Mimeograph (which frightens me with all the good writing on display there) and all-around NYC bon vivant. Since I won the bidding, I can either appoint a proxy, or I can put it in this pocket right here (left hand front, khaki shorts with a small rip on the left leg) and save it for the next time I’m in NYC. Since that will likely be never*, I’m leaning toward a proxy.

Leave me a comment on why you should be the one to have lunch with Paully. Or, alternatively, leave a comment with Paul. I have no life, and I monitor his comments with alarming frequency, as I’m sure his webalizer stats show.

* If I ever do find myself in those miserable environs, I fully expect my friendly interweb buddies to rush to my side ANYWAY and make my stay a happy one.