14 hours ago
I’m
Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, the other
day I happened to mosey past the twinkle-in-the-eye new Bucks’ Shangri-La on my
way to a nearby George Webb Restaurant and remembered the joint didn’t yet have
a moniker slapped on it that somebody shelled out some big-time dough for, what
the fock.
And what kind of ballpark figure are we talking for what-you-call your “naming rights”? I thought I’d scout a potential price ’cause it might be nice to have something named after myself besides a tombstone or a court case. And HOLY FOCKING COW. To have your name affixed to a basketball court goes for about $120 million paid over 20 years—about $6 mil per year. Yeah, tell me about it, that’s a little rich for my blood, too. That’s one pricey shingle to hang out, I kid you not.
But maybe I’ve got a deal for you’s. And that is I’m offering naming rights to this here weekly column, “Art for Art’s Sake,” to the highest bidder. So what would it run you to affix your handle atop this page? Let me run some numbers here. Somewheres around 60,000 Badgerlanders and what-not sit down to read this paper at a weekly crack—not to mention a whole bunch of younger people who read this paper on a screen ’cause they’re too lazy to stop and pick up the hard stuff.
In the newspaper
game, it’s called “circulation” rather than “attendance” like in the sports
business, but it’s the same goddamn thing. Of interest to all potential pigeons
who’d like to land my naming rights, out of these 60,000-plus weekly fans,
60,000-plus of them turn to this page first. And not just 41 times a fall,
winter and spring—at only a max 17,500 fannies per Bucks game—but 52 focking times a year at 60,000
fannies, Jack.
So do the math: 52 times a conservative 60,000 equals 3,120,000, 3,120,000 satisfied and enlightened consumers of this column come rain, sleet, snow, mad dogs, hell, Englishmen and high water who each and every week will associate your name with truth, justice and the American Way.
And what am I asking for these naming rights? Let me tell you this. If you think forking out $120 million to have your moniker identified with an up-and-down basketball squad that—with a significant injury here and there, and/or free-agent desertion—would promise only disappointment is good advertising, then I got a weekly column I’d like to peddle you the naming rights to at a fraction of the cost. It won’t cost you $120 million. It won’t cost you $60 million. It won’t even cost you a paltry $1 million, no sir. I’m not here to rob you blind.
What I propose to soak you for the right to impress 3,120,000 potential customers per year with your corporate/store/product/restaurant name at the top of this page is two-bits a head. That’s right, a mere one-time $780,000 to name this column whatever the fock you want in perpetuity. Be it “Oscar Mayer for Oscar Mayer’s Sake,” “Chesterfield for Chesterfield’s Sake,” “Jim Beam for Jim Beam’s Sake” or “Hooters for Hooters’ Sake”; hell, makes no difference to me what kind of racket you’re in. If your business is selling the Lord, you can name this column “Christ for Christ’s Sake,” for christ sakes. All’s fine by me.
Believe me, I could care less what you call it. As long as you pony up the three-quarters of a million dollars, you can call this weekly essay “Piece of Crap” or even “Shit on a Shingle.”
So I hope you’s all seriously consider my generous offer to be a winner. I’m sure it promises a rosy future of so much winning; besides I really need the dough ’cause I could use a nice air conditioner. And speaking of the future, how ’bout I leave you with a supplemental astrological look-see that may be easier to read than one you may otherwise find in this paper ’cause it leaves out all the bullshit:
Aries:
Spirits improve following the writing of a check for “cash” and mailed to Art
Kumbalek, c/o Shepherd Express.
Taurus: Same as above, no bull.
Gemini: Send two checks, same address.
Cancer: See a doctor after writing check for “cash” to Art Kumbalek.
Leo: See “Aries” for special message, hairball.
Virgo: Ditto.
Libra: Hey knob, where’s my check?
Capricorn: It’s a wonderful life, but what would it be like without you around? Before you try to find out, take out a life insurance policy. Stars indicate “Art Kumbalek” to be beneficiary. Go jump off the Hoan, but make it look like an accident.
Aquarius: Hey waterboy, bear me a couple, three Jacksons why don’t you.
Pisces: Fish got to swim, and eagles got to fly from you to me.
Assclown: Yeah, you may never have heard of this sign before, but you know who you are and if you don’t, I do, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.
And what kind of ballpark figure are we talking for what-you-call your “naming rights”? I thought I’d scout a potential price ’cause it might be nice to have something named after myself besides a tombstone or a court case. And HOLY FOCKING COW. To have your name affixed to a basketball court goes for about $120 million paid over 20 years—about $6 mil per year. Yeah, tell me about it, that’s a little rich for my blood, too. That’s one pricey shingle to hang out, I kid you not.
But maybe I’ve got a deal for you’s. And that is I’m offering naming rights to this here weekly column, “Art for Art’s Sake,” to the highest bidder. So what would it run you to affix your handle atop this page? Let me run some numbers here. Somewheres around 60,000 Badgerlanders and what-not sit down to read this paper at a weekly crack—not to mention a whole bunch of younger people who read this paper on a screen ’cause they’re too lazy to stop and pick up the hard stuff.
So do the math: 52 times a conservative 60,000 equals 3,120,000, 3,120,000 satisfied and enlightened consumers of this column come rain, sleet, snow, mad dogs, hell, Englishmen and high water who each and every week will associate your name with truth, justice and the American Way.
And what am I asking for these naming rights? Let me tell you this. If you think forking out $120 million to have your moniker identified with an up-and-down basketball squad that—with a significant injury here and there, and/or free-agent desertion—would promise only disappointment is good advertising, then I got a weekly column I’d like to peddle you the naming rights to at a fraction of the cost. It won’t cost you $120 million. It won’t cost you $60 million. It won’t even cost you a paltry $1 million, no sir. I’m not here to rob you blind.
What I propose to soak you for the right to impress 3,120,000 potential customers per year with your corporate/store/product/restaurant name at the top of this page is two-bits a head. That’s right, a mere one-time $780,000 to name this column whatever the fock you want in perpetuity. Be it “Oscar Mayer for Oscar Mayer’s Sake,” “Chesterfield for Chesterfield’s Sake,” “Jim Beam for Jim Beam’s Sake” or “Hooters for Hooters’ Sake”; hell, makes no difference to me what kind of racket you’re in. If your business is selling the Lord, you can name this column “Christ for Christ’s Sake,” for christ sakes. All’s fine by me.
Believe me, I could care less what you call it. As long as you pony up the three-quarters of a million dollars, you can call this weekly essay “Piece of Crap” or even “Shit on a Shingle.”
So I hope you’s all seriously consider my generous offer to be a winner. I’m sure it promises a rosy future of so much winning; besides I really need the dough ’cause I could use a nice air conditioner. And speaking of the future, how ’bout I leave you with a supplemental astrological look-see that may be easier to read than one you may otherwise find in this paper ’cause it leaves out all the bullshit:
Taurus: Same as above, no bull.
Gemini: Send two checks, same address.
Cancer: See a doctor after writing check for “cash” to Art Kumbalek.
Leo: See “Aries” for special message, hairball.
Virgo: Ditto.
Libra: Hey knob, where’s my check?
Scorpio: See “Libra” for special message.
Sagittarius: Fock if I know.
Capricorn: It’s a wonderful life, but what would it be like without you around? Before you try to find out, take out a life insurance policy. Stars indicate “Art Kumbalek” to be beneficiary. Go jump off the Hoan, but make it look like an accident.
Aquarius: Hey waterboy, bear me a couple, three Jacksons why don’t you.
Pisces: Fish got to swim, and eagles got to fly from you to me.
Assclown: Yeah, you may never have heard of this sign before, but you know who you are and if you don’t, I do, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.
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