As we all hunker in our bunkers and wait for the deluge of National Folk Festival folk to show up, it seems like as good a time as any to dispose of a few random rants.

You know what I’m talking about, right? The kind of rants that work great when a sports columnist has either a) too many good ideas to stuff into one weekly column, or, if you prefer, b) not enough good ideas to fill 16.40 inches of space (go ahead … measure it)

Before we start, do me a favor: If The Boss asks, tell him you thought all these ideas were wonderfully thought-provoking, didn’t make you spit out your corn flakes, and that I probably ought to get about 100 column inches a week. He’d love to hear it.

News item: Major League Baseball has set a strike date for Aug. 30, at which point the absurdly rich players will abandon their absurdly rich owners and leave us all in the lurch … again.

The rant: Yawwwwwn. How do I say this without getting expelled from Red Sox nation? As of this morning, our favorite team is seven games behind the Yuckees … I mean the Yankees. They’re in fourth in the wild-card race. Hmm … Maybe a good ol’ strike will be just what it takes to derail Steinbrenner’s bunch for a change. Plus, it’s not like we really need baseball. After all, it’s almost football season.

News item: It’s almost football season.

The rant: You’ve gotta be kidding me. It’s still 80 degrees. It was about a hundred and fifty last week. Where did summer go? Where did all my vacation go? Where did I go on all my vacations? OK, Boss. I’ve got a deal for you: I’ll trade you the 100 inches a week for a couple more weeks of fun in the sun. Note to readers: If The Boss asks, tell him I deserve it.

News item: A baseball player from Harlem became famous this week when he hit a home run at the Little League World Series and (surprise) acted just like the players he sees on ESPN every night. He hopped around and gestured and did the kind of things that would have earned a major leaguer an ear-hole special the next time up.

The rant: (pick a clich?): You reap what you sow. The apple never falls far from the tree. Character starts at the top. It was a freshman mistake.

The kid may be only 12, but it’s never too early to live by a simple rule: Act like you’ve been there before. Luckily, his manager apparently saw things the same way.

News item: A number of forest fires have cropped up in Maine’s vast wilderness.

Unrelated news item (or is it?) An Ellsworth house caught fire this week, and firefighters are blaming the blaze on (believe it or not), a discarded bottle of moose oil.

The rant: Where to start? First, I’ve heard of moose-meat and moose-juice, but never heard tell of moose oil. Second, if moose are full of oil, where do they hide their dipsticks? Third, the moose oil apparently caught fire all by itself, because, it seems it’s susceptible to spontaneous chemical breakdown, just like most organic oils are.

I’m confused … alarmed … and nearly ready to cancel all my future vacations in the wild. It’s bad enough that these animals like to tap-dance in front of cars. Now we may have a bunch of potentially explosive critters running around, ready to spontaneously combust.

Lucky for me, I’m out of vacation. And it’s nearly football season.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.