Some things are plain stupid. There’s no gray area.

3-D Dumb.

Some people I know where robbed recently, but in his haste the robber dropped a piece of paper that was, unfortunately for him, a personal reminder of his upcoming court appearance. It included his name and address.

Oops.

And then there was the story out of Opelousas this week of the gentleman who stuck a handgun in his waistband. The gun was loaded, a live round in the chamber. It went off. Now, the man from Opelousas – and I use the term “man” loosely here — is not as loaded as he once was – although the story did contain the phrase “underwent reattachment surgery” and “Police had not determined why (stupid man’s name) was walking around with a pistol in his pants.”

Easy. No brain in his head.

Stupid move.

There are lots of ways to say that a guy’s parents don’t have to worry about the Yale Admissions Department clogging up the family doorway to offer their kid a scholarship. For no other reason than they make me laugh, I’ll offer my Top 10.

He’s a few crumbs short of a biscuit.

Somewhere, a village is missing its idiot.

It’s almost like he has a small piece of brain lodged in his head.

Dumb as a bag of hammers/sharp as a bowling ball.

He has a room temperature (or shoe-sized) IQ.

He’s a regular Elbert Einstein.

He’s lost all contact with the mothership.

He doesn’t have both oars in the water.

He fell out of the Stupid Tree and hit every branch on the way down. (That’s a bit long for me but it’s funny.)

My favorite: The wheel is turning but the hamster’s dead.

We all swallow a Stupid Pill from time to time.

But then there are things more along the lines of bad ideas. We call them mental muscle spasms. Brain cramps.

A boss buddy of mine found out the hard way this week that the letters T and G are very close to each other on the keyboard. For this reason, he will never be ending a work email with the phrase “Regards” again.

Muscle spasm.

I was told of a funeral in which the preacher, who kept candy in his desk, said that each Sunday morning the deceased would come into his office and, with a “Good morning!” and a smile, “go through my drawers.”

Brain cramp.

Finally, the worst idea I’ve heard of in a long time happened last week in Detroit, where Hall of Fame voice of the Detroit Tigers Ernie Harwell passed away at 92. A public viewing was held at Comerica Park, where the Tigers play. I am not a big “lying in state” guy to start with, but a casket on the warning track is off base on several levels. I didn’t like the picture of Ernie lying there, flowers all around, his statue by him, velvet ropes marking “foul ground,” for lack of a better term.

“Hey dad, remember when you took me to the park and we saw Mr. Ernie dead?”

“Those were great times son!”

At least there was no danger of him being hit by a foul ball. At least the ballclub didn’t lay their humble, summer-sweet play-by-play guy out during a game. Thankfully, the Tigers were on the road.

As was, I guess, Ernie.

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(Pictured: Designated Writers never knew this, but here Louisiana Tech teammates Tommy Spinks and Terry Bradshaw flank President Richard Nixon in the Oval Office. The president invited them because he is either honoring them for a bowl victory, for Bradshaw’s being chosen No. 1 in the NFL draft, or both of them were running for political office — ANOTHER thing Designated Writers didn’t know about — and this was a publicity still. You can discover the answer in a new book…)

Terry Bradshaw and Tommy Spinks were knotted by friendship and by countless passes the former threw to the latter. Much of that and a whole lot more is captured in a new book, “Dream Catcher — Based on a true story of Friendship, Faith, and Football.”

Nico van Thyn covered both as a sportswriter and classmate. He recently shared this: “As most of you know, they were teammates for nine years — at Oak Terrace Junior High for two, Woodlawn for three, Louisiana Tech for four, and briefly with the Pittsburgh Steelers. Until their senior year in high school, both were quarterbacks — with Tommy backing up Terry (but playing as the starter in junior high when Bradshaw twice broke his collarbone). Before their senior year at Woodlawn, Tommy switched to wide receiver … and you know the rest.”

We do, but the book figures to be more of “the rest.” Dream Catcher is produced by two of Tommy’s daughters, Kimberly Spinks Burleson and Teri Spinks Netterville, and is available now for $12.95 by pre-order at dreamcatcherbook.com. Only as many as you ask for will be printed at first, and the first edition will ship July 25.

The book began years ago as a letter Tommy, a few days before he died in 2007, wrote for Kimberly to give to Terry. Then the sisters’ mom found a large folder of their dad’s notes, stories of his life and thoughts on family and friends and faith. And football.

The girls thought that a compilation of these would be special to give to their families at Christmas. But the more they read, the more they felt as if they should make it available to anyone who wanted it, and they feel that anyone who went to Woodlawn, to Tech, who loves football, or who loves laughter and friendships, would probably enjoy the story..

Kimberly and Teri talk about the book on a short video on their Facebook pages..

designatedwriters@yahoo.com

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