Clock's ticking.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The Official Birthday of The Official Blogger of The Official Blog of The Ford hits in a little under six days.

Yep, next Sunday, The Ford will be living large ... at work.

That's all right; these things happen in the sports department, especially when someone is too stubborn/laissez-faire to ask for the day off.

Nevertheless, something monumental must be done to celebrate the occasion, either on the night before (when The Ford is also working, but can at least expect a deadline-assisted early departure) or the next few days afterward.

People, this is a big one. The big 2-7. Starting down the road to being closer to 30 than to 25.

In baseball terms, The Ford will be entering his prime power years, when all those warning-track doubles turn into meaty-midsection-powered home runs, when all those "old-man skills" The Ford exhibited as a young man finally come into play, when The Ford is eligible for arbitration and/or free agency in all but the stingiest of leagues.

Of course, The Ford's not quite sure how that metaphor translates into the real world, but he's liking the prospects.

In any event, this must be celebrated.

But how?

Ay, there's the rub.

The Ford has no idea.

He imagines drinking will be involved, and possibly fairer members of the fairest sex, preferably in states of various undress. But that seems like a lot to ask, considering how the rest of his life's gone to this point.

Anyway, The Ford needs a plan. A scheme. A hope.

And here's where we turn this whole Interneezy theezy on its heezy. ( That's "Internet thing on its head" for those readers not as willing to make jackasses of themselves with ironic use of outdated urban slang.)

YOU, dear reader, should tell THE FORD how he should celebrate the big 2-7. Apparently, this communication thing is a two-way street. (Of course, The Ford's seen some of you drive on two-way streets, so he's not feeling that confident in any event.)

No hope too big, no plan too dumb, no idea too small. (Aside from the ones that are too big, too dumb AND too small. The Ford's gotta draw the line somewhere.)

The Ford needs a plan. And he needs it soon.

Thus Ageth The Ford.