Rice vs. University of Houston

From under the tables at Willy's Pub, Ladies and Gentlemen, the Marching Owl Band!

Summer brought many changes to Houston. Why, the Astrodome itself became number two, not to Jay Mark's bald spot, but to New Orleans' Superdome. We now sit in the world's smallest enclosed football stadium, like the Astros: first in war, first in peace, and last in the National League. But trying, very trying.

While crying over our loss of stature, Houstonians can still take pride in the Dome's monumental scoreboard – a wonder of Madison Avenue technology. The Arabs may have all the oil, but it's still a drop in the bucket compared with the world's largest Oil ads.

Yes, it was a bad year all around this summer in the Astrodome. The Astros were so bad, the Lord tried to rain them out. The MOB forms waves and salutes life's small wet spots with "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on my Head."

The Dome's problems were a molehill compared to those in the Rockies. Coors wanted to bring its spring brew to the bayou, and Spiro Agnew went to the mountain – shown on the field – to get a license for dealing. He didn't get it. Coors calld it "nolo contendere." That says it all.

This show is entirely weak, and the MOB needs its Wheaties. However, the box is empty – no ifs, and or Butz. The wheat's been exiled to Siberia, which is where some would like to send our band. So that's where we'll return, to our breakfast of champions.