That was my response to my neighbors' persistent whining about my lack of holiday spirit. I refuse to yield to the pressure of members of what I call the Conspicuous Kilowatt Consumption Club, whose homes are so lit up that the dials of their electric meters are spinning like the propellers on a B-57. Last…
THE SEEDY UNDERBELLY OF THE ANIMAL KINGDOM
I was not aware until recently that farm animals were under such stress that they may need massage therapy. While I was in a farm supply store recently, I saw a small, hand-lettered sign which said, "Back Rubs: sows $600. cattle $850." This bears further investigation. Is the staff of the local farm store operating…
IF BROADWAY RECREATED BIBLICAL TIMES
When cable tv airs a Christmas special about Biblical times, is it really necessary to run a disclaimer in the caption that informs the viewer that, "This is a re-enactment"? Well, no kidding. I thought the entire Bible was a Broadway production produced by God, directed by the late great director Cecil B. DeMille, and…
YOU NEED A PERMIT FROM PETA FOR THAT
In a guilt-induced effort to get involved in the holiday spirit, I attempted to bring together, in a live, three-dimensional format, all twelve verses of the song, The Twelve Days of Christmas" on my front lawn. For the last decade, my sole contribution to outdoor Christmas decorations has been the placement of wreaths on the…
OVER THE BORDER WITHOUT A PASSPORT
If Lucy, the GPS voice in your car, directs you to take the next exit to reach your destination, keep in mind that sometimes Lucy is a lying bitch and a troublemaker. If you are ever visiting friends and relatives in Erie, Pennsylvania and decide to make a side trip to visit Niagra Falls, be…
AN ATTEMPT AT MIND CONTROL ENDS BADLY
It was a psychological experiment gone horribly awry. The objective? To test the power of the spoken word and its subsequent effect on the human psyche. The victim? My friend Ben, a pacifist so mellow that it would require the use of powerful pharmaceutical stimulants to bring him up to the level of a catatonic…
THE CITY SLICKER AND THE COUNTRY BUMPKIN
Never ask someone whose childhood nickname was Miss Prissy to go on a hiking trip with you. It never ends well. My sister had never been the outdoorsy type, not even when we were kids. My favorite place to be was up a tree or wading in a creek. Hers was indoors in a make-believe…
