Originally 09/12/00
It's true. I'm back, grayer, but just as foolish.

May I start with a few humble thank you's.

To Bill, who befriended me when I feared there would never be another. Thank
you. Swift, strong, deadly. Your aim is true, your foot is large.

To Ron, who took the trouble to find me, and reminded me it's important to
laugh everyday. Who expanded my horizons by taking me on bike rides with his
writings. And told me I say "alot" alot, and alot isn't even a word. I'll try
to keep ahold of that truth. Thank you, alot.

To Randy, my artistic brother, who inspires many with his work. And has
helpful hints, like, "if a fingernail splits seal it with super glue." Don't
laugh, it works. But I liked the resulting gloss so much it made me uneasy.
Thank you.

To Mavis. For Saturdays filled with coffee and laughter. My weekly oasis of
sanity. Thank you.

By the way, Mavis had a helpful hint of her own I'd like to share. My glasses
were turning my temples green, and my watch was turning my wrist green also.
Were I younger I would have been content to sit on fashions cutting edge. But
I am not, so I was not. Besides, a razor is no place to park your butt. There
are probably Public Service Announcements about it, or there should be.
Anyway, Mavis told me to get some clear nail polish and coat the offending
articles. It worked.

Some of the more cynical and snide of you are speculating I was tempted to do
my fingernails at the same time, or at least my toenails. Not really, because
I tend to go overboard when I do things. First the nails, then I'd be looking
through the Wife's closet. Be realistic, I'm a foot taller and a 100 pounds
heavier, nothing of hers is going to fit. With her clothes and this beard I'd
look like a hooker from Jersey.

That was in terribly poor taste. Wish I could say for sure it won't happen
again. But I can't, so I won't. Sorry. Let's move on.

But not too far. More about me. Sunday morning, on the way to church, I
noticed the car was wet, and there were tree branches laying in the street.
Immediately, my clever brain recognized the significance so I asked the wife,
"Was there a storm last night honey?"

Her reply was somewhat exasperated. She informed me there had not been a
storm that went through, but two storms. Neither she nor the kids could sleep
for the pounding hail, and the cannon-like thunder from the lightning that was
so close she almost felt like a lottery winner thank you very much. As you
can surmise from this story, I slept through it all. My talents tend to be
worthless to society, but they work for me.

The only other gift I have is world-class snoring. It's not really useful either,
not even to me. But my neighbor alledges he has seen it make bats flee the
attic. We need another witness to make that legal. My snoring is so vigorous it aparently causes my ribs
to bruise. The Wife has complained my snoring makes it hard for her to sleep.
Personally, I think it has more to do with her carpal tunnel syndrome, and
sore elbows. Who can say, I'm not a doctor and it's pure speculation. But
I'm sure she loves me. On the other hand, she gets kind of cranky when she's
tired. But enough about me. Let's move on again.

In the news lately, have been some animal right activists from Canada. This
one kind of hurts, because you always knew, "When this country goes to hell
I'm heading for Canada." We are apparently losing that option. The walls are
closing in and I'm finding it very hard to breath, just because of those
activists.

To explain, in case you haven't heard. A bunch of hosehead activists freed
14, count 'em, 14,000 minks from an Iowa mink farm. An Iowa farm, so how
does that usually go? Put a piece of grass in your teeth and your thumbs in
your bibs and say: It rained last night,near-catastrophe, but it was good for the minks.
Or, Yeah, it's hot, but it's good for the minks. Get your minks in yet? ...

How do you farm minks? I don'tknow. Here's an idea, send me your best
mink farm joke and I'll giggle andpass them on. They've got to be better than mine.
And doesn't that make you feel just a little better about yourself?

Minks. Back to the minks. So they released 14k minks. About half have been
recaptured, like fugitive felons. The other half were hit by cars. Which is
kind of crazy, because it's a rural area. There couldn't have been that many
cars. Were the drivers trying to score full-length coats? Were the minks so
disoriented or grief-stricken they were throwing themselves in front of cars?
Is it possible they were actually lemmings, counterfeit minks, and they just
naturally laid down in the road en masse? I don't know, and the media aren't
telling. I smell coverup. It could make a terrific state slogan though,
"Iowa, Better Road Kill Than Beverly Hills." But I digress.

Upon being told of the massive loss of mink life, the head of the organization
that did it (Great White PETA?) said the minks were going to die anyway. Cold
comfort to the surviving minks. I think the guy and his followers should be
hunted down and shot. It wouldn't be a great loss, they're going to die
anyway.

That was a long trip around a small barn.

In the news today it was said the same gallant band of idiots freed a ...
bunch of pigeons. Mucho of them died. (are you happy Ron?) The owners are
trying to catch the rest before they too die. Because there aren't enough
statues in the area for them to survive. The Gallant Band of Idiots may
profess to love mother nature, but they do not know her ways.
(Everyone nod soberly)

I could have sworn I was going to cover more ground than that. But it's too
late, and the bats are getting rowdy. Sometimes a man has to do what a man
has to do, and the wife doesn't get any sleep.

You clean your mind up right now.

Good night all.