February 2010 Issue

March 4th, 2010 by admin

So then the guy turns back to his vehicle, opens a hatch in the floor of the cargo compartment, reaches in, and pulls out a humongous revolver, I mean Dirty Harry .44 Magnum humongous, sticks it in what I now realize is the large leather holster on the right grip of the walker, and toddles off. In broad daylight in small town Ohio. On Federal property, no less. Whoa.

I don’t have a problem with guns, generally. Everyone out here has guns. But what’s the plan here? Not gonna take any more guff from the village pharmacist? Planning to settle a score at the Elks Lodge?  Or just free-range paranoid? This is, of course, a town that drove the Pakistani-owned Quickee-Mart out of business because they were convinced that the owner (a nice guy, in my experience) was a terrorist sleeper agent. Just another day in Weirdville, I guess.

And that’s the news from East Ratsass, where all the pizza is soggy, all the animals have attitude, and the elements themselves conspire against you.  And now, on with our show….

Page 3 of 3 | Previous page

Posted in columns, February 2010, readme | 2 comments

Previous post:
Next post:

  1. Ron Furgerson:

    March 10th, 2010 at 4:58 pm

    Great article. I have an aversion to all cats, well — except the Kentucky Wild-Cats. I’m looking forward to receiving your monthly missives. <

  2. Karen Crawford:

    March 18th, 2010 at 3:50 pm

    I just LOVE your website. I have used “you” (it, the website) for quite a while.

    Today, I looked up “Katy bar the door” on your site. I used it on my boss’s work calendar, and he had never heard the phrase. I was compelled to find out what you had to say about it, before I gave him my lame, pitiful, unsubstantiated definition. Upon finding your thoughts on the origin and definition of “Katy bar the door” I discovered your wonderful mouse story. (I also HAD to read every entry for that date, which, by the way, supports your theory about workers’ declining productivity) Afterwards, I shared your mouse story from November 17, 2003, with a friend at work,(yes, I could hear the time clock ticking away as I made a vain attempt to regurgitate your story in a manner that would bear homage to the original). Afterwards, I sent her the link to your website (more lost productivity)!

    All that information just to tell you, I feel compelled to say, “THANKS!”

    I enjoy your stories, and your delightful ability to describe a scene in minute detail, and keep me smiling or laughing all the way through! You are a treasure.

    I was thinking, I wish there was some way I could thank you. Then I spent a few more minutes discovering that I could pay for a subscription, a small token of thanks for all you do. So, as “they” say, “the check is in the mail”!

    Regards,
    KC
    Karen V. Crawford from sunny, warm Arizona