JULY 22 - JULY 28, 2000
JULY 28, 2K
The wisdom of it all
Good morning. It is 59.9 degrees at 6:21 A.M. Many of you have already noticed
that I am getting started later than normal. Let me tell you why. My e-mails were five
times more this morning than normal. Why? Think about it!
I finally learned what Bill Clinton always knew:
"Compliment a man he wonders what you want from him. Compliment a woman or women in
general, and you have the world!"
It has been an interesting week. The weather got warmer and I finally got all the
grass cut at the same time. I dropped another three pounds on my protein and whiskey diet.
And the response on the Marjorie West story has staggered me.
The week started out with me attacking a woman who was stealing the Mountain
Laurel Review for whatever reason. I dubbed her "Moose Butt" and the game
was afoot. And then I come to my senses and the world is a much brighter place. My
goodness! What a revelation. And the chiefs are back, too. They stopped by last night. Red
Jacket was all worked up.
"You and this Tom Clark guy have a corner on making people think about things,
" he said to me.
"We do?" I asked.
"You do," Cornplanter said, agreeing with his old friend/sometimes enemy.
"Yes, you do," Red Jacket said. "And I think you should have a
writer who can give the Native American point of view, too. We are humorous, too.
Actually, we have more humor than most white men."
"And women, too," Cornplanter added.
"More than Ellen Degenerate?" I asked.
"Definitely more than her," he said. "She looks like a man and
wishes she was. What is funny about that?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said. "Some people get a kick out of gay and
lesbian humor."
"What's funny about that?" Red Jacket demanded.
I shrugged and felt it might not be a good idea to go there. I remember the Seneca
burning people alive and I realized that the old chief just might have that in mind for
people like that. At least that is what I took from the tone of his voice. I changed the
subject.
"What do you have in mind?" I asked. "Do you want to write a weekly
column like Tom and I do?"
"Yes," he said sternly. "I am glad you have come up with that
idea," he said. "What day of the week will be mine?" he asked.
Then I made a big mistake. I told him the truth.
"Actually," I began. "No day special. You just write me a column and
get it to me by Saturday and I will use it sometime in the next week. Generally, if I was
over the Rainbow too long the night before, or if I have a cold or something like that, I
use the column to fill in until I am up to peak. Kind of like I use my e-mails when
nothing special is going on."
Red Jacket did not like that idea at all and he told me so.
"No!" he roared. He said it so loud he woke up Sharyn.
"Bud. Who is out there with you?" she asked in an irritated tone. (You
never want to wake her up when she is sleeping. Bad, bad, bad idea.)
"No one, honey," I said hoping she would go back to sleep. I was wrong.
"Don't tell me no one. I heard a man yell. Who is out there?"
I had to answer or the next thing she would be out in the living room and the deal
I have with the chiefs is that unless we are at a bar, no one else sees them but me. So I
answered.
"It's only Chief Cornplanter and Chief Red Jacket," I said. Knowing that
saying that would not be enough, I explained the rest, too. "Chief Red Jacket wants
to write a column like Tom Clark does. He says Indians have more humor than white
men."
"Oh," she said. "Keep it down. I'm trying to sleep."
Her intervention got me off the hook with Red Jacket. Both he and Cornplanter
decided we could take this up at a later date. Red Jacket suggested we meet at the
Bradford Hotel and discuss his day and his payment. (Payment? Who pays me?) I let
it slide and locked up after they left.
This morning while we were having our coffee Sharyn mentioned to me that she was
dreaming all night. "I dreamt you were meeting with Chief Cornplanter and Chief Red
Jacket in our living room last night," she said.
"Oh," I answered catching Bill Belitskus on the Erie news addressing the
people opposed to a new power plant in the area.
"Yes," she said. "And Red Jacket wanted to write for the Mountain
Laurel Review, too," she said.
"What a great idea," I said. "What an interesting dream."
And then for no reason she put down her coffee, came over and kissed me. "I
love you," she said.
"I love you, too," I answered immediately, spilling coffee down the front
of my Cleveland Indians tee shirt.
She went back to her coffee and walked out on the front porch to enjoy the mild
morning and smell the air before it rains. It was on the front porch she found two perfect
eagle feathers - feathers only a chief may wear.
"What are these?" she asked.
"Look like eagle feathers to me."
"What are eagle feathers doing on our front porch?" she asked.
"Hard to say," I answered. "Either an eagle lost them or an Indian
Chief or two."
She looked at me like I was nuts and went into the house to get ready for work. I
breathed a sigh of relief and knew the worst had past for the moment anyway. And
immediately I was feeling smarter and much, much more wise. Wisdom. What a wonderful
thing.
Comments are welcome at editor@mlrmag.com.
Have a nice weekend. Gramps and Sam are out on the loose together this afternoon. If you
see us, say hello.
JULY 27, 2K
Pretty women and Indian Chiefs
Good morning. It is 59.5 degrees at 6:12 A.M. I am getting started later and later
because of the volume of e-mail. It has increased dramatically since we mentioned old
"Moose Butt." I also know that the picture of me with my "all too
cute" grandson, as AM put it, is a far cry from the one up top. That is three years
old already, and oh does time fly and take its toll. As far as fat jokes, I am down 22
pounds since May 22nd. Old "Moose Butt" seems to be putting on what I am losing.
So I do have room to talk.
But, between me talking about her enormous rear section and Tom Clark talking about the
"toothless teen moms" and the "dental challenged" of the area, we are
giving off the wrong impression. Today I will correct that and give all of our readers the
way it really is.
Don't get me wrong. "Moose Butt" is alive and lurking on the streets of
Bradford and haunting the restaurants of the town, too. So are the dirty, toothless
mutants. But that is only one segment of the population. Yesterday, alone and with the
help of family and old - and I mean old friends, the true reality set in on me. It began
when I left what is known around here as "the hill" and went down to Bradford
town.
I shot over to Bradford Mall to get some speakers for out around the pool. Radio Shack
is one of the places around here I can regularly find what I need. The people who work
there are great. They go out of their way to be so helpful, that not being used to someone
actually wanting to help you becomes annoying at first. You almost want them to ignore you
just so you can get irritated. And when they don't ignore you, your back gets up and you
get irritated with that. Because of the excellent service, I was in and out, spent $48.01,
in less than ten minutes - and that was with other people in the store making purchases,
too.
Checking the time, I strolled around the Mall. I had a luncheon appointment at noon so
I did some window shopping. It was then that I began to notice the women. All of them,
regardless of age, had something that you don't find in the big cities. It was a calmness
and presence that was on all of their faces that said something about the area. They were
glad to be where they were.
I went to the bank to get some cash and the teller held up the new MLR and said
how much she enjoyed the story about Marjorie West. The smile on her face was genuine and
it warmed me. Then I went to Beefeaters and sat where I usually sit.
Next to me were two ladies who smiled when I sat down. I said hello and they returned
the greeting. Ed, my waiter, came over and chatted with me before getting me a beverage.
Then Dominic, the owner, came over and talked about the Marjorie West story for awhile.
When he left I was totally relaxed and at peace within myself. "What nice
people," I thought to myself.
Usually, in one of my stories, or even one of Tom's, this is where we would kick you in
the teeth and tell you some horrible tale just to destroy your hope, but that is not the
case today. It was at that moment, saying what nice people there were all around, Dianne
and her girlfriend came in and took the table on the other side of me.
Now I have always been a fan of women. I know I sound chauvinistic from time to time.
But in reality, I would rather deal with women any day of the week - the only exception
would be a few of them at The Error (not all!) and that carries over to some of the
more feminine men who have been associated with them. Dianne's entrance made a good day
better.
Women are beautiful at all ages and Dianne, and I might add, her friend who she
introduced me to, are the living proof. There is so much to be said for women vs
girls/young women. Girls are beautiful. Tanya, my niece was certainly very beautiful on
the deck by the pool later yesterday afternoon, as was her little niece, Lexi, swimming
around in the pool. But a woman carries with her something special and that comes only
with life and a few years of experience. And it was especially nice to see that come over
my daughter as she grew a little older, too.
There is so much to be said for a pleasant smile, a kind word, and even a hint of
sincerity. It goes a long way and women learn that. Being a man, I appreciate it, too.
About that time, Sharyn joined me.
To me, Sharyn is the epitome of what I am talking about. Her entrance illuminated me
and all the little girls, as pretty and as wispy as they may be, are no match for any
woman like Sharyn or Dianne. No. Any man who is at peace inside himself will see that in a
moment and as nice as the others may seem, there is no question as to where he will be.
It's funny. That stayed with me all day. I grilled swordfish steaks and made a great
salad to go with them. I watched a movie and settled in for the evening. Sharyn was tired
from being in the pool and eating a filling meal and went on to bed. The drawer from the
Rainbow came over and as I relaxed watching television I couldn't help thinking the same
thing over and over. And while I was two men came to my front door.
"Bud," a crackling old voice said. "Are you there?"
I recognized the voice as that of Chief Cornplanter. I hadn't seen or spoken with him
all year. The last I spoke with him was just after the election when he vowed he would
never vote again, not so much over me losing, but his man Cavallero with an "e"
losing. "I can't support cat haters," he said referring to Chris Hauser.
"Bud. Come out," another familiar old voice said. It was Red Jacket's and I
did as he asked. We sat on the front porch and chatted.
They brought me up to date on what they had been doing.
"We've been guest lecturers on a tour of European Universities on Native American
History," Cornplanter said.
"Yes," Red Jacket added. "We've been building up our Swiss bank
accounts, too. No taxes to pay if we don't bring the money back here."
We caught up on things. They were interested in what I was doing.
"You look great," Red Jacket said. "You look like you are at peace with
the world."
"I am," I said. Then I mentioned Aunt Rose passing.
"She was a beautiful woman," Red Jacket said. "A little young for me,
but I thought we could have gotten something going between us if you wouldn't have been so
protective of her."
"He did the right thing," Cornplanter said. "You're a cad. And besides,
Rose was too smart to swallow all of your lines. She never would have put up with you
chasing after little girls at the beach. She would have scalped you with her nail
file."
Red Jacket agreed. "I know. It is a character flaw in me. Women are so much more
beautiful than girls. They have a presence about them that girls don't have. I really did
like Rose. It was just the wrong century for us. Things could have been different a
hundred and fifty years ago. Oh well. Ceste la vie!"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I told them I was thinking the same thing all
day. How could that be? It was then that Cornplanter explained it to me.
"Wisdom," he said. "Wisdom is it all. You have wisdom finally and you
realize what is important and what is not. And that is why you are content and you are
satisfied."
We chatted on into the night and when they left I slept like a baby. As I drifted off
to sleep I could not help but think of how right they were.
Your comments are welcome at editor@mlrmag.com.
JULY 26, 2K
The Mailbag
Good morning. It is 55.4 degrees at 6:24 A. M. I love your mail. All I have to do is
run a picture of Sam with me and all is well with the world, except for one old sour puss.
We will deal with him first.
WAS READING YOUR "PUBLISHER'S PAGE" DATED JULY 14, 2000 AND WAS AMUSED AT
YOUR COMMENTS ABOUT THE NEW T- HANGARS AT OUR AIRPORT. YOU KNOW , THE COMMENTS ABOUT
LEAKY HANGARS,A FEW SELECT RICH GUYS, AND DON'T FORGET, THE BUILDER MADE A LARGE
PROFIT AND THEN RENIGGED ON THE 5 YEAR LEASE HE PROPOSED. WELL YOU MAY BE RIGHT.
"THAT'S THE MCKEAN COUNTY WAY"
I HOPE YOU DIDN'T FORGET, YOU VOTED FOR THOSE T-HANGARS. MR. BICKEL,
MYSELF AND OTHERS WOULD HAVE LIKED TO HAVE SEEN A LARGE HANGAR , BIG ENOUGH TO HOUSE CORP.
AIRCRAFT. OH WELL, THIS IS THE MCKEAN COUNTY WAY.
AS FOR YOUR RESIGNATION FROM THE AUTHORITY, I THINK IT WAS A
GOOD MOVE. MY HOPE IS THAT THEY DON'T REPLACE YOU WITH ANOTHER COMMISSIONER OR SOMEONE IN
THE AREA WHO'S INTERESTS ARE SELF- SERVING.
RAY LEWIS
BRADFORD,PA.
Publisher's Comment: Thanks for writing. You and I generally never agreed on
anything while I was in office and on the Authority. Evidently we agree on Mr. Kessel.
Beyond that, not much.
Yes, I voted for the new T-hanger. We were promised the five year leases and it seemed
at the time the best way to pay for it. And yes, we were lied to and misled. Your
"Community Hanger" was only an idea, and had no backing or plan to pay for it.
And it was much, much more expensive. Forget the corporate idea all of you talk about. No
self respecting corporation is going to move here. Taxes, taxes, taxes will always be the
draw back and you are dreaming. The best idea at the time was the way we went.
As far as your "self-serving" comment about me, you are full of crap.
Had you taken the time to listen to me, I was anything but self-serving. I wanted the
other counties to pay up and take the burden off the people of McKean County. I had no
support anywhere on the board. Instead I was painted as the bad guy. And a free trade zone
was not self-serving. Had you any foresight you would have backed the idea and then your
corporate hanger idea would have had some credibility. But you didn't. Just like the air
shows we don't have but always talk about, you are a lot of air in the wind.
Al Pingie, I am told will serve out my term on the board. Your self-serving comment
would be better aimed at him, someone endorsed by the rich boys and especially Mr. Kessel.
Birds of a feather.
Enough of stupid people. For no reason I got this:
BUD, keep up the good work!
Thank you. I don't know what I have done, but thank you.
And like I said, put in a picture of a baby and you get this.
Dear Harold,
Sam is gorgeous. You can almost feel how soft those little cheeks are! What a
sweetie. You look very contented and relaxed. I can see the role of doting
grandfather agrees with you.
Yes it does. It is nice to have someone who always smiles at you and likes you. And
I am contented and relaxed. I am the happiest at any time in my life, also. I have so much
to be grateful for, one thing of which is your friendship and support. Thank you.
And there is always a jokester in the group:
Here's something to investigate. Might Hollywood Helen actually be Marjorie West?
The age would be about right, and it might explain Hollywood's on-going search for an
identity - not to mention her wanderings all over town. Searching for her parents,
perhaps?
In defense of Hollywood Helen, she is a nice lady. She does not talk about other people
like "Moose Butt" and she harms no one. She faithfully worked on my
campaign calling people on the phones. I will always be indebted to her. Sharyn says my
greatest fault is my loyalty. Maybe, but there is a lot to be said for loyalty. Mainly
because there is so little of it around.
Is it true that Marilyn Horne has already been invited to be the official ribbon-cutter at
the grand opening of the new Wal-Mart? Her operatic talents might not appeal to the
dentally-challenged job seekers there.. but her fat ass definitely would!
I wouldn't know Marilyn Horne if I tripped over her or her "fat ass." I
understand that "Moose Butt" is second on the short list, or is that the fat
list? And about "Moose Butt" we got this:
Bud, You had her all wrong, the rumor on the street about the fat lady is
way off from what you thought (ain't that ALWAYS the case!). What I heard about her, was
that she was a big fat "(deleted)" ..................do you have any better
words for (deleted)?..................oh well.....so anyway.......she is this big fat
(deleted)....and the only way she could get guys to sleep with her.......the ONLY
WAY........ was to give them each a copy of the MLR ! ..............That was the ONLY
thing on EARTH.......that would do it!...........So actually, the way I see it, you owe
her a great big apology. Next time YOU should get your facts straight.......(
well THIS is just a rumor ) ....before printing. On the bright side....you and the
MLR staff should feel HONORED.........that the only publication....HELL, THE ONLY
THING ON EARTH....that could make guys (500-600?) want to "sleep" with
a(deleted).........is the MLR!!!!
PS- From a "collectors" standpoint, this issue will be the most sought
after !
I do feel honored. And for Tom Clark and on one of his recent columns we received
this:
Tom, Ole Pal-O-Mine! We have never met but we do have a bit in common - love to
write - have to spew - and it's our right to write. You seem to have become quite
popular by saying exactly what is on your mind - it quite often mirrors the thoughts of
your readers, things they do not have the nerve to say themselves - not in public anyway.
Your latest article about the cops (black and white) caught on tape beating a black
suspect (guilty as hell, not really just a suspect), he did those things - shot a cop -
bit the crap out of another cop. The "PERP" deserves every bit of punishment the
law allows "after he is convicted" not during his arrest. There is no doubt in
my mind that this happens to whites too, but who comes to their defense? Nobody.
And that is because they are viewed as deserving of the treatment even by the likes
of me and you. But the sad fact is that the cops were wrong, they are trained (or
are supposed to be trained) to "ACT" not "REACT". We pay them to
uphold the law - enforce the law - not to punish upon arrest. enough said
Your comments are welcome at editor@mlrmag.com.
JULY 25, 2K
Good morning. It is 51.4 degrees at 6:09 A.M. I am still laughing. Everyone
wants to know who the "big butted woman" is. The e-mail is funny. Let me say
this about her. I saw her crossing Main Street the other day, and running into her would
be tantamount to running into a moose. I can only imagine the damage it would do to your
car.
And in the midst of all the e-mails and discussion over "Moose Butt," here is
a picture snapped last night. Then on to Tom Clark and his ramblings.
Who are those two good looking guys, anyway?
Prime Time In The City BY TOM CLARK
"Hey, Junior, ya better oughta put on yer Sunday go to meetin' clothes, them big
city TV fellers will be here any minute."
Yes, Bradford is buzzing after a TV crew from the Big Apple came last Friday to do a
feature on Slick, that loveable town mascot that symbolizes those messy stains in the
middle of everyone's driveway.
Bradford's mini-version of the Exxon Valdez will be featured on an upcoming telecast of
Comedy Central's The Daily Show, rightfully recognizing the oil spill icon as a member of
the Mascot Hall of Shame.
If you've never seen it, and most in Bradford haven't because, until recently, our
sorry cable provider didn't carry Comedy Central, The Daily Show goes to strange, out of
the way places such as Donkeysex, Nebraska, Cornhole, Iowa and Bradford, Pennsylvania, to
lampoon the town's own particular local quirks.
Slick, the environmental hazard mascot, is a perfect target. Even though Comedy Central
will cast our goofy little town in a bad light, I can see the prime time exposure opening
more doors to create a bond between Bradford and the television industry.
With all of the so-called reality shows and quiz shows mesmerizing millions of
Americans nightly in front of the tube, what better locale than Bradford to show the world
just how stupid and weird people can get?
I'm going to e-mail the network boys and propose some pilots that should become ratings
successes. Below are a few short synopses of my ideas.
"Who Wants To Be On Welfare?" - Screw the $1,000,000, what sane person
wouldn't jump at the chance to win welfare for life? Think about it, no bills or taxes,
anything you want is free, you never have to work again. You can roll out of bed at 11:00
a.m., sit in Veteran's Square and scratch yourself all afternoon, then hit the bars at
night.
The show would have progressively tougher questions leading up the Grand Prize, and all
of the questions could be about Bradford. Here are a few sample questions;
1) How many vacant storefronts are on Main Street?
2) Within 100 feet, what is the walking distance between South Center Street and Tops?
3) How many mutants can be seated comfortably in the gazebo at Veteran's Square?
4) Name the opera singer that Bradford is naming a street after?
5) Name 100 people who are more deserving of a street naming than some obscure opera
singer?
"Square Survivor" - take six normal working Bradfordians and have them live
in Veteran's Square for six weeks. A Porta-John would be set up and meals would be brought
in. The contestants are to have no contact with anyone other than the native mutants who
occupy the Square.
At the end of each week, the mutants vote a contestant out of the Square. Without
showers, the contestants should start to smell like the native mutants by the second week.
The contestants are allowed to intermingle with the mutants but are not
allowed to have the mutants help them in any way.
"Big Bother" - All of the Bradford City Council members and department heads,
except Ed Sutherland (I couldn't do this to such a good guy), move into the Mayor's house,
which has been wired with 30 cameras and 60 microphones.
Imagine the fun of watching them bicker over the bathroom or Ray McMahon and Kathy
Doynow fighting over the last donut.
My money would be on George Pascarella and Tom Shay saying, "Screw this!",
within the first hour and moving out.
"ATA Live" - Witness the excitement of a live camera catching all of the
thrilling action of the ATA Blue Route. Marvel as you watch the driver pound down four
Double Whoppers and a large Diet Coke with one hand as she maneuvers the bus with the
other down East Main Street towards the Bradford Hotel.
There will be fun aplenty as the bus fills up at Emery Towers on Tuesdays for Ames'
Senior Citizen Day, and all of the mirth, mayhem and merriment will be caught live on
tape.
"Scavenger Hunt" - Contestants scour the Bradford landscape in search of rare
items that can lead to big prizes. Some of the hunted treasures could be a pure water
sample from Tuna Creek, a reasonably priced item from a store on Main Street or a South
Center Street resident with dignity and self-respect.
If these shows are hits, we could attract some of the established productions to film
on location here.
"COPS in Bradford" - Watch as our fearless finest catch a mutant peeing on
Warner-Burgess' front step, or the "in your face" drama of a Tops parking lot
fender bender.
"B-Town Law" - A fugitive from L.A. ends up in Bradford, signs up for welfare
and moves on to Kiwanis Court. The original show's law firm tries to convince the fugitive
to give up his plush welfare life and go back to L.A. to face embezzlement charges.
Meanwhile, the lawyers hit a stone wall when Bradford's District Justice Chris Hauser
refuses to take their calls at the Bradford Club.
"Mutant Beachwatch" - Skanky, unwed teenage mothers don bikinis to safeguard
Bradford's famous water park. David Hasselhoff's part could be played by Tom Riel (he has
the hair for it).
If you have any other suggestions for TV shows to be filmed in Bradford, or want me to
put in a good word with the network executives for you, e-mail me at tcclark@2-cool.com. . 'Til ex week...
Oh my! Oh my! And me with my own film production company, too. Laughing out
loud. Comments are welcome at
editor@mlrmag.com.
JULY 24, 2K
Laughing out loud
Good morning. It is 51.1 degrees at 6:01 A.M.
We are beginning the last full week of July. Once August is here, we are looking
at football season and then the snows of winter soon after that. It is time to finish all
those ambitious jobs we planned in the spring. For me, it is time to finally start them.
This is one of the most popular issues of The Mountain Laurel Review we have
ever put out. Mainly because of the story about finding Marjorie West. It is also popular
in Bradford due to Tom Clark and I poking fun at the Wal-Mart issue and County
Commissioner Jim Weaver. And, it has been very popular with one particular old lady.
She has been described as someone who has an exceptionally large butt, gray hair,
glasses. This woman evidently believes she knows more than anyone else, especially Tom and
me. She is collecting magazines in large amounts. In fact at the Bolivar Drive Unimart she
collected about a hundred of them and she has been seen collecting them at the Mall, too.
Maybe we have missed something. Has Foster Township finally enacted their censorship
ordinance?
What do you think abut that John? After you took the time to make up such a great ad
for your guitars, she is trying to keep the word from the people. And that goes for the
guys who are running the Toys for Tots dice run as a fund raiser. We donated two pages to
promote the event and now she is trying to suppress that along with the columns Tom and I
wrote that she doesn't like. Maybe I could write about her and Jack next. Do I dare? That
might be like writing about her husband with a certain lady named Hollywood.
But surprisingly enough, the printed issue is very popular in Chautauqua County up in
New York. Sharyn and I were at the Italian Fisherman yesterday afternoon listening to
their Sunday "Dixie on the Deck" and sipping margaritas when we saw several
people carrying issues of the magazine with them. The same was true over at Chautauqua
Mall when we popped in to pick up some DVD's and a new ink jet cartridge for my printer.
Several dozen people had copies of The Mountain Laurel Review.
And on our way out of Chautauqua Mall just as it was closing, we went into a shoe store
and found of all things BUSTER BROWN SHOES!!!!!!!!
Buster Brown Shoes have always been special with me, not because I wore them, but
because they were the sponsor of a Saturday morning show called "Andy's Gang."
Andy Devine was the host and Froggy the Gremlin was a character who wreaked havoc on
poor Andy. There was a weekly serial about some boy who tended elephants in India, but
most of all I remember the Buster Brown song that they used to promote the shoes. I still
sing it to Sam and he loves it.
I got shoes, you got shoes, Everybody's got to have shoes.
But there's only one kind of shoes for me.
Good ole Buster Brown Shoes!
And then a boy would come on and say: "Look for the picture of me and my dog,
Tide, inside every shoe!"
I never had a pair of Buster Brown shoes, but Sharyn and I bought a pair for Sam. And
low and behold! The picture of the boy and his dog was not in the shoe. Instead the
picture was on the box. I was crushed.
When I thought about it I figured that the EPA or the FDA or the CIA, or even the FBI
banned the picture in the shoe as a danger because the ink probably wore off on the heels
of the kids wearing the shoes. Or maybe the boy grew up and was labeled a subversive or
something like that. Who can say?
But as I pondered the dilemma of no picture in the shoe, the other real dilemma came
home to roost with me. I thought about what Sharyn and I had just done. Seventy dollars on
ink jet cartridges. Ninety-five on DVD's. And twenty on shoes. NONE OF WHICH I COULD HAVE
PURCHASED IN BRADFORD! And for entertainment, Sunday entertainment like "Dixie on the
Deck," that was totally non-existent. And then we have those who are supposed to be
representing the people, all the people, claiming they are private citizens and opposing a
Wal-Mart coming to town.
Jamestown has a Wal-Mart, a Mall that has just been re-done, a Red Lobster, and boo koo
other places in which to shop and enjoy yourself. We had a Swap Meet and a grand old time
for one weekend. Now we wait for another two years.
Something is wrong. Something is really wrong and it starts with the woman with the big
rear end picking up the magazines. Her of all people! The difference was all so very
clear. Even when we stopped into Warren at the Moose, the magazines were in the hands of
people who were reading them at the bar. But as we drove home I had to laugh. I laughed
out loud because the real joke was on the big butted woman. Maybe she got 500 or even 600
of them. We printed 25,000. The joke is on her because people across four counties in two
states were reading what she didn't like.
Oh well.
Comments are welcome at editor@mlrmag.com.
JULY 22 & 23, 2K
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