JANUARY 15 - JANUARY 21, 2000
JANUARY 21, 2K
Bible Thumpers By Tom Clark
It's too bad that I had the flu on Tuesday night and missed the prayer
walk that the local religious zealots staged as a protest to the
proposed Club Bradford. Not that I would have joined them, but to let them know exactly
how I feel about their stance.
I lived in the Bible Belt for seven years and was constantly bombarded by these people
and their "Our Way Or Go To Hell" attitude. I was right in the middle of Jerry
Falwell country and saw how the so-called Moral Majority would stick their greedy noses
into everyone's business. What is lost in their ways is the methods of extortion they use
to suck bank accounts dry of little old ladies, instilling the fear of eternal damnation
into them if they didn't fork over their Social Security checks.
I always knew that we had the typical church hypocrites around this
area but, generally, they keep to themselves. I guess we should have,
literally, seen the writing on the wall a few years back when someone
thought a stain on a church wall was the second-coming of the Virgin
Mary.
Before I go any further, let me state that I am not an atheist, nor am
I down on people who practice religion. My feelings have always been that spirituality is
a personal thing and is fine, if you keep it to
yourself.
This is where the problem lies. These Holy Rollers can't be satisfied
with their own personal convictions. They feel that they must push
their beliefs on everyone else and that I'm dog crap if I don't go along
with their narrow-minded beliefs.
So, now the Bible Thumpers have found a cause, the proposed Club
Bradford. These Doomsday cheerleaders feel that the whole town is going to become a
community infested with sleaze and debauchery because of one strip club. Hey, folks, get a
life! You know what? It is absolutely none of your business if someone wants to open a
legal club and you can march your fat feet off from now until the end of time and it's not
going to do a damn bit of good.
It always starts with one person that wants to push the morals envelope. Then, like
ants to an open jelly jar, they come out of the
woodwork and try to make it a show of numbers.
I hate to be rational with these people, since common sense never comes into play with
religious extremists. But, isn't it a little stupid to
call upon the masses to have a prayer walk, in the middle of January,
during cold and flu season?
I guess the spiritual leaders of this evangelical cattle drive feel that if any
participants die of pneumonia, their souls were sacrificed in the name of a smut-free Main
Street. Halle-freakin'-luyah!
Tom Riel, the proposed owner of the club, has stated that it will not
have "nude girls" signs flashing on Main Street, and the entrance will
be in the back. From what I know, it sounds like the plans will be
tasteful and professional.
I hope that Riel gets to open his club, leaving one less vacant
storefront on Main Street. And, more so, I hope it sends a strong
message to the over-reactionary religious guerrillas that, although your convictions may
work for you, that everyone has a right to their own opinions and beliefs and should not
be forcefully subjected to others' views.
PUBLISHER'S NOTE: Thanks Tom. I find the real irony in this little
"walk" in several areas.
1. Downtown on Tuesday night was treated to more "family" activity.
In order to make the numbers look large, the supporters of the walk brought their
pre-school and elementary school children out in the near zero temperatures.
2. The ally they picked up in Susan Sykes, AKA Busty Hearts. The boys were busy
emptying beer cans so they could ask her to crush them with her breasts. And, she was more
than willing to pose for pictures with the police and anyone else who wanted one, for free
I might add, a far cry from what she charges in her club.
The laughs will continue to abound on this one for the months to come, Tom. The
hypocrites and phonies are not limited to the walkers, take a close look at the City
Council and the Mayor, herself. Wait till you hear what we will bring out soon.
But that is another day and another column.
Comments are welcome at rdhedbud@penn.com.
JANUARY 20, 2K
Trust
Good morning. The snow we were promised never really materialized into the giant
storm they said it would be. We had a dusting - and for us that is an additional inch or
two - hardly noticeable. Now, the guy on the Erie television station is saying we have a
solid week of snow ahead of us. I don't know. I was a weatherman. This guy smiles too
much. Weathermen by nature are not happy people. I wonder if you can trust a smiling
weatherman? Isn't that something like trusting someone who doesn't drink?
Then there is me.
I was criticized yesterday because of the picture I have at the top of this column.
"What's wrong with it?" I asked.
"You are smiling a wicked smile. You have a drink in your hand. And, it appears
you are giving the world the finger."
I laughed. "Yes," I agreed. "It does appear to be all of that."
"So change it," I was told.
"Actually," I said sheepishly (if I can be sheepish). "I kind of like
the picture. I kind of like it for all the reasons you said that you didn't like it. I
think it very appropriately shows me the way I am and the way I feel."
"Giving the world the finger!"
"No," I said. "I can't say how that happened. That wasn't planned. Joe
Warner took the picture one day at the Downbeat. I wasn't giving anyone the finger. I was
talking with my hand when he snapped it . It was a fluke that my finger was extended at
that moment in time and space. And when he put the picture up for me and I noticed that,
it seemed like an omen of sorts. Who am I to argue with omens? I left it alone."
"That doesn't bother you?"
"Well, no," I said.
"Don't you think that picture might not turn off people who otherwise would become
very loyal readers? Don't you want this column to be as popular as possible?"
"I don't worry about that," I said. "When I start fashioning columns to
get readership, then I will lose what I have. I write what I feel like writing. I write
about what I feel is significant. Ironically, what happens here in Dogpatch County,
Pennsylvania is pretty much what is happening to the rest of the world on a much larger
scale. It seems that the readers who have never been here and are some of our most loyal
readers see this as a way of reducing things to lowest terms and understanding what is
really happening."
"I don't understand that," I was told.
"Oh, I do," I said. "It makes perfect sense to me. We are small enough
that the corruption stands right out. Look at the way the people are told what to believe
in The Error. They made people believe that I was an active participant in the
Nude Club. My family and I have taken so much flack over it, now, I am seriously thinking
about jumping in and seeing the place becomes not only a reality, but an overwhelming
success."
"Why would you do that?"
"Why not?"
"It will take away from the good work you have done with your column. Don't you
want the same kind of readership that The Bradford Era has?"
I thought about that one. I waited a second or two before answering.
"No," I answered.
"But why?"
"Because," I answered. "I don't think I want to give up that many
readers every day."
Comments are welcome at rdhedbud@penn.com.
JANUARY 19, 2K
Watching the sunset
Good morning. It is in the teens. We are expecting a Low Pressure Area later today
and with it we will get more snow. We are under a winter storm warning. The deluge
is imminent!
Actually, I enjoy days like this. I like the bad weather. Being house bound isn't all
that bad, and can be an enjoyable experience if you do it right. All too often we don't
take the time to enjoy what we have right in front of ourselves. I realized that last
night.
Aunt Rose (95 years old) was getting antsy (pardon my pun on that one!) last night
after an afternoon of sitting and watching old movies. I got her up and we walked into the
dining room and turned two of the chairs around and we sat at the front window. I brought
along a bottle of B&B, the portable phone, and the two of us watched the sun go down.
It was a lovely evening!
Now Rose likes her B&B in the evening. She especially enjoyed it last night and
became very talkative - more than she usually is. She had been following the Nude Club
story in the paper as she enjoys reading my name. She was aware of the date.
"Today would have been my parents' ninety-ninth wedding anniversary," she
told me. "They were married in 1901 and I was born in 1905. My mother lost two babies
before I was born and one more after me and before your father was born." (That was
in 1912 only months before the Titanic sank.) Then, in the way that only Rose does, she
did another calculation and realized that tomorrow (today) was my mother's birthday.
"Can we call Sue, Harold?" she asked me. "Let's surprise her and wish
her an early Happy Birthday!"
I was finishing my second B&B and saw nothing wrong with a long distance phone call
to Ohio. Afterall, I was on the 5 cents a minute plan. So we made the call.
Rose insisted on greeting my mother. She said her piece and turned the phone over to
me.
"Tomorrow's my birthday," my mother admonished. "Not today!"
"I know," I said. "Rose wanted to wish you an early Happy
Birthday." We chatted a bit and then after we hung up, Rose recalled the many times
we have traveled to Norwalk and visited my mother and my brother, Bob.
"We had such a good time visiting with everyone," she said. She grew distant
as if she was thinking of something out of her past and I gave her a moment of space. Then
she came back.
"May we call Robert, too?" she asked.
Seeing how she was in such a chatty mood, who was I to deny her? And what was another
long distance call at the rate of 5 cents a minute?
"Sure," I said. And Rose took the phone as it began to ring.
"Hello Robert," she said as he answered the phone. Even though our parents
had always called us Bobby and Buddy, we were Robert and Harold to Rose. And it was a good
thing that Rose decided to call him, too.
Even though my baby brother is a big time businessman and a captain of industry, he has
a lousy memory for dates. Rose reminded him what today was, and, she probably saved him a
bit of a major problem with our mother.
As the conversation ended and I poured us our third small glass, the sun slipped over
the horizon to end the day. "How magnificent!" Rose exclaimed, mentioning the
sunset. "How wonderful to hear your fine mother's voice, too," she said. And
then she began reminiscing.
"Your parents were married in 1936 the year after Larry and I were married. Larry
and I never had children," she said. "Your parents wanted children of their own
and were so happy when you and your brother came along. The red hair runs in the Beck side
of the family," she told me. (My mother would dispute that one!) "My
mother's grandfather, August Heider, had red hair and a red beard like yours. He had a
painting hung in the National Museum of Art," she told me. "He was a famous
fresco painter. His work was in the great cathedrals of New York City. He was very
famous," she told me again.
And the sky changed colors as we chatted. The conversation kept coming back to my
mother.
"How lucky you and Robert are to have such a wonderful mamma," she said.
"She took such wonderful care of you two boys. She was just like my mamma. They loved
us so much. You are lucky to still have your mamma. My mamma is dead. She is in heaven
with my papa and Larry waiting for me."
I rubbed her head messing up her lovely silver hair. She giggled and kept talking about
the trees and the sky. As I listened to her I realized how true her words really were.
Having family is what life is really all about. Being County Commissioner, or a Nude Club
operator, or even a publisher of sorts really means nothing when it is all said and done.
"What a wonderful world in which we live!" I said aloud. And I meant it was
wonderful in the sense that Rose and I, family, were able to reach out and touch using the
phone, my mother and my brother. Our family - The Beck Family - was able to speak to and
be part of each other's life, if only for those moments. And as I finished the third and
final glass of B&B I was warmed by that thought.
I was warmed to know that I had a family that cared about one another. I was warmed to
know that Aunt Rose was with people who loved her and my mother was near my brother so she
was not alone. All the fancy titles and accolades will come and go and they are just what
they were meant to be - talk, talk, talk. In the end all you really have are those closest
to you and they are your family.
On your ................ah, 39th? birthday mom, thank you for giving me that feeling
about my family. All I can hope for is that you have a wonderful day today and wonderful
days for the rest of your life. And, I hope I have instilled in my children the same
feeling you have instilled in me. Happy Birthday, Your son, Buddy.
JANUARY 18, 2K
My morning laughs
Good morning. It is -3.4 degrees outside at 6 A.M.
Two great headlines are running in The Error today, but first we will go to
my mail. From Johnnie we received the following:
Bud- what the HELL
( I want so much to use the "F" word here! )?..... What the hell... is this guy
Morris talking about? Something about your (the MLR) page "lacking", and your
design and technology being poor? What the F * * * ?........there...I said it, (sorry).
Let's talk about the Bradford Era. First and
foremost I must say that I have not read ONE SINGLE article of theirs that did not contain
a spelling, grammar, composition, or punctuation mistake. More often they ( the Bradford
Era stories ) contain several such errors. One, from outside the area would think the
Bradford Era was written by fourth graders, except for the fact that fourth graders would
probably proof read before going to print. I feel that having a local daily newspaper that
is so poorly written is a shameful reflection on the community as a whole. Sometin' needs
fixed ! ....Or, (as a Bradford Era Reporter might say) .....and I
quote....."Tum..tin' neades fixx...edd !
Couldn't they just have some kid from the grade
school come over and proof read their stories every day......or show them how to use the
spell check?.....or perhaps if that technology is too advanced.....a dictionary? I know
that having a grade schooler proof reading your newspaper (the Bradford Era) would be
embarrassing..........but not as embarrassing as printing so MANY mistakes....... day....
after ... day.... after day!
Now let's talk about their web page (this is a true story). When I first went to their
web site I thought I was on the wrong page!..... It was so simple, so basic, so
unprofessional. "Where's the rest of it?" I thought. I kept looking and asking
for different addresses ( using different search engines).............WOW ! this was
really it! ( another fourth grade effort !) ........agh.....but alas..........this is it ,
...............I recognizes da spellin' !
PS- I am very sorry if I offended any fourth
graders. I did not mean to imply that they ( fourth graders ) are only as smart as the
reporters/editors at the Bradford Era.
Your point is well taken - just clean up the
language, otherwise they will start praying for you, too.
And from a lady in Florida (not Dawn Clark - and
I am not implying that Dawn is, or is not, a lady by that inference).
Hi Bud, Here is a copy of an email I sent to Mr. Morris. I didn't want
him to see that I also sent it to you so copied and pasted it for you.
I also sent one to the Buffalo State College, whose website he used to attack you. Carry
on!
Hi John,
I read your comment in the MRL. I have to tell you that I am so sorry
that you perceive the MRL as unworthy. You see, John, I lived in
Bradford for over 40 years and for over 40 years the Bradford Era
controlled and still controls the populace of Bradford. What they
print, fail to print, or erroneously print, is up to their whim and
fancy.
I watched them protect child molesting teachers (i.e. Bill Stowman) and tout his glory on
their front pages.
I watched them tell the citizens of Bradford and Foster Township that it was okay to drink
the asbestos-filled water.
I watched them encourage the slander of my own children when they
allowed Happy Day Ads to be placed from their father and the husband of the girl he dated,
even after complaining to them what the children were going through. (Don't worry, I got
rid of the bum years ago.)
I watched them protect Elmer Myers, Superintendent of Bradford Area Schools, who placed so
heavy a burden on the taxpayers that the town is in decline.
I watched the other County Commissioners deceive the people of Bradford and the Era
miraculously acclaims them and condemns Mr. Beck, who knew that the 43% increase was
coming all along.
I eventually moved away from this god-forsaken town and now enjoy
watching what is going on. I read the MRL and at least know that I am getting a sense of
what "IS" going on.
Perhaps you should read the Bradford On-line site if you really want
to know what is happening. The residents write that forum, not one
owner-editor of the newspaper who himself has had his own troubling past similar to our
own President Clinton, nor the ousted politician who tells it like it is.
What happened to freedom of the press? What happened to the public's right to know? Are
you a member of the Bradford elite who decides that you, too, have the answer?
John, my advice to you is to continue to read both sides of the issue
and decide which you want to believe. But leave your opinions to
yourself.
I have also written to the Buffalo State College personnel to tell them
what I think of your using an organization's web site to condemn others yourself. You are
just as guilty as both newspapers. Why not use your OWN private site?
So much for John Morris.....and others.
Then there is The Bradford Error ! My good buddie Jimmie Buck leads
off with:
"Prayer walk to oppose proposed nude club set for today."
It seems that a local minister, a good man, is going to lead a prayer
walk. A worthy endeavor, by all means! I applaud him!
He is quoted in The Error as saying: "This is definitely
a moral issue," Souder said. "From my point of view, it's a sin."
"Just because it's legal doesn't necessarily make it right. This is not right. It
will hurt the downtown financially."
"It's like opening a crack house on Main Street," said Souder, adding that
pornography can be just as addictive as drugs. "There's a ton of evidence out there
that pornography and things like this are not good for a city or for people who are
trapped in this addiction."
Interesting.
What is happening here? Could it be that Bradford is finally getting to look at
itself, not the way that it sees itself, but through the eyes of others? Is the threat of
this club a giant mirror that finally reflects a true self image?
Lest we forget! It was a man of the cloth who allegedly raped a local woman
only five or so years ago and had the whole matter brushed under the rug by the Court, the
DA, and The Error. There was no nude club on Main Street when that happened.
However, what did exist on and near to Main Street at that time were:
-Two local drinking establishments openly dealing cocaine and other illegal
drugs.
-Another bar illegally serving minors alcoholic beverages, many of them
Bradford Area High students.
-Black drug dealers in Veterans' Square enticing high school girls to try their
wares in exchange for sexual favors.
-A local news stand selling Hustler Magazine, along with others that offer
explicit and detailed nudity and sex.
And guess what Reverend! Not one thing has changed since that minister
allegedly raped that woman.
You can still buy cocaine. The city help finance expansion for one place named
in the infamous Drug Task Force Investigation.
That bar is still serving minors. It was busted before Thanksgiving and they
just got it again last Saturday night when a 19 year old, drunk to the point of falling
down, fell and busted his head open in the establishment.
And Hustler Magazine and worse are still for sale in that news stand, and
teenage boys can buy them.
I think you are praying for the wrong thing. While prayers are worthy and I
will take all I can get, you should focus on what you have at hand, not what might come.
And what else is at hand? The other story in The Error reads:
"Commissioners continue to answer questions about the budget."
My buddy, George, wrote that one. Ho Hum! Ho Hum! Ho Hum!
Your comments are welcome at rdhedbud@penn.com.
JANUARY 17, 2K
Is this the coldest day of the year?
It was -8 degrees at 2 A.M. It was -9 degrees at 3 A.M. Then it started
warming up. It was -4 at 4; -3 at 5; and -1 at 6 A.M. Right now it is in the plus
area, but not by much. It is 0.1 degrees above zero. How about that to all of you who live
in Arizona, Texas, and Florida! That is cold.
This is not unusual weather. No. For January, at this very time, we usually have
sub-zero temperatures. This is the norm for us. And we have snow. That is a plus. We need
it for our water levels next summer. The more snow this winter the better. And the snow
mobilers agree.
They were out in force this weekend. We began seeing our friends from Ohio and south of
Interstate 80 at the Rainbow Inn. I should correct that. I didn't. I was still down with
the flu.
It never seems to fail that when something like this hits me, and it doesn't do it
every year, it comes at a time of either an enormous snow storm, or a deep freeze like
this one. It is really my own fault. Las Vegas in January! What should I expect?
I have had a recent request which is acceptable to me. It was for a link. Even better
than a link, I will give you the information here in this column and then we will
establish the link later today
"As webmaster for the
BAHS
Class of 1969 online forum, I
seeking your OK to place a direct link to your online magazine. Currently, this forum has
over 200 registered participants. I am also requesting a link to the BAHS Class of 1969
home page too. The url is http://www.delphi.com/bahs69. Please feel free to contact me if you have
any questions."
I hope we are being of assistance for anyone who is
interested.
And, as a result of the libelous headline in Friday's
newspaper, I received the following e-mail.
Interesting. I found your website's URL in The Bradford Era, and
thought I would check it out. Sadly, I find that as deficient as The Era may be in
reporting the news objectively and accurately, the MLR is even worse. Perhaps it gives you
pleasure to personally insult people as a thinly veiled 'News' article, but frankly it
falls very flat. Not only is the content of your page lacking, but the design and
technology are as well.
Would I care if such an establishment opened in Bradford? Not at all. Would I
frequent such an establishment in Bradford. Not a chance if it were putting money in some
bitter, lack-luster, politician and journalist wanna-be like you.
Hoping you fail in all of your endeavors
-J. Morris
This is the kind of thing that the staff at The Era attempts
to provoke with their "slant" on the news. They bring horse's hind ends like
this guy out of the closet all ready to say their piece for free speech.
J. Morris is John D. Morris" johnm@bsc-cdhs.org. Send him an e-mail if you want.
John's spam is deserving of spam in its own right. Surprisingly enough, and contrary
to what The Era believes, this person is in the minority.
This was typical of what I received following the sensational and untrue headline.
Dear Bud,
I'm so sorry that you are caught up once again in a Bradford attack. They think that Joan
of Arc's exist all over the place and will just go away with enough burnings.
Please tell you wife to hold on. Anyone who can don a Santa suit can't be all that bad.
No matter what your involvement, and I don't make judgement, I feel the real issue here,
as always, has been who you are and what you want to do. You are a target as you can
clearly see.
Hang on, Sharyn, it ain't easy being green.
Sorry ladies. It didn't work this time either!
Referring to the empty store fronts on Main Street Bradford as a Historic District is
an insult to anyone with half a brain. To consider it a mecca for family activities is a
laugh. First Night is only one night. Where are the family activities when the black drug
dealers from Buffalo are in Veteran's Square peddling crack cocaine to our high school
girls for sexual favors?
The Zippo Swap Meet happens on a weekend every other year. The lunches on the square
compete with downtown merchants for the meager lunch time business that is available.
Family activity center it is not. It is a run down old town on the verge of becoming a
first rate slum. All the incubators and government run and financed businesses in the
world will not turn it around. Only people can turn it around. People who pay taxes. That
will never happen under the present set up.
What restaurant can open and afford to pay school taxes?
What woman's clothing store can compete with the attraction of Olean, Erie, and
Buffalo, not to mention the outlet malls only an hour or so away? Ask the Bradford Area
Alliance members where they shop. Better yet, ask the downtown merchants who still exist!
I will close with this little ditty from our staff bard.
Little Lost Puppy
Oh where, oh where has O'Mara gone?
Oh where, oh where can she be?
Out buying desks and new chairs to match.
She's on a big spending spree.
Oh where, oh where has our money gone?
Oh where, oh where has it went?
On brand new desks and new chairs to match.
Our money has all been spent.
Oh where, oh where have our children gone?
Oh where, the taxpayers gripe?
The desks are empty, the chairs all filled
With dust from asbestos pipe.
Oh where, oh where has our small town gone?
Oh where, oh where does it hide?
The stores all locked and the lights turned off
And no more taxpayer pride.
Oh where, oh where has our common sense gone?
Oh what, oh what can we do?
Paint up the desks and nail up the chairs
You see, it's all up to you.
Oh where, oh where has O'Mara gone?
Oh where, oh where can she be?
She's working hard with a nail in hand
To get that big salary.
Ghostwriter in the Sky
Comments are welcome at rdhedbud@penn.com.
JANUARY 16, 2K
It happened last Sunday in Warren, PA
The Raid
My little speakeasy was raided last Sunday. It had been in existence for 118 years. Its
home was an old frame house, hidden on one of the backstreets of our fair city, out of the
way and very inconspicuous.
It was only open on Sundays. It was limited to a maximum of 100 members. It evolved
from a group of men dating back to the post civil war era trying to get away from their
wives for a day. It was a place to go where, as the saying goes, everybody knows your
name. It was driven by volunteers and there was always food there of some type, free for
all who wanted it.
It was the most pleasant of places to be on any given Sunday. And
you could take your wife and only your wife if you were married. No
in-county guests were allowed unless you were single and then you could bring in your main
squeeze, provided that person was female. This organization was a responsible one to the
community as well, giving thousands of dollars to local charities over the years. It would
match up well to any fraternal organization in that regard. It sponsored a children's day
at a well known amusement park and a Santa's Christmas party.
It aided its members when the layoffs came and times were tough.
It was, by any measure, a good and decent organization.
But someone became upset and complained to the PLCB ( Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board) .
It could have been an irate spouse, unhappy with her husband. It could have been another
organization, unhappy with the PLCB and their new regulations pertaining to the small
games of chance.
You see, the small games of chance money is the goose that lays the golden egg. There's
no accounting for it. The clubs spend it any way they see fit. It's only supposed to be
spent for charity but what usually happens is that money is used to run the club; i.e.,
salaries, commissions, utilities, and subsidizing the bar prices.
The PLCB came in last year and put into place a new system by which it can determine
how much money is made from the tickets. This made a lot of club leaders very nervous and
angry because it made extra work for them and, more importantly, brought the issue out
into the sunlight. But since our little speakeasy didn't have a liquor license, it went
unscathed by these new regs. This upset some club people.
But then again, it could have been an irate spouse.
Sign me Sam Adams,
Tea Party Specialties.
JANUARY 15, 2K
The Duel (Eugene Field, forgive me)
The Bradford Era and The M.L. Review
Side by side had a terrible rue.
‘T was half-past January, and (what do you think!)
Not one nor t’ other had slept a wink!
The "whistleblower" and the "rumor mill"
Appeared to battle as they often will.
There was going to be a terrible spat.
(I wasn’t there: I simply thread,
What I saw in print in the columns I read)
The "rumor mill" went Bow-wow-wow
The "whistleblower" replied, Mee-ow!
The pages were littered, a week or more,
With residents eagerly keeping score,
While the "whistleblower" sat back in surprise
The "rumor mill" kept up its lies
For it always dreaded a lull in sales.
(Now mind: I’m only telling you
What the townsfolk know is really true)
The City Manager looked very blue,
And wailed, "Oh dear! What shall we do!"
The "rumor mill" spewed, the "’blower" defending
Said there’s only one way of ending,
"Take back your story, a mere retraction
For you are wrong, I demand some action."
And, oh! How the lies and truths did fly!
(Don’t fancy I exaggerate---
This outcome I can hardly wait.)
Next month, although the two had fought
The "rumor mill" the "’blower" bought
A beer, in what is now well known
As Club Bradford and the place has grown.
But the truth about these foes
Is the "secret" that one might expose
About the other, a scandal BIG!
(The grapevine twists to my rainbow
And that is how I came to know.)
Ghostwriter in the Sky.
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