Country of origin

There's going to be a new farm bill this year, and there's little doubt it will be as ridiculous as the old farm bill. Meanwhile, most city folks and suburbanites will remain blissfully oblivious to the whole thing. The only farm debate they've ever heard of was between Eddy Albert and Eva Gabor. But since Kansas gets the same number of senators as California, there's pious blather about preserving America's farms, and helping farm families to stay on them. Never a word about America's steel mill families, but they get all Gene Debs when it comes to their own acreage.

Down to their level

Oscar Peterson, Joe Pass, and Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen (NHOP) were on the radio last night. And they sounded like crap because this recording was from the mid-70s, the Golden Age of Crappy Audio (GACA). The technology was fine; the producer and engineer were idiots. The combination of close micing, gratuitous equalization, and unlimited limiting made all three instruments sound like they'd been pushed through a single nostril. No big Jewish nostril either - one of those stingy little hotel-heiress ones. And of course, dynamics were far too important to be trusted to mere musicians... Edison cylinders sounded better.

these things snowball

They found 90 thousand bucks in Bill Jefferson's freezer. That's slightly less than Bob Byrd's maid normally finds between the sofa cushions. A 90 grand tip would be an insult to Dubya after giving some Halliburton exec's wingtips one of his forked-tongue shoeshines. All Congressmen are traditionally assumed to be utterly corruptible, so why go after the gentleman from Louisiana? Let's just say the reason starts with "n" and rhymes with “we grow.” While I have yet to peruse the entire 16-count indictment against “Dollar Bill” Jefferson, I'm pretty sure I'll find the word uppity in there somewhere.

For extinguished service

Normally I'm the least likely to be flinging superlatives around, but I just went to the best retirement party ever. Why? I think it was because not a single person from the retiree's job was there. Most guys, you make it to retirement all wrinkled and wizened, and you get a gold watch and a mealy-mouthed speech from some front-office putz who never noticed anything you did. Not this time. This was more hello than goodbye. Now when my time comes, I figure I'll combine my retirement shindig with my wake. You're invited. Bring flowers and a bottle.