A 'fair' question of politics

By Al Batt | Austin Daily Herald

Published Tuesday, August 5, 2008

ECHOES FROM THE LOAFERS’ CLUB

“For years, I have been waging a war against potato bugs. I’ve lost every battle, but I’ve finally found a way to defeat them.”

“How?”

“I’ve stopped raising potatoes.”

DRIVING BY THE BRUCES

I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: A watched pot never boils unless you’ve turned the stove on.

A FEATHERED NEST

Carol Hagen called me one day. She told me to stop by, she had something she wanted to give me. It was a turkey feather that she had painted loons on. It was an amazing piece of art.

Carol died not long ago. After the funeral, my wife talked to one of Carol’s daughters. My wife mentioned the feather. Carol’s daughter replied that one of Carol’s granddaughter’s would treasure such a thing. There hadn’t been enough of the painted feathers to go around.

My wife packaged the painted feather and sent it to Carol’s daughter to pass along.

That feather meant a lot to me.

It will mean even more to Carol’s granddaughter.

FAIRS

I tell stories at many fairs. It’s an enjoyable job and I get to see entire menus on a stick.

At one fair, a young boy came up and asked me, “Who would win in a fight, Barack Obama or John McCain?”

It was an interesting question. I remembered playing a similar question game when I was his age.

“Who would win in a fight, Superman or Batman? Who would win in a fight, Godzilla or King Kong? Who would win in a fight, the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny?”

I told the young fellow that his was a great question and that whoever had the best tag team partner would win.

HICCOUGHS

A man in a fair audience had the hiccoughs.

I tried to cure him. I told him I was going to speak for four hours in the hopes that declaration would frighten his hiccoughs away.

There are many purported cures. Drink water from opposite side of glass. Drink water through a piece of cloth. Put piece of white paper on your stomach. Think of the next hiccough and it will never come. Eat two tablespoons of peanut butter. Drink water while standing on your head. Touch elbows together behind your back. Point index fingers at each other while holding them as close as possible without touching for two minutes. Stare at a penny and try to hiccup. Say “Hector Heecup Hiccup Teacup” three times. Hold your breath three times — counting slowly to 15 each time. Put a penny in your navel and hold it there for a minute. Think of three bald men.

FROM THOSE THRILLING DAYS OF YESTERYEAR

They were gallstones kept in a small bottle.

If you’ve checked the used gallstone market recently, you know they’re not worth much. I wish my family would have saved something other than gallstones.

Back in the day when the only tanning parlor I knew of was a hayrack, we spent much of our time preparing for the change of seasons. What we should have been doing was to have been building large implement sheds to store everything we ever owned. Who knew that all that worthless junk would become valuable antiques one day?

NATURE NOTES

The good folks at the Raptor Center at the University of Minnesota tell me that a single red-tailed hawk could eat as many as 2,000 mice in a year. A pair of mice, if all their progeny survived, could lead to a million mice in a single year.

The barn swallow, hardly large enough to swallow a barn, builds durable nests of mud. It may take this avian architect 500 trips to build a nest one mud ball at a time. For centuries, the disappearance of swallows in the fall was explained by the belief that they spent the winter buried in the mud at the bottom of rivers and lakes. Some believed a barn would never be hit by lightning as long as it housed a barn swallow.

FROM THE MAILBOX

Deb Weitzel writes, “Re: Funeral potatoes — The little round breads with Cheese Whiz-ham salad-egg salad-whatever may be the topping-we call that Dead Bread because the only time most people have them is at funerals.”

TALKING TO THE HOLSTEIN

I was talking to the Holstein the other day. The Holstein is a retired milk cow, so she has time to talk. I mentioned doing some volunteer work and how much I appreciated those who began the work enthusiastically.

The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully and said, “If you’re going to be a flat tire, be a flat tire at the end of the road, not the beginning.”

MEETING ADJOURNED

Stones decay. Hurtful words last. Be kind.