It’s just a week and a half from February, Black History Month. But the way things have been going lately, January should be called the “talk-in-code-to-racists” month. You know what I’m talking about, wink, wink. I’m talking about the “Food stamp president” and his wife, “Mrs. Yo-mama.” Wink, wink.
When disgraced former Speaker of the House, Newt Gingrich, railed against the President in a South Carolina speech recently, calling him “the food-stamp president,” everybody knew what he meant.
We are all feeling the sharp pain of the Boeing Company’s knife-in-the-back announcement on Wednesday. After more than 80 years of profiting from the sweat, skills and talent of Wichita’s citizens, Boeing is kissing us goodbye and punctuating their farewell by giving that knife a little extra twist against our spine. Just their way of saying, “Air Capitol, Schmair Capitol. I can’t believe you bought the line about my bringing 7,500 new jobs to Kansas with the tanker program. So long, chump.”
Christmas seems like a good time to reflect on all things warm and wonderful. In other words, on dogs. Proudly open about their feelings, dogs seem to have the sort of values and traits that sometimes put us unpredictable, ungrateful, back-stabbing human beings to shame. Dogs can be fiercely loyal, protective and attentive to our needs. And furthermore, they treat us as if we really do deserve this sort of behavior.
As this season of joy and peace falls upon the earth; as the winter snowflakes silently drift downward, ever downward toward the frosty ground; as Santa descends chimney after chimney, falling with his presents into millions of homes, it’s nice to think that there are a few things that are going up instead of down.
City Hall has a present For each Wichita peasant In the December chill They’re raising your bill Living in a water wonderland
One of the things I did not give thanks for yesterday before my family’s Thanksgiving meal was the Wichita City Council. Nor was I able to express gratitude for the pure and pristine waters of the Arkansas River.
Recently I had occasion to dust off and update my resume. As it usually does, the whole thing once more gave me a bad case of “the squirms.” As I sat there pumping up my accomplishments in an attempt to make myself sound like a cross between Dr. Jonas Salk and Donald Trump, I couldn’t help thinking about certain people who brag themselves into a state of sainthood practically 24/7.
Crickets chirping. That’s a favorite Internet phrase that’s usually meant to point out a pause or a lack of response to something that was said during an internet conversation. Like for instance if a commenter said: “Anyone out there sorry to see this splendid summer coming to an end?” Then no one responds and someone says, “Crickets chirping.”