Richard Crowson

For years hereabout we’ve dealt with drought

And gone without much water, cool water.

Through it all, old Wichita, without rainfall

Did cry for water, cool, clear water.

Raise the water rate, higher bills are just our fate

‘Cause we’re living in a state without water

Cool water

But, wait, can it be?

What’s that cloud up there I see?

Now it’s raining down on me, such water!

Cool water

The rains did fall, Mother Nature heard our call

And she flooded Wichita with water, cool water.

My friend Dusty Rhodes knew what was important in life.

I guess you don’t spend days clinging to a flotation net in 4,000 fathoms of shark infested waters, watching your friends slowly lose their minds, without gaining some degree of insight into what matters and what doesn’t.

Whenever I get commentator’s block and have difficulty coming up with a topic for these little radio moments of mine, I consult with my think tank. I have a pretty small think tank. It consists of just Hank and Lucy. And, to tell the truth, there are occasional communication difficulties due to the fact that Hank and Lucy are dogs, Airedales to be exact, and I am not.

Hey, the referees are back! Which is a mighty big deal in some circles.  Personally, I’m more of a baseball fan. Football – not so much.

I don’t even understand how they can call that weird oblong object with shoelaces on it a “ball.” Aren’t balls round? Shouldn’t footballs be called blimps? Why didn’t they call the game “footblimp” instead of pretending they actually play it with a ball?

My fellow Americans, our nation is on the verge of an historic decision. In a very short time a great honor will be bestowed on one of the candidates. Either a candidate who has been tested and proven a winner in the past will be chosen, or a candidate who is new will be deemed victorious.

No, no, no. I’m not talking about that election business between the President and Mr. Romney. Their conventions are over and done with.

Labor Day! Was there ever a more anachronistic holiday in this era when those nasty, horrible, pinko unions are blamed for everything from that bruise you got when you tripped in your driveway to Hurricane Isaac which those devious labor unions whipped up just to upstage the Republican National Convention?

And to think that we have a national holiday that was begun by union members and sanctioned by the Congress and President Grover Cleveland in 1894 after the Pullman Strike to celebrate American labor! Oh, the shame.