I'm starting to wonder what the dinosaurs were thinking as they watched the meteor showers crashing into the earth and if it was anything like the way I felt yesterday in one of the aisles of our Big Y grocery store passing a seemingly normal and healthy young person (younger than either of our two children) who looked like he might have been on a high school wrestling team until our Governor out of an abundance of caution (and consulting with Alice Cooper, perhaps) canceled school for the rest of the year in Connecticut.
He had one of those gaiters that makes you look like Bazooka Joe's stunt double (I bought one that I've worn once because I have this giant head that makes putting it on feel like it's a tube top for my neck. One of my brothers also has a large head but his head is jam-packed with brains whereas my brain is so small it just rolls around inside my watermelon-sized head making a noise like a bee-bee in a boxcar). Anyway, Gaiter Guy has the thing up over his mouth but under his nose, testing that whole axiom about how it's the thought that counts. Especially when non-sentients are doing the thinking.
However, he pales in comparison to the advanced thinking that this sweet thing from Kentucky offered, confirming to my satisfaction that stupidity is as airborne as respiratory illnesses.
Which is why I prefer The Hollies' cover to Albert Hammond's original. And don't hold your breath waiting for me to change my mind
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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