With the Velvet Hill in the Small of My Back

Thirty-four years ago today, to mark the opening of the United Nations' opening session, usually punctuated say cynics and NYPD by triple and quadruple parked stretch limos with dark tinted windows and DPL New York license plates, the UN declared September 21 to be The International Day of Peace.

I imagine for the hundreds of thousands of refugees fleeing rabid intolerance in the name of religion across the Middle East, seeking to join the other hundreds of thousands who have already fled the wild-eyed murdering marauders, such a day might be good for an additional handful of millet masquerading as a meal or an hour under a roof reducing exposure to the savagery and harshness of elements we developed civilization to protect us from.

To prove everyone wants a piece of peace, The Port Authority of New York and New Jersey is offering a free small soft drink at the Vince Lombardi rest stop, at Exit 16 on the Jersey Turnpike, to those reluctant seasick Sailors who survived their Mediterranean passage, unless, of course, they didn't. Sorry, no rainchecks or refunds.

I don't know what your wardrobe calls for today, but I'd suggest cargo pants so you have big enough pockets to put all that freedom in just in case you were to wind up somewhere that, for some odd reason, doesn't seem to be quite as free as one would desire.

According to some reports, we may have been thisclose to chowing down on a McWhopper to help celebrate the festivities, but hold the pickles, hold the lettuce, it takes more than two hands to grasp an opportunity like that I guess and far too often we run out of napkins as well as plates in Life in the Foodchain.
-bill kenny