We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
1958. The guy was a damn good crooner. When I look back on how kids dressed for a night out, or for college, through the early 60s, I realize that they aspired to adulthood. Now, everybody aspires to youth. Youth is wasted on the young.
Hey boys and girls. I just thought I'd drop a note to all you hormonally changing yots.
Now you can come over to my new style or stay with what you just witnessed. If you stay you'll be out-of-it in another six months. Come over to my side, tell the man to fuck off, and wear your garbagemans clothes and soon you too can be with "it"