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.
Lyrics here.�My Godmother, who was from Chattanooga and a transplant up�to Yankee-land, used to love to play the piano (banging chords - what they used to call "whorehouse pianny")�and sing this one with verve. I can hear her now. She was a piece of work, always with designer clothes and a big hat, and an accent that could melt butter.