Put This In Your Pipe: "Rep. Joe Wilson"

SPECIAL COMMENT
By Our Editor,
George Staphylococcus

Yesterday this blog took the bold step of insisting on the forgiveness of a Republican, Rep. Joe Wilson.

Some of our mail has not been kind. There have been a few articles written, taking us to task for breaching "progressive orthodoxy," whatever that is and whoever it is who decides it.

From those on the left, we have heard, questioning our progressive bonafides. And from those on the right, we have heard, questioning our sincerity, and insinuating that even if we were sincere, this Joe Wilson issue is a scandal best dealt with "in house," i.e., among his own brethren, and that they frankly resent any meddling from a progressive site.

Point taken. We remember how there have been serious infractions on our side as well -- John Kerry's "botched joke" being an enormous scandal -- and indeed those of the right sat silently on the sidelines, refusing to supplement an already inflamed situation with gasoline that one could add. It was for us to work it out on our own, having received their blessing for a successful resolution. All they were concerned for was how long it would take us to get back to the virtues of responsible civil dialogue, which subsequently we did after consultations with Sen. Kerry, his apologies, and a grateful nation's forgiveness.

The Bush administration -- of which we were not proponents on several points -- at least always had an abiding concern for civil dialogue. As we fondly recall, they insisted on it to the point of "bending over backwards" if it meant each side might get along better. It was something we all could appreciate. But now, without those guiding principles as much in evidence, it is of course more in the nature of things that there will be legitimate suspicions and lingering doubts about our sincerity.

To our critics -- left and right -- let us ask for your patience to explain. To the left, let us say, we believe "progressive orthodoxy" is a work in progress; no one group has a monopoly on our common cause. Searching, stretching, and testing the limits of discourse has to be part of our enterprise. We believe just as you do, but it just so happens that we also believe in forgiveness and second chances, whether for those of our own philosophy or those of the loyal opposition.

And to the right, let us say, you are naturally suspicious. If you could trust your fellow man, that is, if you thought your fellow man could do anything right, could make progress at anything, you'd probably be progressives, as the very word suggests. But since you're conservatives, right-wingers, you doubt, and the things you say to your fellow Americans are often taken as demeaning. Yet, insofar as our objections can get a fair reception in your mind, let us say that we indeed were sincere. We believe that Rep. Joe Wilson, as bad as what he did was, deserves a second chance. To us, that's what America is all about.

Our site will continue to reach across the aisle. We will continue to look for middle ground, not the middle finger. We will not give up, but we will strive with resolutions for what brings out the best in all of us. We will look for what is common to Americans, period. Backbiting has no place in our vision of America. But making a "more perfect union" out of us all ... is all.

That's what we have to say about Rep. Joe Wilson, who we fervently believe needs to be forgiven and granted once again the trust that is typically given to Congressmen. Yes, perhaps we should train the "Wilson Cam" on him for a few years. There's no harm in that. If it catches him again doing evil, then we will likely advise counsel for him and again seek to bring him back into the fold. But say it catches him doing good! Then we will have something to celebrate together, that one who was lost has been found. That one who had wandered has been restored.

Let each one of us always hope for the best in all things, and in each other.

Forgive Rep. Joe Wilson

The time has come to forgive Rep. Joe Wilson and welcome him back into America's graces. Showing mercy while keeping an eye out is our way.

His breach of decorum was flagrant, a violation of everything we stand for, vile and uncalled for. But Rep. Joe Wilson must not be hardened!

Unless we move immediately to restore Rep. Joe Wilson, while keeping an eye on him in the future, for his good, he may become discouraged.

So I fully support the Congress in addressing this issue, voting for full censure and deciding to monitor Rep. Joe Wilson with a Wilson Cam.

Keep Rep. Joe Wilson on camera for a couple years. Then if there are no outbursts, pull back and put the thing away. It's merciful and good.

If Rep. Joe Wilson is not softened up by the discipline (I think he will be), he'll be softened up by America's mercy and forgiveness.

In a couple years, I can easily envision it, Rep. Joe Wilson will be back in his seat, contributing in a positive way for the common good.

But it starts with knowing he did wrong, being a man and owning up to it, taking his punishment, then accepting the mercy and love we have.

The "Wilson Cam" will likely seem an unwelcome thing for Rep. Joe Wilson. But he'll come to see it as a positive thing, for accountability.

If Rep. Joe Wilson sits quietly, it's not hard to imagine that we'll forget all about the infractions. That's the way I am with my friends.

So, what I'm trying to say, we wish all of America's manifold blessings on Rep. Joe Wilson as he wrestles with his demons and emerges free.

The Wilson Cam

Rep. Joe Wilson, Republican from South Carolina, now so very well-known for his outrageous interruptions of President Obama, doesn't think he did anything wrong. So the Congress is debating whether to censure him for his most recent outburst.

His explosive, abusive character has come under fire in recent weeks especially. The taint of scandal has been never far from him, along with the smell of corruption. But he hangs on somehow and insists he did nothing worthy of punishment.

We are thinking that anything less than censure will not measurably slow him down. As he has been persistent in his avowals of innocence, it is our fear that he will continue to bare his teeth and lash out whenever the president makes appearances in Congress.

There's been talk of having a Wilson Cam on him the whole time, so that we can keep better track of his bluster. I think that's a good idea, as it would be helpful for security reasons in solving any unexplainable attacks, perhaps as they involve more than simply words.

At one time I felt the Congress and its members had the veneer of respectability. But in recent months, since President Obama's inauguration, with all the virulence of the right, that veneer has lost much of its shine. I would urge greater security whenever the Congress comes into contact with the president, so that he is protected in every way.

Rep. Joe Wilson has shown his true colors, which have not been those of a true American. He has demonstrated that wherever he goes, we need to keep our eyes open, our sensors on. If he's going to be present in Congress, the Wilson Cam is the way to go, at least at the start. Then if he continues to act up, we respond to it as it seems appropriate at the time.

But America is the land of second chances. Rep. Wilson has used up, in some sense, all of his chances. But America is also the land where we believe in mercy and bending over backwards to restore the wayward. It is our hope that Rep. Wilson will be willing to meet us halfway.

This is the land that gave him life. This is the land that gave him the opportunity to serve. Having said those things, he needs to respect our values and traditions and not bite the hand that feeds him.

What Rep. Joe Wilson has done in recent months is vile and despicable. There is no argument about that. I have heard none. Perhaps he does deserve being evicted and removed forthwith. But I still believe in what I said, what's in the essence of those values and traditions. I refuse to think that anyone is all bad, even this guy. I firmly believe there must be some good in him.

So, yes, go for the censure resolution. Yes, go for the Wilson Cam, for our protection and his. But finally go for forgiveness and restoration, first, last, and always. Show him we're bigger than he is, and that he will receive another chance, a chance to make things right in the future.

His heart may be hard now. But won't it have to soften up with America's hand of mercy?

Making Living Creatures Happy (Tweets)

If I were to make the slightest sign to my dog that I was willing to take her to the park, she wouldn't rest until we got there.

All I have to do, really, is look at her in a particularly interested way ... just that little sign would be a sign to her something was up.

In a few minutes it's going to happen. I'm going to do my part toward granting joy to the universe by blessing one little dog. It's cosmic!

Someday I'm thinking when she's on her deathbed, I'll say "Park" and she'll rouse bravely one last time, then finally fall back exhausted.

But that's sad to think about. It's never too early, though, in my opinion, to think of the blessings you can bring to other living things.

OK ... I'm just about ready to make my move. She's crashed out on the floor to my left. Sleeping, not soundly, but a superficial nap.

Do you wanna go to the park? Yea! Yea! Underbrush is very excited! Jumping, anxious, ready to go! Let's go! C'mon! Let's do it! Yes!

Can't Break 50 Followers (Tweets)

We have residual effects from past sickness. Similarly, residuals are the side effects of writing a popular song.

Can anyone get me an IV drip, preferably a couple hundred CC's of the elixir of life, since my life force seems to be ebbing...

My blog link is at the mercy of Twitterfeed. I should've set it to update more frequently. If I would've, it could've been here by now.

I can't break 50. Maybe I should've kept all the porn merchants. What do I care? They're warm bodies, apparently some of the warmest.

Anyway, most of you have cheesed me off. So in your honor I'm flipping you a slice of the cheese with holes in it. Do with it what you will.

For any and all dietary problems I recommend heavy doses of Tabasco sauce on everything. That's what I do. My stomach is like leather now.

Would've-Could've-Should've (Tweets Constituting Part 2 Adjunct)

I look back and see what I should've done. If I would've known how it was going to've turned out, I could've very easily've done it right.

It could've turned out so differently, and perhaps it would've if I should've done it as I should've done it.

But we all have our regrets. I'm forever thinking what I could've said, what I would've done, and how it should've turned out. Hindsight.

I should've just told myself. This is the way it's to be. And I could've stuck to that. If only I would've!

Hey, who are all the ones who quit following me? I'm going to quit sending out $50 1-800-FLOWERS gift certificates to you if this keeps up.

If I would've known how it was going to be, I would've kept my money. I could've spent it on something I would've enjoyed. I should've!

Note to self: These "would've-could've-should've" tweets don't constitute Part 3 but a sort of adjunct to Part 2.

Would've, Could've, Should've - Part 2

It's Part 2 of this beloved series, "Would've, Could've, Should've." Part 1 was back in March.

I should've reread Part 1 to see how this goes. Obviously I could've since I have the link. And I definitely would've if I should've even thought that I couldn't've come up with it otherwise. But if I would've, there's the possibility that it could've sounded pretty much the same. Then I would've said I should've just done it and seen what would've come out. It stands to reason if I could've come up with it in March, there's no reason I wouldn't've been able to've done it in September.

We age though and our abilities change. I'm tired today. And I'm thinking I should've taken a nap before starting. But who knows? It could've been I would've been much more refreshed, or, equally, it could've been I would've been even more fatigued. I've experienced both.

I had a doctor's appointment a couple months ago. I should've asked him a few things about being fatigued. I could've told him it happens when I'm getting to bed later than I should've, then I'm up earlier than I would've liked when the alarm goes off. (Of course the alarm could've been set later.) He no doubt would've told me there's your problem right there. If I could've been getting more rest, I probably should've been. And I would've been but I have all these projects I want to see accomplished.

But that doesn't mean I couldn't've asked the doctor for some ideas of how to perk myself up. I'm sure he would've told me to keep up my exercising. I should've already been doing them faithfully, and I would've, except I have been keeping a very busy schedule. I would've thought just going 100 mph with a dozen different projects would've been something of a substitute. It seems like it would've been true. and I could've at least've said it. As to what he would've said in reply, who knows?

He probably would've said there's no substitute for sustained physical exercise. And I would've nodded my head because I would've had to've agreed. Had it happened, I could've tried to've disagreed, obviously, but with a quick check of his doctor's book, he would've immediately proven me wrong. At which point, I would've said I should've just kept my big mouth shut.

Anyway, he might've said all that. Or it could've been he would've simply said, "Take a nap," and that would've been a hundred bucks for the advice, common sense that anyone should've known all along.

But I do what I can. Whatever my abilities. If it comes out good, fine. Usually I say it could've been better. And maybe it would've been better if I would've done X, Y, and Z. If it's too bad, then I always say I definitely should've. I always know I could've.

Public Restrooms Is Socialism

I hate public restrooms. In fact, the only time I'll use one is when I need to. Otherwise, I won't.

You never know what you're going to find in there. It's usually a filthy mess and I'd rather not touch anything. If I could float in, that'd be ideal. But if I could float, I'd just float up in a tall tree somewhere, go to the bathroom in midair and let it float away... The ideal world ...

But since I can't float, I walk in. The first thing I notice is if the door is one you push or pull. Because somehow I'm going to have to get out of there without touching it with my hand. If there's paper towels, it's more manageable. But if there's just a blower, it's a lot trickier.

Then I check for privacy. There's nothing more detestable than to have someone else in the bathroom with you. It inhibits me so much I may as well float right back out because nothing is going to happen. It's inconceivable to me that people have sex together in public bathrooms. I'm about to puke right now just thinking of it. I hate touching even the faucet, so believe me, I'm not touching anyone else.

If there's anyone in the world queasier about public restrooms than I, I would definitely like to meet that person. Because I frankly don't think it's possible. You would definitely need to pass a lie detector test before I'd believe you. And I would need to look deeply into your eyes -- deeply -- because I know you have to be lying.

These days, now, we have all these crazy people running around the country worrying about "socialism." They're nitwits, pure and simple, of course, in their politics, as stupid as can be. But I will agree with them, there's one "public option" that isn't that great. The public toilet. It's socialism!

We need "pot packs," like a backpack that folds out into a toilet. With some of those camping chemicals, that you pour in and it vaporizes everything it touches. Or some kind of crap-eating grass carp swimming in there. But since grass carp grow about five foot long, that's impractical. How about the crappie? It's a fish with a name for it. And "carp" is pretty close. More ideal world talk.

Getting back to the socialism issue. Unless we really, really need to go, we don't want the government furnishing public restrooms to every person who comes along. You never know, maybe an illegal immigrant will decide to go in and ... do his thing. That's our taxpayer dollars subsidizing illegal immigrants! If they're here illegally, let them hold it until they get back to their own country!

I heard a guy saying he read the Constitution and he couldn't find anything in it about the government being involved in health care. That's a great point! So I got out my Constitution, too, and I read the whole thing, including most of the amendments. And you'll be amazed at what I found ... or didn't find. There's not one word in the U.S. Constitution about public restrooms! Clearly, they're unconstitutional!

(There's one other thing about what the Constitution doesn't say, and being an honest person, I need to mention it. You've probably heard me tell about my two uncles I'm so proud of who served in the Air Force. Well, I might have to rethink that. Because I didn't see anything in the Constitution about the Air Force either. So, I hate to say this, but I think my two uncles may have been doing things against the law.)

From now on, friends, if you're a patriot ... if you love your country ... please join me in boycotting public restrooms. Public restrooms are just the government's way of softening us up, taking away our Americanism, and leading us toward socialism! What's next? They'll get us using public restrooms. Before long, even the roads will be public... Let's hope that day never comes.

So, if you want to use a public restroom, go to Russia, where you belong!

Mission Impossible -- Destroy The Rose Parade

I had this wild idea last night but I'm not going to do anything with it except just say it. It's that there's one guy who somehow becomes involved in destroying the Rose Parade.

The way this would happen is like the old story of how they make a suspension bridge, by taking a single string across the river, then pulling over a smaller piece of metal cable, then a bigger one, etc., until you have huge spans.

It starts off with a little thing. But then through the vast network of contractors and planners it takes to coordinate and do the Rose Parade, there's all these ripple effects. In the idea it starts with an email that comes in error to the guy involved. He's asked to sign off on some little detail of the Rose Parade, like contracting with a greenhouse somewhere for roses for one float.

Somehow he gets the idea that he holds the entire Rose Parade in his hands. And that with a few calls -- changing his voice and sounding official -- and a few emails, everything could be in place (or out of place) well enough that there are all these ripple effects.

When he screws up the order for flowers for that one float, it makes that crew and a crew at a different float start to panic. Then various crews are up in arms. Contractors are wondering what went wrong. Tempers flare, feelings are hurt, there's delays in shipments, etc.

Now, getting back to the original guy, he's not passive in all this. Because he has various numbers and email addresses that were in the body and headers of the first email. So he's calling around, ordering five times as many roses, let's say, and demanding their delivery in an unreasonable amount of time. But he's also postponing delivery from very trusted contractors for the Parade, maybe insinuating that they've been cheating the Parade all these years. With everything he says and does, he's completely enraging the contractors.

You can see where this all ends up. The float crews are in a total panic. They're busy contacting contractors on their own. Contracts are being breached, because they're also making independent calls to outside contractors, trying desperately to get their quota of roses. Now there's a complete meltdown in the industry. They've either stepped up rose production or slowed it down. Money is being lost either way.

Since there's all this brouhaha about the flowers, the builders of floats are delayed -- why build if you can't get the flowers? Of course that's against the builders' contracts, they think. So they protest. But there's some fine print they've overlooked, meaning they lose face when it's pointed out to them. Builders, though, are a proud bunch. So they walk off the job in spite of the fine print.

Now the Parade organizers have no choice but to bring in alternate builders, because they also don't want to lose face. The alternate builders throw up their hands when it soon becomes obvious the first builders burned all the blueprints and sabotaged the computers.

Around December 1, the first week of December, there's complete chaos in Pasadena. They know they can't make it. Roses have wilted, other flower workers have been laid off. The finances are ruined and people haven't been paid. It's a terrible, hideous mess.

January 1 rolls around and the Rose Parade struggles to put on a show. Farmers from the area bring in their tractors and hay wagons. They hastily find some guy from the parade line to be the Grand Marshall. They pick his wife to be the Parade Queen. And that's the parade.

Meanwhile, back home, wherever that guy lives, there's at least one person who's really enjoying the show!

Other Tweets (Some Took Hours To Write)

Why doesn't the author Randi Foxx have a Wikipedia page?

I'm curious how Randi Foxx's parents were prescient enough to give her that name.

I love this statement "Bob" made: "The Beatles are arguably one of the best selling musical groups of all time..."

There's a lot of reruns on Twitter. I'm seeing the same "inspiring" quotes over and over. Isn't anyone saying anything new these days?

~Rollin' in my sweet babies' arms, the whole barn may burn down before we turn around, rollin' in my sweet babies' arms.~

Does anyone think there's any psychological benefits in balancing a penny on top of your head? I'm doing it and I'm getting a slight buzz.

Johnny Fetlock and the Hooves

I did surgery on a cassette tape today. One cassette donors body was immediately rejected. Another was good, the tape transplant successful.

I had a Nancy Wilson cassette tape reel from 1969 (original) that needed to be transplanted into a new host cassette. It was a bloody mess.

But with white gloves and delicate instruments, handed to me by my dog, we made the switch and congratulated each other profusely.

Then I dubbed the Nancy Wilson tape with an MP3 recorder and uploaded a transfusion of it to my iPod. Another round of "Success, doctor!"

"Nothing can bring you peace but yourself" - Emerson. So true. [Fingers to the face] "Presto, chango!"

Tender memories of my mother's baking: "The Can of Mommy's Crisco."

This is an "if only" day. If only I had the whole day to sit here, I'd blow you away. If only. More likely I'd fall asleep & wake up tired.

How about the unlucky oyster, always stubbing his toe, saying the wrong things in company, getting in trouble at school? A string of perils.

I'm waiting for the Beatles boxed sets to get here. Grandma's still hoping for the Rudy Valli remasters.

My grandparents never liked long hair on boys. Grandpa used to gripe & groan about "Beatle haircuts." At least he knew SOMETHING about them.

I'm a crotchety old man & I don't like everything about this new generation. I think Twitter was a lot better back in the 60s, Facebook too.

My daily blog traffic goes like this: 2, 4, 3, 5, 2, 1, 6 .... day after day. But the other day, there was ONE day when it was 50. Strange!

Since I'm completely obsessive and paranoid, I can only assume I'm being watched by the government or one of my many imagined enemies.

Sometimes I think Nobody knows me, they can't track me down ... but then I start thinking They know me very well, it's all cat and mouse.

UPS, UPS me off.

George W. Bush was disgusting from Day One. But he was even more disgusting from Day Nine Eleven. Our first "9/11" without Bush! Hurray!

It's time to buckle down, folks. Don't let another day go by without putting it off till tomorrow!

Wilson affected his obituary seriously. SOMEDAY: Joe Wilson, 96, former congressman, best known for yelling at President Obama, died today.

I got an autographed LP by George Morgan tonight. He's famous for the song "Candy Kisses," also recorded by Tony Bennett. George died 1975.

What a lucky boy am I ... The vinyl has some bad anomalies, but every rose has its thorns ... Like the flaws in a Persian rug ... But still!

To look at me you wouldn't think I was a guy of such refinement.

Last Of The Grange Tweets

Dark, dense brooding ... then a field of light ... and back into the thicket. A sacred sword pointed is powerful, humbling the horses.

A day of adjusting, conjuring, bringing all energies to a head. My motivations being pure, I shall prevail. Tonight the zipper comes down!

Tonight the orgies will end and the true morality will prevail. Long live the town! Long live the country! I'm steaming mad at dirt.

I will boldly proclaim the work in which I am engaged. The key to everything is right here ... But first I have some normal errands to run.

Someone said I look like Hugh Hefner. Thanks for noticing. Sorry about the blue material, the sex, in my blog today.

Horse lovers, I'm sorry: "Blood was in a wild spray, horses were falling dead in a terrible arc all around the perimeter of the orgy field."

People tell me it's a natural drive, primal, something necessary for the perpetuation of the species, etc., but I simply don't believe them.

Am I going to say a mumbling word. I say I'm not.

Seth Biggs Was Such A Pious Man

Help, I'm in the unbreakable thrall of an earworm, the song "Put Me Amongst the Girls." This is a true statement.

I wrote a post the other day with that title, about my conquests at the last grange dance. And listened to the song a couple of times.

That's it! And ever since -- not 24/7 but still lots -- I've had this song in mind. I'll be doing anything, trying to read, sit in silence for my personal well-being, take the dog out, and I'm constantly going over it, "Seth Biggs was such a pious man..." I'm seriously more concerned with Seth Biggs' piety than my own! And Seth Biggs is probably nothing more than a fictional character. I'm sort of fictional, but at least I'm actual enough to be typing this.

The weird thing about this earworm is that I've heard plenty of other songs since then. Including some of the new Beatles' remasters, which are excellent so far. Plus I've listened to my iPod, a wide variety of other songs. And yet there it is, omnipresent in my thoughts, "Thomas Harry Jones came up to London town / He meant to be a member of the police force..."

Today I was seated in silence, reading something in peace and the thought suddenly occurred to me out of the blue that I wasn't thinking of the song "Put Me Amongst the Girls." Which of course meant that it returned. Especially the "Seth Biggs" line, he's "such a pious man."

Concerning "Thomas Harry Jones," you know he meant to be a member of the police force, and all that? The next line is so clever, and it's also part of this earworm: "His feet were regulation feet / Just the feet to ornament a beat." Very clever. But go over it in your mind 500 times! I can't get rid of this guy's feet! Or the other guy's piety.

Silence In Heaven For Half An Hour

Everyone needs a break. I'm thinking of this verse from Revelation 8:1 today, "And when he had opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour." Kind of reminds me of my hiatus -- when I took off a few months earlier this year. That was a great break.

I was reading Revelation earlier. You've got all the commotion of heaven, enough horses to make a respectable parade, angels, Gwen Stefani and the Lamb, and the old seer looking on. It's impressive, the orderliness, the holiness, then the systematic destruction of everything, all for a good purpose, to make all things new. (Small consolation to all the ones destroyed.)

Then, not too far into it, after the seven seals and just before the trumpets you get "silence in heaven about the space of half an hour." Like in the Herman's Hermits song, "There's a Kind of Hush." Time to be quiet. Quiet time. Nap time like in kindergarten. A breather. Sit a spell, take your shoes off.

It's an interesting thought. You might wonder why would heaven have silence for about half an hour? Why it's about a half an hour, I don't know. It could have something to do with the urgency of what's presented, with half an hour being a tiny bit of space, i.e., there's no delay. We're giving you a little respite, but not enough to get your hopes up, unless you're a martyr, then your hopes are for 15 minutes tops.

Why there's silence? Maybe because they're busy passing out seven trumpets and they're getting ready to blow them. What's more impressive than a trumpet suddenly blasting out of silence? If you had a lot of noise going on -- and a trumpet just piled on -- it wouldn't be distinct or have the same power. This gets your attention.

I'd like to have just silence and not a sudden trumpet. I prefer noises that come on rather than ones that are just there. On my phone, I have it set with the gentlest alarm it came with. And similarly, the noise that reminds me of an appointment. It eases into it, it doesn't just scare my pants off. Same thing with my dog, Underbrush. If something's going on, I prefer she starts out with some growling before the full bark, not just the full bark all at once. That is scary, more startling than scary.

It's tough to get silence -- I mean silence that's not quite as frightening as heaven's in Revelation. That's the kind of silence we don't want. The kind of stillness like right before a tornado, or if you were in the eye of a hurricane. But other silence is desirable sometimes, if only... We were out today doing the dog thing and some guy who has a noisy truck went by again. I think he and I have synchronized mornings. I said silence is desirable sometimes. That's true. But I'm also a white noise fan. I'd rather hear something going on.

That's all from Revelation today!

As John Lennon could've sung, "You say you want a revelation, well, you know, we all want to end the world."

I Really Look Old

I saw four or five pictures of me that someone took a couple weeks ago, pictures taken from various angles, not just head on.

I was stunned to see them. I'm not kidding. Stunned. I am really really an old man. This is something that doesn't happen to me very often. It really opened my eyes.

I think like the same kid I always was. And that's the way I think I look in my mind. Even when I look in the mirror, I don't precisely see an old man looking back.

But there I was. The pictures don't lie. I am ancient and I look it.

Long live the old timer!