Doc’s Cafe

Dan was going to pick me up at 7:00 AM but arrived at 6:45.  I was ready.  Coffee mug in hand.  We’d tentatively agreed to meet Lloyd J. to talk about some hay business, but that really wasn’t the reason.  We, like men of a certain age throughout America, and I suspect the rest of the world, were engaging in the timeless ritual of congregating in comfortable spots to sip the morning potion of our choosing, and convincing each other that we knew more than anyone else about the subjects of the day.  Weather, politics, the price of corn, the war in Iraq, the morning’s headlines….nothing too obscure or too important to ignore. This ritual plays itself out in...

Springtime: It’s Not All a Bed of Roses

In a previous posting (In the Springtime an Old Man’s Fancy Turns To…10 Mar 2007) I wrote a paean to the virtues of Spring.  The birds chirping and cavorting, flowers blossoming, trees abudding and that sort of thing.  But like every thing good, beautiful, and pure in life there is a dark side that we don’t like to recognize, or if we do, we wrap our thoughts in words like   “on the other hands” and “howevers”. There can be no denying that Spring has it’s own special baggage that we ordinarily do not discuss in polite company.  For example, June Bugs.  There I’ve said it.  My most recent encounter with these most distasteful of critters was yesterday...

A Night on the Town

One of the local mega law firms whose name shall not be disclosed herein, threw their annual bash the other night and pretty much went to the bottom of their client barrel by inviting S. and moi.  Our legal budget isn’t really that large any more.  I guess their theory is that their clients will continue to happily pay their annual retainers and stratospheric hourly rates by feeding us some mediocre food,  free booze and exposing us to a well-past-its -prime musical act.  Indeed, it seems to work pretty well because we and many others continue to show up year after year. S. and I go every year because….well, I really don’t know why we go.  But we...