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Reading an old Time report (in a waiting room, they need to update their reading material!) that Mexican drug traffickers are using American national parks and forests for marijuana plantations. Reading the piece shed light on a mystery that has intrigued me since 1994.

On November 2 of that year, my wife, Cathy, and I drove from Montgomery, Alabama to the Sipsey Wilderness, a part of Bankhead National Forest in northwestern Alabama. Sipsey being large (25,000 plus acres), in the middle of nowhere, and it being a Wednesday, we didn’t expect to see anyone.

A fox had a revolt of conscience and swore off chickens. He climbed onto a stump and preached:

“Fellow foxes, examine your hearts! To fatten our bellies, we do violence to helpless, innocent creatures and incur the wrath of the farmers. Oughtn’t we rather to live at peace with all? My friends, I implore you, love the chickens! Escape the snares of unrighteousness! Set yourselves free!”

The foxes were divided. Many hated the fox, for they knew he was right but did not wish to change. But some believed in him.

The believers began to fast. As time wore on, the band grew skinnier and skinnier, and some began to doubt. The fox heard their whispers and seethed. From his stump he railed:

Recently, I rearranged my bedroom. I get restless. Things get moved. But, I didn’t like how sluggish I was getting up in the mornings, so I moved my radio alarm clock to a dresser away from my bed. I can still get on my knees and lean forwards to hit the snooze, but, by then I’m out from underneath the covers.

The radio channel the alarm is set to used to be the local NPR station but now is some channel further up the dial that play an interesting mix of older and new rock/pop. Sometimes there is a pretty good song on when roused from my slumber. I remember waking up to Blister in the Sun a few weeks ago. That was kind of a fun way to start the day.

Walking home from work today, I saw three people greeting each other. Two women were on the street and a man was getting out of a car. Right before one of the women hugged the man, she said in a voice loud enough for me to hear across the street “Happy New Year!”

Presumably, this is the first time she has seen him this year, but shouldn’t there be a statute of limitations on this sort of thing?

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This morning, I have a breakfast meeting at a place called Big Ed’s. One article on the web has this quote from Ed:

No big surprise that Big Ed has had his arteries unclogged several times.

My cardiologist says, ‘You stop ‘em up, I clean ‘em out,’ ” he said, before hollering for the waitress to bring over more biscuits.

I wonder what is the proper etiquette for ordering at this place (which is a meeting place of the movers and shakers in Raleigh). Eggs or pancakes? Country ham or sausage? I do not think I will be ordering an omelet bur you can bet biscuits will be consumed by the score.

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