I’m on message and I’m sick of it. The message never changes: I’m so, so busy. There’s no time for anything. I’m being swallowed whole by minutiae, ground up and spit out by economic uncertainty and thrown under the bus of staring at myself in the mirror to see if my hair is greyer. It would be one thing if I kept all this to myself, but no. Everyone who knows me is sick of it.
Well, spit spot, as Mary Poppins would say—although Eric’s preferred no-nonsense nanny is actually Marty Poppins, a former longshoreman—it’s time to snap out of it. I did this by wallowing in Craigslist, and what do you know, I found the distraction I was seeking. Going right to the Farm & Garden section, I window-shopped—Windows-shopped?—for pygmy goats and bale lifters. Two John Deere barstools were calling my name, and so was an antique scale from a cotton gin. Before I could seal any of these deals, a conspiracy broke out. Some outfit in Lubbock is trying to corner the wild hog market, in a very sneaky way. Only the most assiduous Craigslist reader would spot the maneuver. These pigsmen—let’s call them Hogs Unlimited—are offering:
1. Wild hog removal, at high hourly fees.
2. Guided wild hog hunting opportunities, at exorbitant daily fees, and
3. Wild hogs for sale, at ten bucks and up, depending on weight.
Is this a recession-proof industry, or what?
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What was that line in the movie about the dying car industry? RABBITS FOR SALE. FOR PETS OR FOOD.
First, I LOVE Mary Poppins and read all of her books when I was little. And I think you wallow beautifully, much better than me. You may not wallow longer than me, but deeper (there’s some kind of weird poetry in that). Hogs, I never would have though of it.
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