Milo Yield: Laugh Tracks in the Dust
September 6, 2011
What a week! It started out fine with a long-weekend trip to Miami, Okla., and Rogers, Ark., and Grand Lake O’ The Cherokees. The first part wuz fun. We went to our friends’ 50th anniversary celebration, went to an Arkansas Naturals AA baseball game, played cow pasture pool, and toured the Pensacola Dam, which impounds the water in Grand Lake and generates electricity for Oklahomans and folks in adjoining states.
But, then things turned south. I came up with a case of Montezuma’s Revenge. When I managed to get home, the temperature wuz 105, most of the garden wuz burnt up, I had a “really” dead chicken in the henhouse, the east coast suffered an earthquake, the stock market crashed a couple hundred points, and now, as I’m writing this column, Hurricane Irene is going to hammer much of the same states as suffered the earthquake.
I bought a half dozen camouflage handkerchiefs. My reason? I’m tired of folks seeing how much I sweat during these 100 degree days.
Then I heard the latest news on the reason behind that east coast earthquake. Earthquake scientists have just confirmed that the earthquake occurred on a rare and obscure fault-line that starts in northern Virginia and runs up to Washington, D.C. They named it “Bush’s Fault.”
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I saw on TV that the government has recently issued new regulations on how to provide safe, secure and politically-correct housing for goat herders. I’m not kidding (no pun intended). To make sure it wuzn’t a joke, I googled goat herding on the internet and here’s what I found in an online news release:
Our government is setting new workplace regulations to assist foreign workers who fill goat herding positions in the U.S., including employee-paid cell phones and comfy beds.
These new special procedures issued by the Labor Department must be followed by employers who want to hire temporary agricultural foreign workers to perform sheep herding or goat herding activities. It describes strict rules for sleeping quarters, lighting, food storage, bathing, laundry, cooking and new rules for the counters where food is prepared.
The new lighting standards say that in areas where it is not feasible to provide electrical service such as tents or mobile trailers, lanterns must be provided. Kerosene wick lights meet the definition of lantern.
Wall surfaces next to all food preparation and cooking areas shall be of nonabsorbent, easy-to-clean material. Wall surfaces next to cooking areas shall be of fire-resistant material.
Who knew we needed all of this federal help for herding goats?
I guess it’s to be expected. After all, our government wants the incandescent light bulb to go extinct. Next will probably be regulated toilet paper.
I’m sort of a chicken farmer, so another chicken farmer from southwest Missouri sent me this story. I doubt it’s true, but hope it is.
Our grandson started school and his teacher asked what his favorite animal was, and he answered, “Fried chicken.”
The teacher didn’t think his answer was funny, but he says everyone else in the class laughed. His parents told him to always be truthful and honest, and he is.
The next day, the teacher said she loved all animals (I’d guess a PETA member), then asked my grandson what live animal he loved the best. He answered that he loved all animals, too, but especially chicken, pork, beef and lamb, because they provide fried chicken, ham, hamburger and lamb chops.
The third day, my grandson’s teacher asked him to tell the class what famous person he admired most. He told her, “Colonel Sanders.”
While I’m on the subject of animals and their connections to humans, I’m reminded that the English language has some wonderfully anthropomorphic collective nouns for groups of animals.
There is a Pride of lions, a Murder of crows, a School of fish and a Parliament of owls.
Now consider the baboon – loudest, most dangerous and viciously aggressive of all primates. It is ironic and so appropriate that the proper collective noun for a group of baboons is a Congress.
My closer for this week is this: God’s policy toward humanity is abundance, and yet not even wild berries feed us until someone picks them.
Have a good ‘un.