Everytime I sit down to write this letter I always think about what I would be doing if I were outside. So I’m announcing a career change, I will now be a crocodile wrestler.

I hope everyone has found a way to expend a little energy and get dirty with the warm weather. I’m beginning to think even seemingly low-impact sports like tennis, jogging, baseball and even crocodile wrestling are too risky for the self-employed newspaperman. Video games might be more the speed for myself, and the millions of other uninsured Americans.

Drop HMOs. not bombs! I swear, federal government, if you give me insurance, I won’t get a nose job.

Maybe playing music is the answer to enjoying oneself outdoors. Happy Birthday to Benro, who will celebrate along with some bands jamming in his driveway June 3.

Everyone’s welcome to come out, but I suspect, as usual, everyone will be playing with their own groups.

It’s somewhat of an obstacle to many bands that everyone and their mother plays. How many times has someone invited you to a show and you had band practice. Or vice versa. The popultion is 90 percent musicians, 10 percent fans, it seems.

The solution, a band battle, not like the ongoing Rockstar event at Bluesboro, but to the death.

No, that wouldn’t solve anything. How about a battle that ends when one band is sufficiently mauled so they can never play music again, but are still healthy enough to be forced to become the other bands’ fans and servants until the end of time. I’m quite a problem solver.

As Memorial Day passes let’s all take a moment to remember its true meaning, memorializing all of the hot dogs that have gone on before.

Peace,

Bracken Mayo, Editor in Chief