Okay, okay. Maybe I’m going to the Cappuccino well a bit too often, but I’m a firm believer in simplicity: If the fastball’s working, then keeping right on throwing it. When the batters begin catching up to it, we’ll revert to Plan B (from outer space).
You may disagree, and if so, let me know about it. At NABC’s Fringe Fest, the feedback was universally positive. Then again, these thoughts and words came from people who are in on the joke.
I remain unrepentant. It always has been my desire to use this platform as a locally based homage to my essayist heroes and prime influences, including H.L. Mencken, with a sprinkling of Hunter S. Thompson here and there, and to a lesser albeit significant extent, early period Art Buchwald. As the photo here shows, inspiration for today’s column came from way out in left field: From aural gag to information processing sausage grinders in ten easy minutes.
You be the judge. I know that satire and parody are destined to elude those who aren’t “insiders,” but at the same time, it is my opinion that if done well, they can be revealing of universalities in a manner capable of being understood by anyone, much in the same fashion as an editorial cartoon. I will persist.
BAYLOR: Someone’s in the kitchen with Chloe
Seated at the table, fresh from another raggedly rag picker’s auction, Councilman Cappuccino busily sifted through the contents of a weathered Bud Light case. Much to Li’l Stevie’s chagrin, ice-cold cans of flavorless, low-calorie swill did not appear to be among the lucre.
Photo credit: www.allaboutjazz.com. For more on Spike Jones, read the late Cub Koda’s (yes, of Brownsville Station) wonderful biographical entry at allmusic.com, but really, you need to listen to the music. Always.
