Home, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard
An encouraging word
And the skies are still cloudy all day
(apologies to Roy Rogers)
Well, President Trump addressed the nation last night. The only surprise was that the networks decided to carry it. Somebody reminded them it’s not their place to determine whether the American people are permitted to hear the President’s words, whether they consider them to be “filled with lies” or not. Chuck and Nancy handed network execs a graceful resolution by demanding their own version of Net Neutrality via equal time.
The only thing I got out of their joint statement was a newfound respect for the limitations of professional makeup artists. And boy, if SFN has her face stretched any further her hairline is going to be behind the crown.
Perhaps it was because of my nightmarish trip across the mountains of Wyoming yesterday - including two separate closures en route that doubled the normal travel time for that leg of the trip - but the two of them, frozen in time together like that, reminded me of the pronghorn antelope that one sees along the entire 400 mile stretch of I-80 through Wyoming: herd animals roaming at will. They consider it all their God-given free range even if it’s owned by a rancher trying to eke out a living by grazing cattle there.
The Pronghorns have absolutely no use or respect for fences either.
Chuck and Nancy also share the Pronghorn’s vocalization patterns:
- Warning: snort-wheeze
- Male courtship: high-pitched whine
- Rutting male: roar
- Fawn: bleat
Prove me wrong.
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