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Hi Folks,
Well, a long offseason has come to a close and Cleft Crusty finds himself back on Packerrats trying to deliver the kind of derisive and inconsequential commentary you have come to expect and demand from a semi-retired columnist. I have to admit that I am lucky to be here. Let me tell you a story. After several summers of cycling around the nation on the back of my Harley, stopping to soak in the nostalgia at every set of historic high school football field bleachers, my wife finally put her foot down and said, enough! So Clefty had to plan a real vacation, and off we went to a Carribean island and the beaches. Now, Clefty hasn’t been in the sun, let alone at the beach, in several decades. There are mimes who are more tan looking than Crusty. So off I went with trepidation – and Plavix -in my heart. To Crusty’s shock, when he walked out of his private cabana and down to the beach, what did he discover? That’s right: his and hers matching antique claw-foot bathtubs! Crusty thought that was just a commercial icon fiction! Well, the wife was excited about the tubs and Crusty had to oblige. Problem is that Crusty had taken a little too much Tenex for high blood pressure, and nodded off in the tub! The wife was tired and also drifted off. Drifted off, indeed! While we were sleeping, the tide came in and when Crusty awoke, he found himself adrift in the ocean aboard a highly unseaworthy claw-foot tub. Fortunately, the wife had been rescued before Crusty so it was only a few hours before the coast guard cutter picked Crusty out of the ocean. It’s good to be alive – even if Crusty is burned red everywhere except his back and a small – er – region protected only by hands. That being said, I’m ready to answer all your 'burning' questions.
Well, a long offseason has come to a close and Cleft Crusty finds himself back on Packerrats trying to deliver the kind of derisive and inconsequential commentary you have come to expect and demand from a semi-retired columnist. I have to admit that I am lucky to be here. Let me tell you a story. After several summers of cycling around the nation on the back of my Harley, stopping to soak in the nostalgia at every set of historic high school football field bleachers, my wife finally put her foot down and said, enough! So Clefty had to plan a real vacation, and off we went to a Carribean island and the beaches. Now, Clefty hasn’t been in the sun, let alone at the beach, in several decades. There are mimes who are more tan looking than Crusty. So off I went with trepidation – and Plavix -in my heart. To Crusty’s shock, when he walked out of his private cabana and down to the beach, what did he discover? That’s right: his and hers matching antique claw-foot bathtubs! Crusty thought that was just a commercial icon fiction! Well, the wife was excited about the tubs and Crusty had to oblige. Problem is that Crusty had taken a little too much Tenex for high blood pressure, and nodded off in the tub! The wife was tired and also drifted off. Drifted off, indeed! While we were sleeping, the tide came in and when Crusty awoke, he found himself adrift in the ocean aboard a highly unseaworthy claw-foot tub. Fortunately, the wife had been rescued before Crusty so it was only a few hours before the coast guard cutter picked Crusty out of the ocean. It’s good to be alive – even if Crusty is burned red everywhere except his back and a small – er – region protected only by hands. That being said, I’m ready to answer all your 'burning' questions.
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