ah wilderness

Well there we have it, you liked cars because they could take you out to the wilderness.  As you know I am not a big fan of the wilderness, oh a nice vista from the highway sometimes takes my breath away, but that is from a distance.  I know, from as much experience as I chose to have, that up close it is full of mud and bugs and sharp twigs sticking up everywhere. 

Way back when I was a boy scout I went door to door selling first aid kits like the be-prepared kid my uniform purported to represent.  When I and my fellow scouts had earned enough money the American way, selling stuff door to door, we bought a mess of pup tents, which were a royal pain in the ass to put up, but worse than that was waking up in one on a cold and rainy morning, with no tv showing cartoons, just a grumpy scoutmaster trying to cook some goop on the campfire and expecting us scouts to clean his grubby cooking utensils afterwards.

Ah wilderness, leave it to the Beagles of this fair land, Uncle Ken has no use for it.

Ah the wildness of youth though, looking back on it in our sunset years we are sometimes appalled at the things we did because it appears that only benevolent fate allowed us an old age.  But still we take a little pride in it, puff ourselves up a little bit in our Lazy Boys, and think boy though, wasn't I something, wasn't I something?

Dinty Moore beef stew.  I believe you mentioned something in an earlier post about buying a case to see you through the long drive through the land of the midnight sun (I assume this trip was in the summer).  I know you have done it before, but could you tell me your route again, my vague memory is that it was smack dab in the middle of the state.

But Dinty Moore, the king of the cans, spaghetti O's, Chef Boy-Ar-De, and corned beef hash.  These were the foods of my hippie days.  The trick was you could open the top of the can, put it in a pot of water and boil the water and presto, a meal in a handsome container and no dirty dishes.  They were all good, but Dinty Moore Beef Stew was the king. 


Oh I feel compelled to say something on this To Kill a Mocking Bird sequel because it is a media blitz.  I won't recount the story because I know that even you in your wilderness must have caught it channel hopping to find stock prices on the tube or wrapping your fish in the local paper.

Anyway the main thing I want to say is, it is just a book for Chrissake.  He is a fictional character.  I hear people talk about how inspiring blah, blah, blah, he was, and all I have to say is if Harper Lee was of a mood she could have made him an axe murderer with the twist of a pen because she happened to be in a bad mood that morning.


Alright then, I have the Rev Al book.  I've read maybe the first couple pages of the introduction.  Sounds like it is going to be a little scholarly, a little philosophical, a little slanted, but I think it will provide some meat for our discussion.