Let’s see, what’s up with the news lately…
You may be among the one million people who viewed a YouTube clip of Mark Brown—who could easily pass for a member of ZZ Top-- dancing to “Chain of Fools” with his pet raccoon, Rebekah. Girl’s got mad moves. It’s good, clean entertainment, if more than a little surreal.
But now the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency has confiscated Rebekah, because dancing coons are somehow a menace to society.
Brown, who claims he rescued Rebekah from certain death after she killed chickens at a nearby school, is heartbroken. He’s launched a public safety campaign to get Rebekah back. The coon seems happy and healthy with Brown and, perhaps most importantly, lets him lead.
While I understand it’s against Tennessee law to harbor a wild animal, I say Rebecca was born to dance. (Admittedly, she could lose a few pounds, but that doesn’t stop her from getting her groove on.) Return Rebekah to her partner, stat!
So, your local drugstore is now going to keep tabs on how much nail polish remover you buy. CVS corporate officials are afraid you might concoct a new cocktail called “Flaming Liver Failure.” No, it’s because people are apparently buying multiple bottles to make meth.
The pharmacy chain has posted notices in numerous Southeast locations that say ID is required to buy acetone polish remover. Shoppers are also limited to how many bottles they can buy at one time.
At first I thought, “This is way past ridiculous.” Then I realized it’s all good because A) I seldom wear nail polish and B) Meth manufacturing is a public safety issue. If one meth lab goes out of business because CVS limits how many bottles of Sally Hansen acetone remover can be purchased, I can live with that.
Postscript--Realizing that most sane people stay far away from meth, it has to be said: Why in God’s name would you ingest something made with Drano and nail polish remover? Why not just drink Lysol chased with fire ant killer?
Did you hear about the Ohio couple, both law professors, whose divorce has dragged on for 17 years? They’ve been battling for seven years longer than they were married.
I’m going out on a limb and say if your divorce takes 17 years, you don’t really want to be divorced. Or you are a masochistic martyr, one or the other.
My first husband and I wrapped up 11 years quickly and without rancor. Divorce is never easy; in fact, I’d compare it with being disemboweled without anesthesia. But when two incompatible adults elect to go their separate ways and have no children and little money, there’s not a lot to argue about. Looks like the ex and I were lucky. (Although I did beg him to take his devoted dog and he refused, leading to the worst fight of the marriage. There’s irony in there, somewhere.)
This Ohio couple has been feuding over finances, the kids, and endless nitpicking legalese. Their divorce, aka World War III, made the news last week because a judge lambasted both of them publicly, saying they were a disgrace to the profession and by the way, shouldn’t be teaching impressionable law students.
It sounds like “The War Between the Roses,” only without the comedy.
Here’s my takeaway: These people somehow had two kids together--who will probably never, ever get married. Ever.
Julie R. Smith, who fears the feds will next crack down on how many news sites can be visited in 24 hours, can be reached at email@example.com.