Buster,Get My Pills

Satirical white trash redneck Dale Merrill "Randy" Randle explains the difficulty of being the first baby of the new year, and the efforts taken to have the first baby of the new year.

It's the night before Christmas in Port Huron, MI. Like everywhere throughout two-thirds of North America, people have done their patriotic duty and shopped heartily since the last forkful of turkey hit their tongue, perhaps spurred on by constant news reports of the vital need for making the economy hum by spending money and taking on debt to acquire unneeded items, all in a vain quest to impress those we've all but taken for granted the rest of the year. In the best of the rare, treasurable holiday moments in the lives we touch, we may have even been fortunate enough to give someone a bit of genuine happiness, though likely a shorter lasting happiness than if we'd given of ourselves rather than of our wallets and credit cards. Some have stormed from stores in a huff, the "spirit of giving" lost,  all because they weren't applauded loudly enough for spending, and received an all-purpose holiday greeting for everyone from the overworked and underpaid clerk, who in an attempt get to the next customer, dared to wish that all the holidays be happy rather than just Christmas. After all, the baby Jesus would want us to buy a flat-screen TV, and He certainly deserves credit that we did our patriot Christian duty, even if our spending to meet our greed and that of those we love does inconveniently run contrary to most of what the baby Jesus said as an adult. Others are just happy to be out of the store, away from the crowds and people they hate jostling with, because, of course, it slows their shopping down, and the thing they want the most may be sold out if they don't get there now...now! NOW! Some will spend the holidays alone, wishing only that they'd had someone to shop for, or someone to visit. Others will have to rely on the kindness of strangers and charity. Some out of necessity, a few out of laziness, and some due to an economy that has deemed them obsolete or irrelevant, forcing them to turn against their own pride and ask for help, often purely for the sake of seeing their children's eyes light up when Santa stops by to satiate their young offspring's carefully manipulated future-consumer greed. But, for those parents, the smiles on the young faces distract them for at least a moment from wondering how they'll feed those same smiling faces next week. No matter the category, parents of young children, inadvertently or otherwise, have taught their always impressionable, wide-eyed children of the importance of shopping, spending, buying, wanting, and how to best participate in the necessary greed inherent in what Christmas has become, with - maybe - a little Jesus tossed in here and there, too. They’re taught to be just like us, including our faults. The kids can't be blamed for what they're learning, apart from perhaps never realizing that "no" is, in fact, a valid answer. Though even then, all too often, their parents have failed to give them the gift of that clarity in the harried rush to plop the kids on Santa's lap to tell him what they really, really, really want. Parents listening closely take notes, hoping not to disappoint. On Christmas morning, kids of all ages will blink the sleep from their eyes, hoping with every tear of wrapping paper that what they really, really, really want is inside. Some will jump for joy, and love Santa Claus all the more, while others will have a pang of disappointment, eased only by loved ones assuring them Santa did the best he could. Some kids will want to kick themselves over forgetting to tell Santa about that one thing. Others will resolve to kick Santa the next time they see him. Then, it will be the next day. Those who can convince themselves they can afford it will shop more, because they didn't get everything they wanted. The greed and rush will begin again, without being interfered with by any semblance of remaining "Christmas spirit." Streets will be filled, parking lots will be jammed and malls will be packed just as before the holiday, with one person absent...Santa Claus. His job of collecting wishes and fulfilling greed is done. The children are happy, their disappointments eased, and none - not one child - will have the chance to say thank you to Mr. Claus for his generosity. Santa's chair will be empty, perhaps even gone from sight completely. Until next year, long after the children have forgotten they have enough, of course, and just in time to remind them, and all of us, to focus on what we want instead of what we have already.  Then, once again, after he's kicked the economy into high gear and reminded us all to give Jesus a good birthday by spending wildly, Santa, will be put away, without our children ever having the opportunity to not only learn, but also display, gratitude. That somehow seems backwards to me, as if an essential ingredient in giving has been lost to time. How will our children grow, and how will we as humans grow, without learning appreciation. And how will they- how can any of us know - a gift is a gift, rather than a fulfillment of selfish expectation, without ever saying thank you with the knowledge the giver really didn't have to? Parents, don't forget to let your kids know you can talk to Santa after Christmas, and can relay thanks as well as wish lists. It's a simple gift that in itself might not spur record retail sales, but it will make your children better people, and benefit them - and all of us, really, far more than anything you can wrap. To those many Santas who have truly given unconditionally without acknowledgment on Christmas or any other day, thank you. You deserve the most gifts. You've given, and made the world a tiny bit better every time. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Despite being a cat, I know this, and hopefully you do too. It's almost election time in Small(minded) Town America, aka Port Huron, the Town Fighting to Avoid Becoming Flint on the Water. In fact, if you're reading this after Tuesday Nov. 3, and didn't vote, well, you're a horrible citizen and an awful human being. OK, maybe that's a slight exaggeration. But you get the point; you’re smart, that’s why you’re reading this. I can understand why you might not have voted, or, if you're on top of things and reading this prior to the election, I can understand why you may be considering skipping the vote and might be looking at Tuesday as a good day to get that toe hair braiding you've been putting off for so long, finally done. I won't be voting, since I'm a cat. But I do see the value in it, and as one who has developed a fondness for the species that feeds me, I'm here to help you in this difficult time. You voters face a difficult task. You've got good candidates, and yet, overall, you've got lousy candidates as well. Each, as an individual, sure, they're good people, apart from maybe one who might be in direct league with the devil. Otherwise though, each does carry a heavy flaw, and it tends to be the same flaw. It’s clear most - if not all - are beholden in one manner or another to someone else in town, which deeply harms the city overall. In that situation, Port Huron's best interests are guaranteed to be set aside at times on behalf of someone else, or the vision of someone else, rather than that of the voters. While it's safe to say those candidates do have a commitment to Port Huron, it's a very conditional commitment, at least at times. One can get a small insinuation of where their loyalties lay by reading of their fundraising, but that gives only a partial picture.  It'd be far easier if they'd just tell the voters to whom they‘ve figuratively sold their soul, so we could vote with a clear knowledge of just who is pulling the strings behind each of them. But they are politicians, so even at this two clicks above being Mayberry small-town level, honesty is defined by a sliding definition. There are other flaws, quite clearly, to each candidate, which occasionally either have, do, or will, overshadow any intent they may have to better the city. Sadly, in most cases they are flaws that can only be overlooked by those choosing specifically NOT to see them. Humans never seem to grasp that being willingly blind isn't the same as genuinely creating a more pleasant truth. At times, they're obvious flaws too. Some of them turn into 12 year olds when they don't get their way, some can't keep a commitment they were elected to less than a year ago, some seem to see nothing that isn't water-related, some would give away the city, one or two seem to figure the word integrity only counts if they need to spell it, others have all but preyed on the city and helped a hockey team fail, and there's a few among both incumbents and challengers who just plain seem to offer nothing distinctive at all. Oh, and one or two - and I'm being kind here - who are just kinda stupid. Overall, none of these clowns, or clownettes, as they case may be, is all that great. Voters are basically facing a task of picking an assortment of people who hopefully won't  screw things up any worse than they already are, and hopefully, maybe, if chance is on our side, accomplish something vaguely worthwhile here and there as well. The aforementioned tongue-in-cheek critiques aside, It's not at all bad the candidates are somewhat across the board and in different pockets, it leads, at least, to differences of opinion. I'm all for variety and an assortment of opinions, because, as anyone who's ever lost a set of keys knows, the only way you're going to find what you need is by looking everywhere, even in bizarre places (and don't even try telling me you've never looked to make sure you didn't somehow leave your keys in the refrigerator).  Tossed into a blender though, all of them could produce something useful. Almost. There needs to be more variety. One more, crucial, beholden to no one, completely impartial ingredient. There needs to be a cat. This cat. Me. I won't rehash the platforms and opinions of the other candidates, because, having never fed me, they're basically irrelevant to me. More importantly, you should've already done your research on them, anyway. I will, however, give you the first of Port Huron‘s concerns I will address, in a tactical city improvement plan I like to call Port Huron, 2.0. My first act when elected to council will be to completely put to bed the issue of water rate increases once and for all, by making it clear you humans can save money, conserve water and never have to worry about rate increases again. As an added benefit, this will make the people of our city more presentable, thereby improving the quality of life for all, and reduce how scary many residents look and smell to outsiders thinking of investing in our city. I will do this immediately after being sworn in, and at every meeting thereafter, by jumping on the podium at the start of each meeting and licking myself. I will do this not for tawdry reasons, but to give visual demonstration, as you humans have yet to learn to understand the nuances of the feline verbal languages. My point will be clear. Regular grooming is not only important, not only beneficial to human's appearance and self-esteem, but also saves on water otherwise wasted on showers and baths. For those to whom regular bathing is already unfamiliar, this is a reasonable alternative. For those who bathe even weekly, this will save tremendous amounts of water, and water is money in Port Huron, apparently. Humans learning to groom with their own saliva will help take Port Huron, finally, at least into the 1990s. Apart from the financial savings saliva grooming will create - and those savings will be significant - the conservation of water will allow Port Huron to build it's own, internationally-unique tourist attraction that might interest visitors for more than 45 minutes. This will be accomplished by taking another jewel of our city, currently hidden in plain sight, and presenting it properly. My first non-licking act if elected will be to restore the water fountain in MOC plaza (the one with the naked girl on top, kids!)  and add concentrated flea and tick dip to the water (which will be at all times at a comfortable temperature), allowing citizens to bring their pets, even dogs, for a free dipping. There will be no excuse for any pet in this city, now or in the future, to ever itch again. This, incidentally, will bring in more educated and wealthy people to our city, both as tourists and residents, because people with fancy pedigreed pets don't want them scratching those delicate pelts raw. The pets of the elite have pelts that make fine coats. It will also draw tourists from across the nation, as word leaks out of the serene beauty of the Fountain Frolicking Cats of the Blue Water Area, and the joy they bring every Saturday. This will use little of the water saved via self-saliva grooming, allowing us to sell surplus water to other cities who have yet to discover this human cleaning method of the new millennia. In the event there is the chance to see these water sales reach winning-the-lotto proportions, I will then introduce the "Fecal Point Human Litter Box" initiative. In addition to conservation and tourism, I will also immediately focus my attention on another issue of concern to citizens, one facing the city on seemingly all fronts, crime. In order to maximize our city's potential, this crime solution will also serve as a tourist attraction. In front of McMorran a very functional and highly necessary structure with be built, the Port Huron Public Center of Well-Deserved Shame. This will, in essence, be a series of Stonehenge-like wooden structures, all of which will actually be artistically designed stocks, in which Port Huron's most deserving will be publicly imprisoned and displayed for proper scorn and ridicule. Whether guilty of repeated blight violations, public exposure, stepping on a tail, failing to be open reasonable hours,  beating on a neighbor, or running a bank into the ground, those who have earned being publicly displayed as harmful to our community as a whole will be forced to confront the reality of their actions and perhaps feel guilt, rather than simply dismissing them as "learning experiences," "variations in the market," or any other self-deceptive excuse for their own poor behavior and ill thought judgment. Additionally, the pelting of the imprisoned with spoiled fruits and vegetables will cause a boom in rotten fruit sales across the city, and that, my friends, means jobs. Granted, the likelihood of typing cat being elected to city council is remote, and as a late write in, it’s most certainly an uphill bridge to cross. Like the one on 7th street. But across that bridge stands a city of greatness waiting to reveal itself. I will lead the rush to the other side faster than if you’d just opened a can of tuna. You will see no campaign signs for me (unless you make your own, and please do), not even in Fort Gratiot, where some residents are suddenly deeply committed to promoting candidates they can’t even vote for themselves. In that context, the idea of a typing cat getting votes actually kind of makes sense, so I hereby throw my collar into the ring. Certainly, do your last-minute research, and vote for the humans who’ll do the best job not just for you, and not just for someone else, even if you don’t know who that someone else is. Vote for the ones whom you genuinely believe will help the city as a whole the most, for the sake of the city. After all, all of you humans are the city. But…should you not find enough candidates that suit your fancy, should you be tired from all that thinking, don’t think “leave it blank“, and don’t think Mickey Mouse. Think Cat.

Try as he might to relay the next post verbally to Danko Ramone one morning, the legendary, late, BamBamTheCat finds it once again to be pointless, and prepares to type out the next post.

But still, if I went out, of course I’d tip. That’s just common decency towards others. Even humans know that. Dogs probably not though. Dogs are drooling idiots.

Check ‘em out on Youtube here.

We might not have written record of the show, but we do have two nifty digital files that document the greatness, or at least the listening experience of the afternoon. And they are presented here, unedited, with part 1 above and part 2 below, for your dining, dancing, laughing, listening and romancing pleasure in streaming high-tech online goodness.

What happens on Wednesdays….part 2

I'd explain why all that isn't here in front of you, but it's long, frustrating story that would only bore you. But, the important thing is the interview with Clem is here, and that's what started this mess in the first place.