As a followup from last week’s Rag, when I let Layla out last night for her business, she dashed straight to the maple and leaped. She’d treed the racoon.

Not that he was terribly worried. He knew he was living in a kindly neighborhood.

Though, I called my neighbor again.

“An artifact found 20 years ago turns out to not be what archaeologists thought.”

“Oh hell, lookit. It’s not gold!”

Hatteras Island is always in the news if you’re following hurricanes, but this was different. The Smithsonian published an article on finding the brass ring–no, not that one–but one from the 17th Century plus or minus a few decades. The Mystery of Roanoke Endures Yet Another Cruel Twist  by Andrew Lawler, April 7, 2020

First believed to be a serious clue as to the whereabouts of the first colonists, it’s now considered just another brass ring from that era. Like there are so many of them you can pick them up cheap in any pawn shop.

Evans’ Rag

Vol 2 Issue 32

OMG It’s On The Market!

Now, ain’t that a sweet little bungalow. Make me wanna holler, throw up both my hands.

I made an offer right away. God bless those Sotheby boys–and girls, of course. With its very own hanger for the plane. Hanger may not fit my Lear, but you can’t have everything.

“Offered for $2,800,000. Private Airstrip and Hanger. 5,756 Square Feet. 139 Acres.

“We take a methodical approach to preparing and presenting our listings for the public market and convey the architect’s vision to potential buyers.” From the postcard

I can’t help but get emotional when I hear about architects and visions.

When I called Sotheby’s, yelling “yes, of course!” and other such excitations, I did ask, “The plane conveys, right?”

Who buys a fantasy mansion without the plane? Seriously.

OK, it’s pandemic time, and some fry line folks at McDonald’s are doing poorly, but we’ll throw some canned food their way, promise, soon as I get moved in and that plane tanked up.

Gotta go. The New York auditors are banging on the door, but I called the White House yesterday and spoke to the big pandemic his self who told me my pardon’s in the mail. Along with a mail-in ballot.

Please, let’s get back to living in the free world! What the hell does Neil Young know?