Evans’ Rag

Vol 3 Issue 11

I’m done with my vaccines and heading for a bar to hang out until closing time, or until they throw me out. Seriously, I do intend to go back to the gym.

My last haircut was last June, and it’s reaching my shoulders, driving D nuts. I am reverting to my college hippie days. My neighbor up the hill thinks we’re in a competition, only mine’s closer in color to my baby blonde years–white anyway. I may have to give my hair dresser a heads-up so she’s not shocked when I walk in. Getting haircuts didn’t seem to be a necessary risk. And the fact I can still grow hair makes me happy.

Virginia has just done the unthinkable; they’ve legalized marijuana. Never saw that coming.

I’ve never been harmed by pot – that I can remember… I would say we don’t need the added distraction, but folks have been smoking illegally for so long it may not make a difference. A long time ago in his newspaper column, William F. Buckley argued that drug use among the inner city Blacks kept them from errupting; I couldn’t tell from the article if he felt sympathy, but he was still opposed to drugs.

Back when he was in office I used to tell Lewis if Richard Nixon had gotten stoned and gotten laid more, he might not have been such an uptight person, though I doubt it would help Trump.

I may need to break out my 4-CD collection of Firesign Theatre. I haven’t heard Nick Danger Third Eye in a long time.

Most people didn’t see this pandemic coming either, some of whom we were counting on keeping an eye on things. Over a half million gone, and we’re not done, though if the new-old dude-Prez is right, maybe by July 4th… Almost don’t want to say that out loud for fear of jinxing it.

Spring’s nearly here. The forsythia is trying again, as are the crocuses and daffodils.