My outdoor studio at the Neshoba County Fair

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Wednesday Free-for-All

Good morning! It’s off to the Neshoba County Fair.

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CARTOON: Drawing the line

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The Asteroid

Asteroid 1023x headed rapidly toward the Earth. It was a planet killer; an asteroid a little larger than the one that wiped out the dinosaurs. The young, panicked scientist burst through his bosses’ door with his iPad in his hand.

“SIR! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!”

His boss, the head of NASA, was busy playing Angry Birds on his phone. He looked up angrily at the young MIT grad and said, “I told you not to bother me.”

“BUT SIR!”

“Oh stop yelling and let me see what you have.” The head of NASA looked at the iPad and then dropped it. “SON OF A PLANET KILLER!”

Word was instantly conveyed to the White House and Congress.

“How long until it hits,” President Obama said looking at the head of NASA.

“Six months.”

“We can’t send Bruce Willis on a Shuttle can we?”

“Um sir, the Shuttles are retired and that was a movie.”

The President looked weary. “This is worse than I thought. We need a new Government program to study this problem.”

“Um sir, why don’t we launch rockets to knock it out?

“OK, but as long as they are paid for by tax hikes on the rich.”

The Chief of Staff Bill Daley came in the room. “Speaker Boehner is on TV.”

The President turned on the TV and watched as the Speaker (sporting a great tan and a green tie) began to speak.

“Dear America. I am Speaker of the whole House and am concerned that the President of the United States will use this asteroid as an excuse for more Government Spending. We will only allow nuclear rockets to be launched if there are equivilant budget cuts and a balanced budget amendment. America has a debt problem.”

The President looked at the TV and said, “We have to respond to him and the Tea Party. How will this affect my chances of re-election?”

“Um sir, if this hits, there won’t be a re-election.”

Gridlock ensued.

For six months, there was a tit-for-tat about how to pay for the rockets that were to be launched at the asteroid. World markets collapsed. The economy went into a Depression. Americans looted stores. Panic ensued. Fox News blamed the President. MSNBC blamed the Republicans. Some talking heads on TV and radio said, “Let the asteroid hit.” But most Americans believed the sign over Times Square that read, “It’s the Asteroid, Stupid.”

It was just as the Mayans had predicted.




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Tuesday Free-for-All

Good morning. What’s up?

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The marriage

A married couple sat in the therapist’s office, talking past each other.  Their marriage completely lacked trust — and they were on the verge of a catastrophic divorce. One that would hurt them and their children badly. Both got on Facebook and Twitter and said bad things about each other.  They made sure the whole world knew the other one was at fault.  They had lied to each other so many times in the past that if one told the other they were on fire, the other would go check a mirror. Each had friends and supporters who were behind them 100%. Both had different agendas and didn’t see eye-to-eye about the mess they were currently in.  They were ready to burn the village to save it.  Too much money was at stake.  And not to mention pride.

The therapist sat in his chair stunned, realizing that the worst was about to happen. It was a train wreck in the making.  He looked at the picture of their kids in his file and felt sorry for them.

Sounds a lot like what’s going on in Washington, doesn’t it?  The debt ceiling deadline is coming up and both sides are talking past each other.. The world’s markets are getting nervous and no solution in sight.  I don’t know if the marriage in D.C. can be healed.  But I pray that they can at least make up long enough to keep the rest of the economy from taking a hit on the chin.

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CARTOON: The wave

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Monday Free-For-All

Good morning! Let’s have a great week!

And Clucky. you know we’re thinking of you and your family right now.

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Sunday Free-For-All

Good morning! Hope you have a great day.

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The Vapors of Vicksburg

Ominous black clouds rolled across the Louisiana Delta toward the Mississippi River.

And the river did nothing to stop them.

A severe thunderstorm struck the bluffs of the City of Vicksburg right at sunset. People scattered for shelter like roaches after turning on the kitchen light.  Trees came down. Lightning flickered across the sky. Thunder boomed like the cannons in 1863.  Vicksburg was under siege once again — This time by Mother Nature herself.

The man’s car’s windshield wipers beat in a frantic rhythm, unsuccessfully trying to push back the rain.  The car radio squawked from another EBS warning from the Jackson radio station.  The man said that the storm had spun off a rare summer tornado south of town.  The hail hitting his windshield confirmed his report. He had been caught out in the middle of the Vicksburg Military Park when the storm hit.  His car was the best shelter he could find. Lightning hit a transformer nearby, knocking out the power in the whole city.  His hands gripped his steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white.

The man looked out his steamed car windows and could see the tops of the monuments through the rain and mist.  Another bolt of lightning hit a tree near the Great Redoubt. Another blast hit the Illinois Monument. A fire truck’s siren wailed in the distance.The Vicksburg Military Park was getting shelled like it hadn’t been shelled in over 148 years.

Four inches of rain fell causing streams to swell. It and the melting hail left a thick ground fog.

The man slid his car into drive and eased along the park road.  A stunned deer scampered out of it’s hiding place and into the woods.  Fog shifted like dry ice along Union Avenue.

The man turned left onto Graveyard Road to Stockade Redan.  There he heard more booming.  Was it thunder?  It couldn’t be — the storm was well on its way to Jackson by now. BOOM!  BOOM!  There it was again.  He wiped his windshield again with a hankerchief.  What he saw caused him to slam on his brakes, sending his coffee out of the cup holder and into the floor.

There were thousands of soldiers, opaque figures in the vapors and the mist, fighting.  He opened the car’s door, got out and sat on his hood.  And just watched. The fog swirled as the cannons fired repeatedly.  Men with fixed bayonets charged up the hills, only to die from another salvo of rifle fire.  Waves of men fell, round after round. Screams provided a two-part harmony with the deep sounds of the guns.  Massive explosions dotted the landscape. The man’s jaw dropped: A man on a horse came up behind him through the fog. It was the spirit of General Ulysses S. Grant.  He was holding a spy glass, a map and barking orders to a lieutenant, (who was quickly trying to scratch it down.)  Ghostly flags from both sides fluttered and fell. Fog continued to swirl.

Just then, the setting sun poked through the remaining clouds. A single beam of light burned through the fog, evaporated the troops and brought peace once again to the park. The man sat on his hood, rubbed his eyes and listened as the booming and screams surrendered to the silence.

Just then a Park Ranger pulled in behind the man and got out of his truck.  “You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Saw what?” The man didn’t want to be thought of as crazy.

The Ranger smiled and said, “It’s closing time.” He then paused, pointed out to the now-empty field and said, “And Happy Fourth of July. You know it was the day the fighting ended.”

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