Wednesday, July 09, 2003


I just came back from a quick visit to the Saratoga Town Hall, where I had a gander at the polling sheets I placed there on Monday. Opinion expressed thereon is, so far, divided, as I expected, with one exception.

So far everyone who has bothered to register a preference has said "yes" to the proposal to ban deer feeding in Saratoga.

Of course, not a one of the known deer feeders has bothered to squeak out anything yet, with the exception of the Troll (not his real name, but a self-proclaimed one, i.e. I did not bestow this name), who muttered his displeasure to me in a bar one night.

Sorry, but that doesn't count.

So anyway, folks, now's your chance. If you enjoy feeding deer or know someone who does, git your hineys down to town hall and tell us so.

I figure we'll leave those out until the first town council meeting in August, and maybe put a discussion of what to do on that meeting's agenda, if the mayor agrees to do so.

But guys, I really don't want this to be another junk car ordinance-style debacle, where the people who don't like this idea keep silent until it's too late or almost too late and then raise an unholy ruckus. That's why I bothered with the meeting and the poll sheets.

But if you deer feeders can't be bothered to stand up for yourselves this month, don't even try coming to me for sympathy if your little pastime is rendered illegal.

But god, I hope it doesn't come to that. I'm trying to imagine how a ban like that would be enforced without creating a whole new slew of civil liberties issues, like yard inspection. Ugh!

The ball, though, is in your court at the moment, fellow Togies.

Sunday, July 06, 2003


Dateline Saratoga, 4 p.m., July 4. The telephone rang, still a surprising sound in the Unabomber Cabin, one that sends the Collie of Folly into the closet.

On the other line was none other than Erin-Go-Braless, a.k.a. the Punk Martha Stewart, who "just wanted me to know she was thinking of me on the holiday" and was I doing the usual that evening? The usual being, of course, drinking on the porch of the Whistle Pig with my family and watching Old Baldy Club's fireworks display. I grunted some kind of affirmative and rang off, being late for dinner at Fort Sherrod.

A few hours later, My Own Dear Personal Mom, Dad, and Sister and I are on said porch, watching said fireworks, and lo and behold, EGB/PMS doth turn up on same!

She's only here for a few days.

Blogging may be sporadic.

Longtime readers will understand what a hilarious, fun, disruptive influence EGB truly is. Apologies in advance.

On the plus side, those of you who occasionally encounter Your Humble Blogger in the flesh may note an aesthetic improvement, because the Kate's Landing Plein Aire Hair Salon will of course be open for business later this evening.

OK, I guess it's summer now.