I haven't said my age yet but I'll tell you now I'm fifty six. As a man gets older, he mellows some, but he's still got fight in him, if he's lucky. I'm lucky. Now I'm not a squabbler, much. And I'm not a complainer, much. But sometimes I just need to run ragged on some such or other. I can't help it - it's like the involuntary reflexes of my youthful exuberance have metamorphosized into a need to rail about something from time to time. I found out today I'm talk radio's favorite demographic.
And it pisses me off.
I need to fix something. Now I know why I put off fixing that gate last winter. I needed it to look forward to.
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