Pass the Mike.


You might not know this about me, but years ago I worked as a recorder for the Pennsylvania Supreme Court.  And by recorder, I don’t mean the musical instrument “played” by 3rd graders.  I mean recorder, as in someone paid to attend important meetings at classy hotels, tape closed-door conversations, and later transcribe every salacious detail.  As far as jobs go, a real peach.

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A turkey named Wilbur.

A normal person who moved into a house where wild turkeys wandered the backyard might be inclined to ignore them until they went away.  A normal person, once these turkeys disappeared, might describe the parting as fortunate.  But since moving into our house, replete with flock of wild turkeys, my family and I have done our darnedest to bond with these big birds.

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