Journal, News, Guests by Jim Fitting
Champagne
The govenor is sipping sparkling wine from the union shoe and the prankster is pouring.
You can't call it a slipper because they work in those things. They marched up and down in the cold and snow wishing Wisconsin was Cairo or at least a little warmer. But there ain't no clambake. No kumbaya in America tonight. No midnight ball.
Your feet may hurt just thinking about it, and your eyes well...
There is a cloud over the lake and Elmore James is walking his Madison Blues.
We were sipping Champagne just the other night at the table, Peter Wolf was making with the Billecart Salmon in a most Ruanesque fashion. Duke was driving and Wolf was hanging onto nothing but the wheel...Whoo big curve up ahead. Mind your flute.
"I hang around all over town, see if you're up, see if you're down. What can I do I'm always asking for you."
But it wasn't the same because we were drinking Champagne and what they are drinking in Madison is a false concoction formulated by the billionaire monks of Clicquot & Lehmann. Those politicians look (and smell) like a possom shot and skinned the way they are nailing that owl to the barn door. (thank you Bruno)
Or maybe it's a bit of a hangover from getting hit with the tax-cutting club, that great monkey wrench they've dropped on the pub.
Usually it's just hoisting a pint, but if the great Googa Mooga decrees it we say Hail Fredonia! and pour the good stuff. Raise a glass to the hard working people, the salt of the earth. Who can afford it? None of us and I guess that's the point.
Last week it was street fighting man in Libya and tonight it's gimme shelter in Japan. Man o man. Aren't we lucky just to be here.
The week before it's the Ryans two, both Jimmy and Montbleau, packing the place to the brim. he brought Matty g. on the bass and Yauba has got enough Tosh to stop that train wherever he wants. We can blow the lyrics to All Along the Watchtower and no one seems to mind. Like a tiger by the tail or an old dog who don't know no new tricks rolling around and dusting it off while Ryan sings Face Up and we sound almost spotless amongst the clincks and drinks thanks to Joe and you all coming out in the snow. We raise our cup to you and the unions too on this darkest of nights.
Salut!
You can't call it a slipper because they work in those things. They marched up and down in the cold and snow wishing Wisconsin was Cairo or at least a little warmer. But there ain't no clambake. No kumbaya in America tonight. No midnight ball.
Your feet may hurt just thinking about it, and your eyes well...
There is a cloud over the lake and Elmore James is walking his Madison Blues.
We were sipping Champagne just the other night at the table, Peter Wolf was making with the Billecart Salmon in a most Ruanesque fashion. Duke was driving and Wolf was hanging onto nothing but the wheel...Whoo big curve up ahead. Mind your flute.
"I hang around all over town, see if you're up, see if you're down. What can I do I'm always asking for you."
But it wasn't the same because we were drinking Champagne and what they are drinking in Madison is a false concoction formulated by the billionaire monks of Clicquot & Lehmann. Those politicians look (and smell) like a possom shot and skinned the way they are nailing that owl to the barn door. (thank you Bruno)
Or maybe it's a bit of a hangover from getting hit with the tax-cutting club, that great monkey wrench they've dropped on the pub.
Usually it's just hoisting a pint, but if the great Googa Mooga decrees it we say Hail Fredonia! and pour the good stuff. Raise a glass to the hard working people, the salt of the earth. Who can afford it? None of us and I guess that's the point.
Last week it was street fighting man in Libya and tonight it's gimme shelter in Japan. Man o man. Aren't we lucky just to be here.
The week before it's the Ryans two, both Jimmy and Montbleau, packing the place to the brim. he brought Matty g. on the bass and Yauba has got enough Tosh to stop that train wherever he wants. We can blow the lyrics to All Along the Watchtower and no one seems to mind. Like a tiger by the tail or an old dog who don't know no new tricks rolling around and dusting it off while Ryan sings Face Up and we sound almost spotless amongst the clincks and drinks thanks to Joe and you all coming out in the snow. We raise our cup to you and the unions too on this darkest of nights.
Salut!
