Hammer Mill Days

Watch me now - Work, work! (Aw, shake it up, baby!) Work, work! (Yeah, you drive me crazy!) Work, work! (Got a little bit of soul, now!) Yeah, that's me... and yes, I'm doing a cover by The Contours, circa 1962. Got to keep the lights on somehow. If it takes encouraging a bunch of over-swilled woodchucks to do the "Mashed Potato", so be it. And in case some of you feel as though I'm being less than charitable or disrespecting my fellow upstate New Yorkers, think (or feel) again - I am playing for actual woodchucks, and they've been drinking hard cider all night. Tell you something right now - if you think human beings have a corner on inebriation, you've never played the Chuck House (seven blocks south of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill). I sincerely encourage you not to. You know how human drunks have a tendency to throw bottles? Well, here at the Chuck House, hard cider is served in little wooden kegs. That's probably all I need to tell you about th

There's a lot that can be said about the Senatorial special election in Massachusetts on Jan. 19, and I'm not going to say very much of it. (You've probably heard most of the political post-mortems already.) Looks to me like the good people of our neighboring commonwealth have seen fit to hand Ted Kennedy's old seat to Mitt Romney 2.0, a slight upgrade from the original model (this one, at least, confirmably anatomically correct). As far as his political positions are concerned, it's a mixed bag - a little angry anti-bank populism (People are mad, damn it, and so am I!), a little love for waterboarding, some tin-foil hat-ism, and the usual measure of running away from his most inflammatory comments, like passively questioning president Obama's origin as the son of two legally married individuals. (Smooth.) There's also the listing from political side to political side as needed, like voting in favor of Mitt Romney's statewide health insurance system in M