I think I've earned a couple days off.--mayor McByeBye

Did anybody read the letters to the editor in yesterday's Voice? I sat here reading a letter from a Mountain Top teenager who happens to be "infuriated" by the presence of fast food restaurants in our area and I couldn't help wondering what the funk they're teaching these kids.

I am writing on account of how many fast food restaurants are popping up in our area. I am an eighth-grade student, and I find that the number of these "hamburger chains" is infuriating. I understand that some of them are putting healthier entrees on their menus, like salads and grilled chicken sandwiches, but think of it from my point of view. As adolescents, we are more inclined to pick the double cheeseburger over the veggie burger.

What the funk are they teaching these kids? An eighth-grader is upset with the menu selections in area restaurants? Where does a kid get whacked-out priorities such as these from? This "McDonalds is killing us" pig slop could only come from three possible sources; the ex-hippie parents, the activist teachers, or the video advertising box.

How about this regurgitated cud:

Obesity is one of the most dangerous health problems that we face today.

Assuming that that oft-repeated fallacy was even true, what should we do about it? Pick on the local burger joint, or quietly maintain our own weight? It's easy to gain weight. I know, I did so during the eighties in a big way. I also know that's it just as easy to lose it too. Wanna lose weight? Here's how you go about doing it: DO IT! Stop blaming some corporation if you can no longer see your feet and DO IT! already. And stop brainwashing our kids. Consider how lame it is to have teeny-boppers anguishing over a menu board at a local burger joint. A few years ago burger joints were the preferred place to hang out at after high school football games, but now they've become a target for kids...KIDS... that are being hoodwinked into marching for someone's unstated agenda. What's next? Students Against Bad Burgers?

This is so nuts. 14 year-old Food Police!? Work hard, play even harder and eat whatever you want. It's a painfully simple program that works every time it's tried. I weigh 177 pounds. If I consumed three Big Macs a day for the next year, I'd still weigh close to 177 pounds afterwards. Why? Because I'm not your typical gluttonous American. In other words, I'm a freak.

Bring it on, Frank!

Mr. America, walk on by your schools that do not teach

Mr. America, walk on by the minds that won’t be reached

Mr. America try to hide the emptiness that’s you inside

But once you find that the way you lied

And all the corny tricks you tried

Will not forestall the rising tide of hungry freaks daddy!

Super-size me. I'll sweat away those calories.

This long-awaited day has finally arrived. Today is the last day. The last day of old you-know-who's devastating administration. I had no intention of mentioning McHistoire here today. I was going to call the three members of the new administration who's phone numbers I have, wish them heaps of good luck, and then look forward to crawling from bed tomorrow morning as a new day for Wilkes-Barre finally dawns.

Despite the downpours and the street flooding here in the Nord End, Gage Andrew and I donned our umbrellas and headed for Oh Yes this morning. The little guy knows that Sunday mornings always call for a walkabout to Bobby's store for bagels, lollipops, a Yoo-Hoo, and a copy of the Voice. After arriving back at the adobe and tossing Gage's socks and sneakers into the dryer, I got around to exploring today's Sunday Voice. By the way, after a full cycle in the dryer, his sneakers were dry, but his socks were still wet. Figure that one out. (?)

So what did the Voice have in store for me? Page 1: Mayoral Memories. I was fine with this article until it got around to listing the out-going mayor's horribly short list of accomplishments. Then, I began to get angry all over again. He may finally be gone, but he's by no means forgotten. We'll be paying for his myriad of mistakes for the foreseeable future and then some. I've often told the folks I know that this guy reminded me of Bill Clinton in too many ways to list here. The Voice article reports that Bill Clinton is one of the poltiticians that McG admires the most. Birds of a feather. Enough said. Heyna?

I found a couple of his quips mildly amusing and annoying:

"I think I've earned a couple days off."

How so, Mr. McEgo? You were paid very handsomely to do little more than click pens, shuffle papers, and launch a few F-bombs at city employees. Being a mayor may be mentally draining at times, but it will never be classified as hard physical labor. You've earned $600,000 in eight years and left this city in much worse condition than when you inherited it. A $2.5 million budgetary surplus became an estimated $6-8 million debt under your far less than capable leadership. You've earned a few days off? Only a life-long Public Sector type could even be so clueless as to believe that. Gee, I worked hard for a spell. Now, I deserve a few days off. YEAH! That's how the real world operates! In your public teat wet dreams!

Then, we got the predictable reference to the "Full-time. All the time" horse hockey.

"Even my toughest critics would say I worked a lot of hours."

Any manager worth his weight in urine would never have to work 70 or 80 hour work weeks. If you can hire, train and delegate effectively; you can enjoy as much time off as the next successful manager. If you feel the need to work 80 hour weeks, that heavily suggests that your operation is f**ked-up to some degree. In the case of Wilkes-Barre, that operation was obviously severely f**ked-up. Hands-on management is great and all, provided that the hands-on manager knows what the f**k he's doing. Sadly, as it turned out, this guy couldn't manage a dunk tank without drowning someone.

"Sometimes your friends on city council today may not be your friends tomorrow."

Boo hoo. Woe is me. Council bad/mayor good. Grow up!!!! Grow up already!!!! It's not too late. Well, maybe.

"He could sell ice cubes to Eskimos," McGroarty said. "But I have a picture with Clinton holding my daughter when she was one and again when she was five. I'm very proud of that."

And there it is. "He could sell ice cubes to Eskimos." That's somehow considered an admirable quality in a politician??? Being a shameless huckster??? A snake oil salesman??? A bullspitter??? A liar??? That's admirable? I think he said too much.

I don't know about the rest of ya's, but I'd never let Bill Clinton get anywhere near my two daughters. This is the guy that got a semi-stiffy after viewing a mummified female in Central America. Whatever. Some of us have lower standards than others. Hey, baby! I'm the President. Strip bitch.

And what was this nonsense about the twenty year-old fire truck?

"The truck looks great," McGroarty said. "Time has passed and I'm a little older and a little beat up. "But I left that truck in better shape than I got it. I think that typifies me with the equipment."

I'm assuming that he was serious. We have copper dudes calling 911 to inform them that overhead lights on cruisers are failing and that cars transporting prisoners have failing batteries, but one fire truck hasn't died yet? We can't manage to replace the burned-out headlights and brake light bulbs in our police cars that are pulling people over for having burnt-out bulbs. He's kidding, right?

Like I said, I didn't want to even mention McRevisionist today, but sadly, on his very last day in office, he's still trying to put a happy face on the most embarrassing period in this city's history. He obviously learned much about damage control from his horny political hero, but that sh*t just isn't going to cut it here. Sorry.

Tomorrow is a big day. No, the city won't be re-built by this time tomorrow, but the slow process of re-building the city will begin tomorrow. Our new mayor is going to need some patience and support from all of us. I'm ready. Call on me. I'm hyperactive. And I'm eager to get busy already.

I await Spring's arrival in a big way. That's when the brooms and pruners finally get cranking. Right? You are going to join me, right?

You had better. Every little bit will help to make a difference.

Later