Let us pause for a moment in our summertime revelry to return to the purpose the good Lord gave me this job: to save mankind from itself.

Thursday, July 12, 2001

Let us pause for a moment in our summertime revelry to return to the purpose the good Lord gave me this job: to save mankind from itself.

Here are games for people who are growing older: Sag. You’re it; Pin the Toupee on the Bald Guy; 20 Questions Shouted into Your Good Ear; Spin the Bottle of Mylanta.

Not that I’m even considering one of these games, but the SPAMTOWN USA Festival street dance was a hint that I may have to adjust my lifestyle.

Thank goodness Dave Dammen still was taking tickets at the Austin street dance. At least there was somebody there older than me.

Of course, Jerry Fell was there and Dick Chaffee, too.

Jerry never left the 1950s. He wears a denim jacket, rides a motorcycle, has a thick thatch of hair albeit white and just drips "cool."

Dick was busy guarding a large concrete flower urn along Main Street North or sizing it up as a potential Tax Increment Financing district. I don’t know which. He looked as hip as he could be.

Still, it just didn’t feel right and when two of my favorite TV journalists, Dawn Stevens and Lauren Cook, came by to say "Hi," I felt like I had been caught by my children doing something wrong after dark.

They were accompanied by two KAAL Region Six escorts to protect them, who looked just as young.

Thank God they didn’t see me dancing to "Mustang Sally."

Sad, but true, watching everyone else have so much fun makes me feel I’m missing out on something.

No longer do the police tell me to slow down. My doctor does. "Getting lucky" means finding my car in the parking lot and "getting a little action" means I don’t need any more fiber in my diet.

Maybe, it’s just a midlife crisis and the stress of working for a daily newspaper is getting to me.

For instance, I guess everybody around the Herald knows I want to open an Adams news bureau to keep track of all the zaniness happening in the Dairy Capital of the World.

Maybe, a booth at Renee’s in the morning to catch the overnight gossip, coffee and doughnuts with Dave Wiste at East Side Auto in the afternoon to hear the next version and then a stool at the end of the bar at the Legion Club at night to double-check the facts with Keith Voorhees and Dorothy Smith.

But, I don’t know if I’m ready for the big time at Adams. For that kind of job, you need lots of ambition like the bull told the turkey.

The turkey was chatting with the bull and said, "I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree, but I don’t have the energy."

"Well, why don’t you nibble on some of my droppings?" replied the bull. "They’re packed with nutrients."

The turkey pecked at a lump of dung and found that it actually gave him enough strength to reach the first branch of the tree.

The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch.

Finally after a week, he was proudly perched at the top of the tree, where he was promptly spotted by a farmer, who shot him out of the tree.

Moral of the story: Bull might get you to the top, but it won’t keep you there.

I just don’t have the edge anymore.

For instance, I had a tip that Mark Schaefer runs a crooked ring toss game at the annual Johnsburg Jamboree. So last Sunday afternoon, I drove over to St. John the Baptist Catholic Church and wandered over to where Mr. Schaefer was running the ring toss game at the church fund-raiser.

Everything thing looked on the up and up to me as kids tossed rings around a bottle of pop, so I gave Mr. Schaefer the benefit of the doubt and wandered over to where the Jim Busta Band was playing; all the while keeping an eye out for the Holstein Lady.

Can you imagine that? Lee Bonorden afraid of the Holstein Lady?

After accusing her of slowing down at the Adams Dairy Days parade in June, she got mad and I tried to make up for it by writing in this column that she was fast.

She chewed me out royally at the Blooming Prairie Independence Day parade for doing that. Seems, there is more than one meaning to the word fast.

St. John’s is the Holstein Lady’s church and God and the Pope only know what she would have done to me on the dance floor at the Johnsburg Jamboree.

So, I went home and took a nap and dreamt of street dancing.

Lee Bonorden’s column appears Thursdays. Call him at 434-2232 or e-mail him at lee.bonorden@austindailyherald.com.