“One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got into my pajamas I’ll never know” -Groucho Marx

You’ve heard the big hoo-ha over the dentist who shot the lion in Zimbabwe, right? The Idler is generally not in favor of shooting anything, with the possible exception of Neil Patrick Chauncey Rodham Harris who does those unbelievably annoying Heineken commercials where he “spontaneously” corrects the ad copy. Also, we have to acknowledge the necessity of lowering the boom, spatula-wise, on certain of God’s creatures that go under the heading of insects. Especially since that sure-fire concoction we saw on Facebook with the confectioner’s sugar and the corn starch not only didn’t work but the ants were leaving us notes written in tiny, misspelled ant shorthand saying “leeve us mor of this stuf.” I think they must be hanging out with those Chick-fil-A cows.


Here’s what the dentist did wrong, aside from cutting a $50K check to the safari outfit. He shot a lion with a first name. Consider the difference between these two sentences:

  • I ran over a squirrel on 885 this morning
  • I ran over Steve on 885 this morning.

For most people, running over “Steve” seems worse than running over some generic woodland creature, although if you ever bowled against the Steve we know you wouldn’t be all that conflicted by the news. Let’s face it, if you wake up one morning and see a story titled, “Dentist shoots lion” you’re going to  yawn and go straight to the comics or Drudge or something, right? Unless it’s your dentist in which case you say, “Hey honey, you remember all that cash we spent on the kids’ braces? That bozo spent it on a #!%* safari!”

But because it was “Cecil” the lion, all sorts of people with way too much time on their hands woke up in their parents’ basement and got emotional about it. “He killed Cecil? That miserable, loathsome slug! Also it’s a shocking example of white-male cis-gendered patriarchal something-or-other so, let’s start a hashtag about him!” I don’t know what half of that means either, but meanwhile, out on the serengeti:

Wildebeest #1 “Remember that lion that ate Larry last Wednesday?”
Wildebeest #2  “Yeah”
Wildebeest #1  “Some dentist from America shot him”
Chorus of wildebeest : Yaaayyyyy!
Wildebeest #2  “I miss Larry.”

None of which has anything to do with the Republican presidential primary debate that  is either happening tonight or already happened depending on when you’re reading this. Of the 3,587 announced candidates, 10 are debating in one event and the rest will engage in a series of single elimination UFC sanctioned no-holds-barred cage matches at a Trump hotel/casino venue to be determined. Since it’s hard lately to find someone who isn’t running for president we were hoping some of our local pols had thrown their extra-large conical hats into the ring. Wouldn’t it be great if, when Jeb Bush says, “I have a letter here about the Iranian nuclear deal”, one of our boys could tell him he’s got a letter too and another could tell them both what to do with it.

The Idler is giving semi-serious thought to a presidential run himself but only for the office of ex-president. That way we could play a lot of golf, travel to foreign countries with a large entourage and hire all our otherwise unemployable relatives to work at our combination “library” and rathskeller theme park. If it turns out we actually have to serve as president for a short time, we might consider doing some presidential stuff, but it better involve blowing stuff up and not be for very long. Say we were sworn in on January 20th, we could handle it until pitchers and catchers report to Bradenton, and then the impeachment machinery better get underway. If nominated I will probably run, but if elected I will not serve past opening day. And like Teddy Roosevelt who is on Mt. Rushmore and everything, I pledge not to shoot anything that has a first name that isn’t Neil. Or maybe Steve.

Comments – DickVerbo@hotmail.com  Also, Like “The Idler” on Facebook

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