The Black Sage Journal

  Hullabaloo, and howdy doo! Musty prawns, and Timbucktu! Yeltsy-by, and hibbety-hoo! Kick 'em in the dishpan! Hoo, hoo, hoo!! ~Eustace Bagge, Courage the Cowardly Dog Almost cut my hair It happened just the other day It's gettin' kinda long I coulda said it was in my way But I didn't and I wonder why I feel like letting my freak flag fly ~Almost Cut My Hair, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young A few years back, while I was busy yelling at a cloud one day, a compatriot of mine started referring to me as a grumpy old man. I was taken back a bit by that accusation. Sure, I’m old (in a comparative sort of way), but grumpy? Perhaps I was grumbling at the time, but I certainly didn’t feel grumpy. I wasn’t scowling. And I wasn’t rude or belligerent or mad or unhappy. So what made my friend perceive me as grumpy? Just because I said out loud what I was thinking? Because I dared to call a dark cloud a dark cloud? In the past, I would have never been accused of such a crime. From m...