I heard on the radio this morning that the many citizens of this fair city had a terrible twist of fate befall them. It seems that at about 11:59 p.m. New Year’s Eve night, someone in one of the cities less desirable neighborhoods began firing his gun skyward. This drunken accidental marksman actually managed to hit a small electrical box (free registration required) mounted many feet above him. Little did he know that the box controlled the cable TV for almost 45,000 subscribers in the area.

Now you can imagine the scene, partygoers all over town, counting down with the robot posing as Dick Clark. 10…9…8…7………and static. Nothing. The party goes eerily silent. A few slurred “What the Fucks!?” are heard. Then someone probably picked up the count and the party went on. Little did drunken johnny down the street know that he had such a tremendous influence on the community. Apparently, there were fights at various “adult establishments” around town and some people even thought some terrible terrorist attack had occurred.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, “What would America be without guns and beer?”

Sure, the socks were great and the Jack Daniels went nicely with the Vienna Sausages. I even appreciated the nail clipper set, but what I really wanted for Christmas was the Pussy Snorkel.

Al Hanna, of Chicago, wants to be the oldest person to climb Mount Everest. He’s almost 72 years old. It’s great that he feels like he can make it on this, his third try. The record is currently held by a 64-year-old Connecticut man.

It was not long ago that simply making it to the top of Everest was enough of a challenge/goal. Now, getting to the top is not enough. People try to make it to the top in the least amount of time, to be the oldest, the youngest. It all smacks of competition and commercialism. Especially as guide companies charge $65,000 to drag clients, not climbers, up the mountain.

Of course, this tramping of the spirit of the mountain was detailed most famously in Jon Krakauer’s Into Thin Air. He described in painstakingly detailed journalistic style how greed and the corporate culture on the mountain may have lead to the deadliest climbing season Everest has ever seen. Surely, lessons were learned that spring and summer, but it doesn’t reassure me that a 72 year old man can find a guide who thinks it a good idea to attempt the summit.