Larry Thack just made a deal with a scalper at Philips arena for tickets to the “Muslim Band” he’s heard so much about.

Now what am I going to do? Trump has apparently closed the phone lines, banning all of the citizenry from communicating our grievances, desires, and, in my case, bad dreams.
For decades I have relied on that phone line to the White House as my primary means of communication with my equal, the President. From the scoldings I would give Truman for not being Roosevelt to the way-to-go’s I thought Jimmy Carter really needed to hear – He didn’t want to quit his peanut job, Rosalynn was a manipulative bully. In the fifties I’d call with my movie reviews for Eisenhower, because, as I recall, it was a docile time without any real social upheaval or the like. In the sixties I would complain that it wasn’t the fifties and I would call on Ladybird Johnson.
Oh whoops, Trump didn’t shut it down. It was closed in early January during Obama’s administration. I guess they do that sort of thing during the transition. Maybe I should clear this up with local firebrand Ogechi Oparah. She was sitting in the chair right next to me at the barber when I was complaining about it, and she got pretty upset. Said she was going to mobilize or something.