Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Kelly & Ellis bring 'Something Old, Something New' to the table...

By Peter Rodman
Around 12 years ago, Casey Kelly began showing up at his Nashville gigs with this other singer-songwriter,  casually combining his laid back storytelling style with her born-to-sing harmonies.  Audiences might have come to see Casey sing the hits he’d co-written for folks like Tanya Tucker (“Soon”) and George Strait (“The Cowboy Rides Away”), but they often were charmed by his casual recollections (delivered in an almost Jimmy Stewart-like cadence) from his Tin Pan Alley days to his California affiliations--with the likes of Loggins & Messina and Jackson Browne, to name a few.
Casey Kelly's self-titled 1972 Elektra album
The first time I ever heard him was in the early '70s, when Elektra records issued his self-titled debut album, which I ended up playing regularly on KRNW--a free form radio station in Boulder.  
Fast-forward to the '90s, when he appeared on my radio show in Nashville (on 'Radio Lightning 100'), now a hit songwriter for the above-mentioned artists and more.
As we taped an interview in my tiny West End apartment, we were suddenly interrupted by an irritated but determined wasp.  I flailed about with a fly-swatter, until Casey gently said, "No, no, no...don't hurt him!"  With that, he simply cupped his hand in the air, and calmly walked over to the window, releasing the lil' winged one, to sting another day.
Subsequent years (and songs) have borne out his gentle nature.
Casey was always full of surprises…
But the biggest surprise of all was his on-and-offstage partner, Leslie Ellis--who started appearing with him maybe a dozen years or so ago.  

'Kelly & Ellis' (as yet un-named, then)
© 2014 Peter Rodman.

(I didn't catch them together until 2014, when I wrote, "her wit, emotive vocal control and songs are completely disarming.")  She'd match him song-for-song with her own well-crafted acoustic numbers, only to kick things into overdrive, halfway through the set.  
She’d first mention, then (ever so briefly) demonstrate her own performing background--which includes Grammy-winning classics (“My Heart Will Go On,” shadowing Celine Dion’s vocals, and adding backgrounds) as well as Broadway shows. (Cats, La Cage, City of Angels, etc. ) 
All of this came rolling gracefully off the stage in a manner so understated, even the most jaded Bluebird Cafe attendees might have thought, 'What just happened here?
The point is, by the time their sets were over, audiences had taken a journey they hadn't quite expected to take. 

Over time, the two performers began formalizing their arrangements.  She’d harmonize on his songs, as he’d do on hers--adding expert guitar licks from a barstool onstage--until finally, a couple years back, they decided to formalize THE arrangement:  
Casey and Leslie formed a group.

Not what you were expecting?
Oh, yeah…well...they got married, too.
(Are ya happy now?)

Leslie Ellis
‘Kelly & Ellis’ as they’re now known, forged this bond over time, not diamonds. 
And the result is unlike just about any other act you’ll find. 
Casey Kelly
Who else can draw from not only ‘The King of Country’ (George Strait) but the King of All Soundtracks…The Titanic
Lest you imagine some sort of schlock-fest here, rest assured…it’s still an acoustic act, thoughtfully and tastefully presented, but refreshingly new.  Think of the music as thoughtful-meets-pizzazz, as the introspective songwriters finally 'Sing Out,' in the parlance of that classic folkie magazine.

Most of the songs they currently perform are from their forthcoming debut album together, which harkens back to Casey's Elektra solo debut, as much as it does Leslie's onstage and platinum recording stints, both on Broadway and in L.A. 
I dare say it's quite possible they're Nashville’s most endearing onstage duo--though some disgruntled fans of the recently-canceled ABC series ('Nashville') might just egg me, for that assessment.
The difference is... 'Kelly & Ellis' are real.  

I must confess, describing what they do is much harder than enjoying it. The potential for clichés, especially when describing a duo, is endless:
“Joining forces?” 
Nah, that sounds like NATO.
“Worlds collide?”
Nope...too seismic.
“The Perfect Blend?”
Not unless you’re Maxwell House. (which, incidentally, also began here in Nashville)
“Coming Together?”
Okay, now you’re in risky territory!

You’ll just have to see Kelly & Ellis perform (this is about the songs, and the hearts behind them) to hear how two very different performers ended up brewing such a pleasing blend. 
Good things take time...(Oops…there I go again, with the
...and they've been busy lately--honing, shaping, and road-testing some of the best new material to come out of Nashville since...well, Nashville.  

How about if I just simplify things? 
If you get the chance, go check 'em out.

~Peter Rodman
Nashville, Tennessee
May, 2016

This opinion column © 2016 by Peter Rodman.
All Rights Reserved.

Friday, April 8, 2016

A Message to Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos: 'Hubris' Be Thine Enemy.

By Peter Rodman
  What is it, that happens to those few odd visionaries whose genius and innovation makes them multi-billionaires, but whose insatiable desire for "world domination" often means even being "#1" is never enough?
I am speaking today of Jeff Bezos, founder and CEO of  Amazon.
If there's a 'shark,' this guy has surely jumped it.
Issue #1:
I've been an Amazon Prime member since the beginning of Prime--way before the guy decided to spend a few billion more, to have drones and rocketships someday deliver our packages.
(In truth, this is NOT what we want; it's what he wants.)
Anyway, back in February I was dismayed to find they'd (for the first time ever) *automatically* renewed my annual Prime membership, without my approval. Just used my card to withdraw the dough, without any permission but their own, having made auto-renew their 'new policy.' (Suffice it to say, I don't like other peoples' fingers in my bank account.)
That was bad enough.
Issue #2:
Last week I had to send back a crappy turntable I'd bought, so I got it refunded, and immediately ordered a much better one at three times the price (also on Amazon) ...only to find out (after they sent a note saying "Your refund has been processed!") that their other "new policy" is that you DON'T get actually your money back in a "refund" anymore.
You get "an Amazon gift card."
That's yet another new policy, set as a 'default,' without prior notice.
I decided I'd call and complain about this--even though I'd certainly spend the $100 on Amazon, within a week or two.
To me, it's the principle of the thing. I'll decide how to allocate my own funds, thankyouverymuch.
Issue #3:
Trying to actually call Amazon Customer Service has *always* been a dicey proposition...
But, now?
In a further display of hubris, Bezos has REMOVED THEIR NUMBER from any readily searchable area on their website!
I eventually found an Amazon "Help Forum," where there were over 350 questions asking, in one form or another, "How do I call Amazon Customer Service?"
Funnily enough, they all seem to have been answered in the past... but now (as of February) each answer says:
"Answer removed by Amazon."
How'da ya like them apples!
It took me another 25 minutes of dog-chases-tail searching, before I finally went OFF SITE, and found the customer service number for them. (My particular complaint about the gift card didn't fit into any of the easy 'categories' that would help me be able to register my complaint online, without calling.)
When I finally reached "Greg" at their Customer Service number, the way, is:  866-216-1072 (Thank me later...and WRITE IT DOWN, because they really, really don't want you to have it!!!) he explained that a gift card is the new 'default' way Amazon refunds are "always" issued.
I said, "Fine, Greg...but that's not actually a refund, which would be you RE-FUNDING my account, for the hundred bucks I paid."
"I understand," he said, quite professionally, "but that's just how we do it now."
"Okay, then," I said, "I'll just have you refund the gift card! Okay?"
"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't do that."
"What? Why not?"
"Because you didn't really buy the gift card..."
"I beg to differ, Greg. If I paid for the gift card, then clearly...I REALLY DID BUY the gift card! I want a refund. And by the way, this isn't really even a request's a demand."
"I'm sorry," he said politely, "I can't do that."
"Then please put somebody on the phone who can," I said. "Greg, I realize it's not you--you're just telling me what they tell you to say, but it's really obnoxious to call it a refund, and then not refund the money. I know I'm right. That's wrong! I'll be happy to contact the District Attorney, who I'm sure would agree with me: Taking my money without my permission is technically theft. But maybe I should talk to a Supervisor instead. I need you--and by that I mean Amazon--to understand that my money is my money, and Amazon needs to give me the refund they said they already gave me."
I order a lot of stuff on Amazon...
but Mr. Bezos is giving customers like
me second thoughts, lately.
Two words to remember, Jeff... 

Well, we finally got it done. Without a supervisor. Greg seemed to 'get it,' and was much nicer by the end of our conversation. I assured him that he is not the problem, and that I do respect the position he's in over there, but I still wasn't ready to be steamrolled by Amazon, no matter what he's trained to say, or how little the amount in dispute. 
"I'd be mad, too," he finally confessed.
My overarching point is this:
These new 'policies and practices' at Amazon bear the grubby fingerprints of a man whose lust for world domination has caused him to lose sight of the basics--those simple needs of his average, 'core' customer.
All the proof you need:  300 requests for the number,
which obviously means people can't find it. 
"Deleted by Amazon"...but no number anywhere, on
the "Help" page
that's a customer's last resort!

We don't actually need drones delivering our packages! We don't need Amazon to be our phone company, or our grocery store, despite Mr. Bezos's bottomless lust for expansion into those (and countless other) areas.
Above all, we don't need (or want) Mr. Bezos to make his choices FOR us, with our money!
All we need is what they used to provide, at Amazon:
Amazingly quick, easy service--with respect for our time, our safety, and our business. In other words, "no muss/no fuss!"
But just lately, Jeff?
You've taken a simple page and glopped it up with so much junk, it's hard to even wanna be there anymore.  Plus, the biggest recent threat to my safety while shopping at Amazon has emerged as Amazon itself--assuming it's okay to play with my money. (See examples above.)  
In short, Jeff...
You've morphed Amazon into ALL muss, ALL fuss.
Not good.
No matter how big you think you've become, there's still such a thing as being "too big for your britches."
Hubris be thine enemy.
This opinion column Copyright 2016 by Peter Rodman.  
All Rights Reserved.

Monday, February 29, 2016

Forget Super Tuesday: Republicans MUST STOP Donald Trump

By Peter Rodman

I don't care how many states he wins on "Super Tuesday."
Donald Trump cannot be the Republican nominee for President.
After deflecting literally dozens of potentially career-ending statements he's made, Trump has finally tripped over his own arrogance.
He couldn't even find the words to answer Jake Tapper on Sunday morning. 
When asked if he (Trump) would disavow David Duke and the Ku Klux Klan, Trump answered, "Just so you understand, I don't know anything about David Duke, OK?"
Tapper pressed him on it--something rare in the press these days--and gave him every opportunity to knock this softball question out of the park.
He made clear he was only asking if Trump would "distance himself" from the Ku Klux Klan, but still--Trump wouldn't answer the bell, for an easy call. 

Instead, he weaved and bobbed, like a stunned boxer, always on the defensive:
I don't know anything about what you're even talking about with white supremacy or white supremacists. So I don't know. I don't know -- did he endorse me, or what's going on? Because I know nothing about David Duke; I know nothing about white supremacists." 
Something's not quite right with this guy.

The other day, New York Time columnist Timothy Egan surmised "lack of sleep" is affecting Trump's judgement on a daily basis. No, really. ["A Unified Theory of Trump"~ New York Times, 2/26/16  ]
Whatever the reason, Trump has now officially gone beyond the beyond, in terms of unacceptable behavior.
It's over...or at least, it should be.

Here's how the GOP can still save their party:
1. Chris Christie sh
ould immediately RESCIND his endorsement. The taint of bigotry is about to stain him, too--and despite all he's been accused of, Christie has never had "racism" in the mix, that I know of--but he's about to...unless he immediately disowns this lunatic.  Plus, the power of rescinding might actually bolster Christie's own badly damaged credibility--so for him, it's a win-win, to simply say, "I can see now, I made a mistake with this guy."
Not only would it seem courageous, it would actually give pause to the millions of minions out there, thinking everything's still hunky-dory.  In other words, it would have an even greater impact than his endorsement did, or for that matter, Christie's candidacy itself.
2. Jeb Bush, George W. Bush, Mitt Romney, Lindsey Graham, and Bob Dole need to hold a press conference, announcing they will BREAK from the party, unless Donald Trump is stopped. 
3. Jeb should probably re-enter the race after Tuesday, as many more delegates are there for the taking on March 15th, and by that time Trump will be seriously damaged goods. 
4. It would help if Reince Priebus were fired.  This guy has overseen more damage during his tenure than any previous Republican National Chairman in history. (Remember his big "Autopsy," after the 2012 election, detailing where the Party went wrong, and how to change it?  You know, the one wherein he swore they'd be more "inclusive" of minorities, going forward...and of Hispanics, in particular?)
People are slowly beginning to realize something central to
the problem:
This man, Donald J. Trump, is actually crazier than he is smart.
"The curious thing," said Republican strategist Nicolle Wallace today on Morning Joe, "is that he's not getting better.  You'd think after this many months, he'd learn not to keep making the same mistakes." 
Said Joe Scarborough, who'd been heartily cheering Trump on, until this weekend: "Even if you disagreed with it, you could understand why people supported the 'ban on Muslims' thing--if only because it related to national security.  But this (Ku Klux Klan thing)?  This is disqualifying." 
(Note: Predictably enough, Scarborough--a former Republican congressman--walked back his comments later on in the show, suggesting Trump could actually redeem himself with a "heartfelt apology" today, something so foreign to the man he couldn't do it, even if he wanted to.)
But that's not the problem at all.

The core problem is who Donald Trump is--not what he says.
As egregious as the litany of debasement is, the real problem is that he just can't help himself.
At this writing, Trump won't even disavow the Klan...though within an hour or two, he'll remind everybody that he did that Friday, if somewhat sarcastically: "Okay, you want disavow?" he shrugged. "Fine.  I disavow."
He's taken to imitating a B-movie mobster, from behind the podium. "Yeah, you're really tough," he sneered in one so-called debate.  "Little Marco!" 
This is clearly a rich kid who never gained any measure of maturity, beyond schoolyard taunts...because he never had to--he's been insulated by Daddy's money all his life.  
He literally can't help himself.
Even more pertinently, this is not actually that smart a man.   It's a hustler, who figures he can gild the rope line to the White House, and shake things up with sheer guile--a little shifty stuff here; a little security thuggery there.
He's openly encouraged his rabid supporters in New Hampshire to beat up any hecklers, even hollering "Take his coat!  Take his's ten below outside!  Take his coat!" from the podium.

Ask yourself....who does that? 
Even Richie's hair looks familiar.
I'll tell you who:  The schoolyard bully.  Richie Rich.  But unlike the affable comic book character, in reality those kids were usually the cads nobody liked--mediocre minds, who flaunted their money and taunted the weak, knowing they simply couldn't fail, because they didn't really need to earn anything--including respect. 
And this is not just 'old news.'
Even today, as I write this, another such item has surfaced, which you'll be seeing on tonight's Nightly News

Time Magazine Photographer Slammed to the Ground by Donald Trump's Security at Out-of-Control Va. Rally  

Now imagine, if you can, a candidate who actually argues publicly with the Pope--then suggests, mock-sheepishly "I dunno, maybe it's because I'm Christian," that the IRS is auditing him. 
This guy is so delusional, he thinks we'll believe it's his faith--let's say that slowly now:  Donald Trump's "FAITH!"--that's causing the IRS to watch his finances a little more closely than the rest of us.
Even so-called "evangelicals," when polled, have acknowledged they don't believe he's the religious sort, but they overlook that, because they say they like his "strength."
But nobody believes the guy who mangle-quoted the Bible so badly he drew laughs at Jerry Falwell's Liberty University is religious. "Two Corinthians, 3:17," he said gamely, to the crowd of born agains, "That's the whole ballgame."
The real ballgame is a con game.
Trump actually believes he's fooling us all; that's why the brazen attempt to become a Bible quoter was floated so audaciously, in front of a crowd of people who've memorized the thing from beginning to end--he believes he can fool 'em all!
On Celebrity Apprentice, even famous contestants far more accomplished (or older) than him (like Joan Rivers or Geraldo Rivera or Nick Nolte)  were told (as a condition of participating) to always address him as "Mr. Trump."

He believes he's the smartest guy in whatever room he's in, because life's been easy for him--and these people must be a whole lot dumber than him, because he's got the dough. 
If that sounds like I'm going too far, consider the first thing he ever did to impress the people of Iowa--one of his earliest acts as a candidate:              

"Free helicopter rides, for all the kids! 
Go on...get in there!"
That's a guy who thinks he knows what it takes, to win over all of us hicks.
There'll never be enough room to detail Trump's every wince-worthy remark, in this lowest-of-the-low affair.  
And I promise, I won't try...but it's important not to leave out the fact that he's insulted women at every turn, for decades--from repeatedly calling Rosie O'Donnell "a pig, with the ugliest face I've ever seen," to implying that Meghan Kelly's period ("...she's got blood coming out, everywhere!") caused her to ask him a legitimate question about his ongoing habit of insulting women. 
(See what happened there?  He couldn't help doing it again.)
"Look at that face," he said, of Carly Fiorina. That, he found disqualifying; but her miserable record in business?  Not so much.
We all know by now, Trump says he plans to round up 11 million immigrants and deport them; that John McCain wasn't a war hero, because he got caught; that Marco Rubio has big ears, etc.
Trump belittles and bullies everyone, almost like a kid who's seen Scarface too many times.
The overriding message that's beginning to get clearer each day?
He's just not. all.. that... smart.
Leave aside the fact that the puerile, all-night Twitter rants are not indicative of Presidential timbre. (Not even close.)
This MYTH that he's "teflon" or even that he's "conservative" is foolish, on its face. 
Trump's actually a very simple animal: 
He wasn't wrong there!

a meglomaniac, literally consumed by his insatiable desire to be powerful, famous, and "win."
He's blissfully unaware of how many of his own followers roll their eyes during his endless fits of bragging onstage about his "fantastic" business, and his "unbelievable" poll numbers.
Think back a couple years:
When was the last time you heard someone so boldly and persistently refer to themselves as "winning?"

And he's no less delusional than Charlie Sheen was, at the height of his crack addiction.
Mr. Trump has suggested--within the last 48 hours--that "new laws be passed, so the press can be sued, if they say bad things about public figures" him.
Summing it all up, this man is a monster. 
He must be stopped--and the Republican Party does not have to accept that Rubio or Cruz are the only alternatives to Trump! 
Not only is Kasich still running and qualified, but--as I mentioned earlier here--nothing's to stop Bush or even Christie from "un-suspending" their campaigns.
There's still plenty of PAC money to go around, and while Trump has a serious head start on the delegate count, he's still gonna have less than half of the delegates he needs to take the nomination after Tuesday, even assuming he wins all 11 contests in a clean sweep. 
         This is from February 28, 2016. It's a quote from 'Il Duce,' meaning
          WWII Italian dictator Benito Mussolini, re-tweeted by Donald Trump.
    Said Trump, "I don't care who said it--it's a good quote!"
The only reason not to challenge this--balls to the wall--is a glaring LACK OF COURAGE within the Republican Party. Yes, the numbers look bad, delegate wise. But make no mistake: They could still save themselves (and our country) from going down a terribly dangerous road, reminiscent of 1938 Germany.
They just need to find the courage to create a dramatic 'national moment' (like the large press gathering suggested above), wherein they can get the nation's attention all at once, and spread the word:  
'The madness is over. We will not accept Donald Trump as our candidate for President.'  
Problem is, longstanding Republicans of conscience would need to unite to do this, and risk alienating their rabidly out-of-control radio talk show base, for the good of our nation... something the "Party of No" is no longer used to doing.

This opinion column is Copyright 2016 by Peter Rodman.  All Rights Reserved.

HBO's John Oliver had this to say-- quite marvelously, I thought!... 
John Oliver dissects Donald Trump's Bluster

Sunday, February 14, 2016

My Sunday Morning Adventure

By Peter Rodman

This morning I got up early, and went down the road to treat myself to a Sunday NY Times. On the way home, I saw a MAPCO gas station that said "$149.9."
"Hmmm," I thought, "...good enough for me!" So I pulled in to top the tank.
As I tried to pay the guy (in advance, of course) he seemed distracted. Finally he said, "Just a minute," and next thing I heard was his Indian accent, scolding someone. "You got to leave now...I told you before!"
Apparently a lady had fallen asleep on the floor, off behind where you fill out your Lotto tickets. "She's been here for over an hour," he complained. I only got a glimpse of the matted hair and a tattered overcoat, from behind. "Okay, I'll move," she said. "...I'm sorry."
As I pulled out, I realized the short walk to my car was absolutely freezing...and even though she'd moved to another section of the store, the guy would probably kick her out

soon. I had no cell phone with me, and quite frankly decided it would be easier to just get her some hot food now, than to try to 'save the day' by putting her in my own car.
To go where, anyway?
So I drove to a McDonald's down the street and ordered an Egg Mcmuffin, and a hot chocolate with whipped cream. Mine was the only car there, but apparently both ladies there are in training...and it took nearly 10 minutes just to get the two basic items ordered, and another 5 minutes for some reason, to get my twelve cents change back!
I raced back toward the MAPCO store--and as fate would have it, there was a Nashville Fire Department SUV just in front of me at a red light, so I actually jumped out of my car and knocked on his driver's side door, explaining to the fire

guy that this lady there obviously had no shelter, and was about to get kicked out on the street.  He seemed non-plussed, but because it was only a block away he agreed to follow me there.
When we got to the MAPCO, she'd already been kicked out...but they figured she'd gone across Nolensville Pike--a six lane thoroughfare here, to yet another convenience store. The fireman reluctantly followed me there, and sure enough, the guy in there behind the counter said, "She's in the bathroom."
I asked him to go get her. 

One wonders how many of these situations happen all over Nashville, each and every night.

Meanwhile, the fireman pulled up in the SUV, impatient now--in all fairness, he was probably on his way to work when I sidetracked him. 
He leaned out the window. " she drunk?"
"I don't know, I didn't even get a look at her...but..." I spread my hands out and motioned in the pre-dawn air, and looked up and around us, to emphasize the cold; it was 29 degrees. The time was 5:55 a.m.
"Even if it were 8 o'clock," I said, "it'd be too cold for anyone to be outside here, for very long..."
She finally emerged from the store, looking for all the world like someone who had donned Bette Davis's outfit in A Pocketful of Miracles.  
Yep, it was 'Apple Annie'--but without an apple, and without a home, and without much hope at all.  
Bette Davis as 'Apple Annie' in
A Pocketful of Miracles

Only thing is, the grime here was real; jokes about 'Central Casting' won't keep anybody warm.
The fire department guy leaned out his window.
"Where are you trying to go?" I could see him looking at me as a possible driver, so I handed her the food, and jumped in my car.
"I'm trying to get to a woman's shelter," she replied. 

Good answer!, I thought--now he'll have to get her there!
I took that as my cue to split.
"Thank you," I said to the fireman, and pulled away.

He did not look happy about this situation being dropped in his lap. And after all, he personally didn't "deserve it"...but wouldn't police-and-fire be charged with scraping up the body, if the lady expired outdoors, in the bitter cold?
Which is better, taking preventive measures and slightly delaying your appointed Sunday morning rounds, or possibly dealing with a dead person, later on?
And by the way...
Just how many convenience stores here in Nashville double as shelters for the homeless on a cold night, completely unbeknownst to the vast majority of citizens who patronize them? (It all seemed fairly routine, to those guys behind the counters.)
I'm not telling this story to try to come off as any kind of angel, either. Believe me, I can be pretty hard-assed about these things myself--and occasionally I run out of compassion, just like anybody else. (For example, I've grown

sick and tired of being accosted at every intersection by people walking between lanes or obstructing my view while driving as they wave a newspaper at me, even if 'The Contributor' serves a function. Basically, let's be real: It's just legalized begging. And yes, I give 'em money sometimes, if it's handy--and safe to do so--which it all too often ISN'T!)
But here's the thing:
When I was growing up in the '60s, every single town in America had some sort of public mental health clinic. I know this because my Mom worked at one, for nearly 20 years. There, you could walk in off the street, and get top notch psychiatric help--either free or very cheaply, depending on your income--and resources were in place to get you whatever help you needed, if your problems were immediate and severe enough.
Today, no such system even exists

Photograph © 2015 by Peter Rodman. All Rights Reserved.
That is the legacy of 'government cutbacks' and the whole 'right wing talk radio' notion that government is intrinsically bad and taxes are always too high, so let's just dismantle everything we do as a public, or strip it bare and 'privatize' it.
(Next up are public schools, already being drained to death by funds now being siphoned away to so-called 'charter schools.')
The issue of homelessness is directly related to the fact that we no longer have a system to deal with mental health issues.  In many cases, it's either prison or the streets. 

And THIS is 21st Century America?
Our generation has failed miserably, to build upon the marvelous stuff our parents (the 'Greatest Generation') put in place.
Now we're content to leave the homeless out on street corners, waving newspapers around that nobody reads and hardly anybody even takes...even if they sometimes buy 'em.
And on very cold nights, until or unless they get arrested, we figure it's good enough to let 'em sleep in convenience store bathrooms.
Hey, at least they've got Twizzlers and Slurpees there.


This opinion column is Copyright 2016 by Peter Rodman.  All Rights Reserved.