One of the more scenic neighborhoods in the Fox Valley is at odds over a real cock, a rooster named Jake. The rooster has been doing what roosters do - cock-a-doodle-doing its finely feathered head off every morning at the break of dawn – and throughout the rest of the day for that matter. The Neenah common council recently deadlocked 4-4 over Jake’s fate, not exactly a stay of execution because Jake isn’t facing THAT kind of fate, but a temporary reprieve from his possible relocation. Nonetheless some locals are offering to, er, serve up a solution the old fashioned way.

Something to chew on:

People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) has named Lambeau Field, the home venue of the professional football team named in honor of meat packers, as one of the top five stadiums for vegetarian fare, citing the stadium's veggie bratwurst and healthy kids meals of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and baby carrots in their citation.

Big changes at the Fair Oaks Diner. Girding my loins to sit down at the counter I noticed new menus had been stuffed in the little silver thingees where menus gets stuffed. New menus. At the Fair Oaks. This was intriguing not just for the fact that no printed menu in the history of the Fair Oaks has ever been used by the clientele. I mean, we’re talking an old diner, typically filled with old people. Eggs, pancakes, omelets, BLTs, what the hell else is there? The daily special on the chalkboard hasn’t been changed since the Eisenhower administration.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa, as my high school Latin instructor was fond of saying (for reasons we can only imagine).

Through my most grievous fault I have strayed from updating thy blog. My only excuse is the historic trouncing of the Chicago Bears left me giddier than a Somalian pirate on a Saudi oil tanker. Victory was made sweeter by the revelation days later that the Bears had created a glory hole in the wall of the visiting team locker room at Lambeau Field, proving once and for all the Bears still do what the Bears do best.

It's Bear week in Titletown.

Somewhere there's a guy driving around town with a stuffed bear strapped to the grill of his pickup truck, an arrow shoved up the animal's ass for good measure. Friendly horn honking greets the driver, who smiles and waves like the coverall-clad king of the homecoming parade.

The only thing missing from that game was a kicker named Fuad.

Gather ‘round, kids, Mr. B has his toddy warmed up, and in honor our great quadrennial exercise in democracy (I’m talking about the election for those of you reading in Elgin), I’d like to share a reading from a classic work of American political literature in which Wisconsin played a memorable role.

The setting is the Sheraton-Schroeder Hotel in downtown Milwaukee, circa 1972.

A reading from “Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail 72” by Dr. Hunter S. Thompson:

There are buildings in the state that transcend mere brick and mortar and stand as touchstones in our collective Wisconsin experience -- Lambeau Field, the Capitol, the bathrooms at Summerfest -- places that, God forbid, if they ever went away, we would never quite fill the void left in our hearts.

This is not about one of them.

It won't be long.

One hundred and fifteen years ago Grover Cleveland became president, Thomas Edison patented the “incandescent electric lamp,” and two Wisconsin college football teams met to beat the living hell out of one another.

Think I’m exaggerating on that last point?

The early matches between Lawrence University and Ripon College were described as nothing less than “pugilistic,” and that was putting a nice spin on it.