Scruggs Nation, Day 45: the reckoning
This thing in Mississippi is starting to rock around and bounce like a pressure cooker with no safety valve and the burner underneath turned up to flamethrower level. Feels like it’s about ready to blow up and spray strawberry preserves and shrapnel all over the kitchen. They say if you can’t stand the heat — or the explosions — get out of the kitchen. But when the feds are the ones who invited you into the room, it’s not like a movie, where if you don’t like the show you get up and leave. They tend to get very — what’s the word I’m looking for here? — upset if you try to check out without leaving a little something behind. Admission costs you nothing, but dang, that exit fee? It’s pretty steep. Your gut is full like you just dined on a heavy meal where the main courses were fear, terror and panic. If you got invited and you’ve got something to throw on the table, you empty your pockets to get out before that lid blows. If you left your chips in your other pants, or you’re the feds’ guest of honor, well . . . . You know what happens.
Insurance Coverage Blog
1/11/8
Magnolia Tribune
