Tom Kowitz of Baldy and the Blonde writes me:
New Orleans Jazz Fest was spectacular this year. Springsteen was here, and Clapton, Santana, John Fogerty, Johnny Winter, and, of course, bureaucrats of the feral government.
On Sunday while at the Fogerty concert, I tried to buy two beers at a tent sent up by a local Kiwanis Club, but I was turned down because I didn’t have my leviathan-issued ID. I’m 53, but at that time on that day, I probably looked about 18. In dog years. I removed my hat and sunglasses, revealing alarmingly little hair and numerous wrinkles, but that did no good.
“I can’t sell to you if you don’t have ID.”
“I never carry my ID.”
“Then I can’t sell to you.”
“Per whose rules? Your club’s?”
“ATF.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous.”
And at this point, I swear, she looked worriedly over my shoulder and said, “ATF. They’re here.”
I’m not making this up.
I said, “The best thing to do with stupid rules is break them. We have to stand up to these people and break their stupid rules.”
“Sorry.”
And that was that.
9:32 am on May 6, 2014
