Mothball Uncle Festus Now

Watching the parade of grimaces, winces, eye rolls, smirks and snorts play out across John McCain's face during last night's debate, was like watching someone in the midst of a full out Tourette's episode. More and more John McCain reminds me of Great Uncle Festus (GUF). I suspect everyone has one. You know the really ancient, embittered elderly bachelor uncle, who smells like eau de cat pee and mothballs.

Great Uncle Festus is only brought out a few times a year, not because he lives so far away, but because that's about as often as anyone can stand to see him. Every year, despite numerous lectures, GUF launches into a tirade about the last great war, "D**n Hippies," and the good old days, when you could buy a Baby Ruth for a nickel. Well at least I can say this about him, GUF provides some fairly predictable entertainment, especially if you're into tragicomedy. He always leaves the kids' table in stiches.

Do I really need to say it out loud? Okay, I'll be the one to say it. It's time to put Uncle Festus on mothballs...now.