OrangeBean Indiana

Like many disasters, fisheries in the US can only shake their head in humility at the watery wildfire of Asian carp, since fisheries originally introduced the species to southern catfish farms in the 1970s.

If a state’s got a resource to brag about, I’d rather it be stone composed of crushed, fossilized marine life than a piece of fruit. Just saying.

We cannot conceive of the iron guts it took to climb into those Mercury capsules, which were nothing more than steel cans packed with instruments, perched atop a tower boiling with thousands of gallons of ethyl alcohol.

Many had tumbled off the deck into the river wearing the heavy, layered clothes typical of the era, and littered the water in a panicked, struggling mass. But hundreds were trapped below decks to drown or be killed by the sudden shifting of the ship’s fixtures and cargo.

Past reason, past purpose, the two sides continued the desperate battle, stoked with fresh bodies by Grant and Lee. For hundreds of yards, bodies were piled four deep and used like fleshy staircases to reach the enemy.

Walking down Kirkwood, a homeless man, panhandling for change, set down his cup, pointed at me and and gleefully called out “Hey man, you look JUST like Elvis!”