Tesla from Superpower to Nuts

Posted June 4, 2022 by mefeld
Categories: Uncategorized

Blinding you with Science with Nickola Tesla,

Screaming at you with the Sex Pistols in honor of Her Majesty on her Platinum,

and Wondering with you why an eco-terroist would cake the Mona Lisa

It’s just another Whad’ya Know? —

Tesla Tower of Power

Supremes Greatest Hits

Posted June 28, 2022 by mefeld
Categories: Uncategorized

Supreme’s Greatest Hits, Clarence Thomas, conducting, and All the News That Isn’t

On Feldman Pond

Posted June 22, 2022 by mefeld
Categories: Uncategorized

                                            On Feldman Pond:

                                          or  The Life Pondemic



“I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time.

To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating.

I love to be alone.

I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.”

‘Tis a backyard, still, having no pond as of yet (“we’re not zoned

 transcendental,” Feldman quips) as we come upon Feldman Pond very much in

 ‘needs a lot of TLC’ mode,’ as does our solitary vagabond,  perhaps lacking

 Thoreau’s handyman skills needed to sustain meditative life twixt house and


          Would Henry David Thoreau, himself, have had difficulty adjusting to

the life solitary without the food, clothing, shelter and fuel supplied by the Ralph

Waldo Emerson’s upon whose Concord lawn he decamped?

          Skills with axe, sledge and knife aside, what of the transcendental skills,

the cognition and recognition?   Should our Feldman be no Henry David Thoreau,

seeking ‘not to die having not lived,’  might he be the Jiminy Cricket of “the still,

 small voice that people don’t listen to”?


          Feldman Pond, in “pondemic times:” all around cocooned, traffic

unnaturally calmed, little commerce save the occasional barking dog and the pedal

to metal screech of Toyota Supra MK 4’s.    

          We come upon Feldman hunkered down in ill-advised and ill-fitting surplus

desert camo, nose to breeze, smelling, perhaps, what it means to be human in this

backyard Forest Primeval, this not-so Primordial Ooze, this Parallel Universe, this

Madison, the small still voice within saying what the heck was I thinking, answered only by the Beag-a-

Poo Bella’s subtle turns of head towards the house she longs to get back into.


Here, the simple, yet profound, child’s wading pool water-element in lieu of pond ; there, a scraggly

hackberry run amuck ‘twixt clothes-pole and garage leaning a good 20 degrees towards Some Truth–

now a motion-light warns of passersby passing by, unseen, uninvited, uninterested, while our Feldman,

lost in thoughtlessness, aware yet oblivious, squats prayer-like and tags the outline of his left hand, like

cave dweller of old, onto the vinyl siding of his former life, abandoned for this habit, this Good Earth of a Guy’s Own.

          Here Pond is the metaphor and, simultaneously, simile.

          Verily, few things teem with the Metaphorical like Pond;

          Thoreau dipped brush in Pond and painted aphorisms while Pond did the writing,

for Pond teems with is , like, as , with non causa pro causas, unexpected turns of phrase,

mood, coloration, surface tension, dappling, waves if there’s any

kind of wind, bubbles coming from who knows what or where, the methane of Poseidon?

          Pond, friend, ally and enemy, its depths your depths, its shallows

 your shallows,  concentric circles of stones skipped towards infinity, towards the divinity of Nature.

          Boy, this place needs a pond.

For now Feldman must cast his bread upon a wading pool, dangling his line in

the aphoristic, awaiting the Homily kicking with insect legs like a Jesus Bug across

its liquid dramatic tension.

So far, this catch in his creel:

“A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to borrow.”

“We say time is short, yet time, by definition, is always on time.”

“Beware of all enterprises that require enterprise, and all sentences that begin with


“If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because of his

 short stride.”

“I should not talk so much about myself were there anybody else around.”

“I would rather sit on a pumpkin than squash.”

“Ignore the still, small voice telling you to kill coming from your dog.”

“It’s not what you look at in life that matters, it’s what looks back.”

“Our life is frittered away with fritters.”

“The price of anything is the amount of money you pay for it.”  

“We must walk consciously to our goal and skedaddle the heck back before dark.”

 “In human intercourse tragedy begins not with misunderstanding about

 words, but with misunderstanding about intercourse.”

“What is once well done is done until it needs well-doing again.”

and “The Solitary Life could use a few Bells and Whistles.”

          For now Feldman blows out the butane torch used for both light and heat,

 curls up in refrigerator box filled with packing nuts, and, pulling the tarp over self and pup,

 dreams of what will fill his notebooks once Pond fills in.

Profile in Courage (2)

Posted June 10, 2022 by mefeld
Categories: Uncategorized

Profile in Courage (2)

          In his defense, although he wanted to, President Trump did not march down and break into the Capitol with them, he merely kept an eye on justice being served with burgers and Cokes on the giant flat screen where Washington crossing the Delaware used to be.

Now in a place of honor in the Mar-a-Lago lobby.

Anyway, there’s not a Trump judge anywhere who would convict him on that.

The Trump defense in a nutsell: Inaction is not Action.

You can not commit an inaction. Try it. See?

True, he didn’t lift a finger to stop it but, hey, he was jockeying his attention between the peaceful and patriotic capitol march and the Sentry PGA Tournament at the Plantation Course on Maui, which should’ve been at Bedminster, his course in New Jersey.

That’s what the so called missing phone calls were all about– the slight to Bedminster and to New Jersey–he was still on the phone for a week after Jan 6 until his ears was hot–and he was on speaker dealing with that miscarriage of justice.

Nothing has been more misinterpreted than “Be there, will be wild,” is just something very Trump Presidential he told all Americans (of a certain persuasion) about this upcoming watershed moment in American history.

Had Nixon said “be there, will be wild” about Woodstock the crowds would have been even larger and his legacy would’ve been assured.

Trump was spot on when he told the huge crowd, twice the crowd MLK had  around the reflecting pool,  “Republicans are always fighting like a boxer with his hands tied behind his back.”  Ok, should’ve been like boxer(s) but the fact is that’s true–that’s why the seats had been empty at Republican boxing matches before Trump–who wants to see a no punches thrown boxing match?

Sonny Liston was a Republican fighter. Went down in the first.

Nobody, nobody, ever, ever, mentions that it was President Trump who said “we want to be so respectful of everybody, including bad people.”

Surpasses anything Martin Luther King said, who never, ever, said to be respectful of bad people. Au contraire.

Respectuful of everybody including bad people is the title of President Trump’s campaign book for 2024, Profiles in Carnage, er, Courage 2 which author Ted Cruz says will be out by the November elections–and remember, Ted Cruz’s mother was close to JFK. Very.

Furthermore, it’s just common sense to know you can’t take bake anything that’s been taking from you with weakness.

That’s way there’s nothing remotely inciting, exciting yes, about President Trump’s profound “You’ll never take back our country with weakness.”

It means be strong in your faith of doing what’s only right, it doesn’t mean shit on Pelosi’s desk, perhaps, or hang Mike Pence.

I mean who hasn’t wanted to hang Mike Pence–it’s pretty much of everybody’s

reaction to Pence. I mean he calls his wife Mother. Don’t want to know why.

Doesn’t mean you’ll actually lynch him. I mean that noose they kept on showing on a flimsy 2 by 4 (quote) gallows (unquote) would never hold him. Let along Mother.

Not to put too fine a point on it, I mean even with Mussolini–a much heavier guy than Pence–they had to hang him from a gas station sign (upside down–Sicilian thing I guess) and those signs are built to last.

You still see standing Cities Service and Sinclair signs around–love that Dinosaur one.

Never mentioned, ever, by Trump-haters, is all the overarching kindness and caring the beautiful and historic throng showed one another–the helping through smashed windows, the defensive use of bear spray to free fallen comrades, the reusing of found materials for self -defense protection against armed federales.

This was, truly, Woodstock for Patriots.

What’s the so-called worst thing that the president said to his minions? —

Speaking of the brave senators and congressmen and women–note–

 “. . . maybe we will not be cheering on some of them“–but why would you cheer anybody on, anywhere, for not being brave?

Yes, in one of his many phone calls to Mike Pence inveighing him to “do the right thing”–which we’ve all been inveighed to do — he told him, just to make it easier for Mike to do the right thing  “Mike, that doesn’t take courage. What takes courage is to do nothing. That takes courage.”

Just the courage, I might add although the president, himself, would never, that profile in courage that number 45 and 47 , our President Almighty, Donald J Trump showed the nation in Doing Nothing.Thank you–and God Bless the United States of Trump

Everything is Wrong/Nothing is Right

Posted May 26, 2022 by mefeld
Categories: Uncategorized


I’m Torn between Everything is Wrong and  Nothing is Right.

Everything is Wrong can be accused of overstatement,

While Nothing is Right is more of a point of view

and everybody’s entitled to their point of view.

Everything is Wrong can be proven wrong by something- anything– going right.

while Nothing is Right may just be feelings, nothing more than feelings.

 Everything is Wrong cries out ‘make something right!‘,

whereas with nothing being right there’s nothing to be done.

Everything is Wrong suffers from the inference that once upon a time,

                      some-thing or -things was or were Right,

All you can infer from positing Nothing is Right is somebody’s depressed, a medical condition, and therefore, neither right nor wrong nor, with that                                                                                                   attitude, mister, treatable.

Paradoxes abound on both sides of the divide: If Everything is wrong you are, so, advantage Nothing is Right where you’re right even though wrong.

Upon casual dissection both Wrong and Right are found to suffer from their Talmudic, Greek and Gospel implications and limitations which ignore scores of other cultures’ philosophies, superstitions and prejudices even as the terms Everything and Nothing swing from mood and time of day–

Leaving you torn between Everything is Wrong and Nothing is Right.


Posted May 21, 2022 by mefeld
Categories: Uncategorized

          While it may have been an unintended consequence of the Spartan yet over-reaching state budget of defunded mandates and vestigial unions, Wisconsissippi’s transition to a Southern state of mind begins to appear, Bless Betsy, about as natural as nature intended. I don’t just mean the slower pace on the street despite wind chills likely to freeze your boiled peanuts, or even the lingering doorway goodbyes that have all but replaced the abrupt “later’s” once common to these parts, but the very notion that maybe we had been saving at the spigot and letting it run out the bunghole, something a body cannot abide. 

          The very countryside is changing in America’s Beulahland, from the stately pole-barn manor home on a soybean plantation in Brule, to a once troubled dairy farm in Richland Center, now in cotton, to the sounds of barge totin’ and bale liftin’ from the banks of the mighty Kinnikinnick. The corn that used to go into feed (we still keep a few cows, for ornamental purposes, along the highway) go straight into hominy. It’s no small point of pride that pretty near every dollar saved on teacher and public worker benefits have gone into stocking the catfish farms, which are going pretty good, even if the fish tend to dice when you blow ’em up to the silo. The magnolias may be struggling but the kudzu has pushed all the way up to the UP.  

          Folks are changing as well, having adopted Southern mannerisms, such as ancestor worship, so that we now tailgate in the graveyard in Ashwaubenon before Packer games, and we hold onto all of our last names on both sides: the Des Peres phone book is filled with John Peterson Hanson Johnson’s and all the permutations. “Wixie” is played at every  game and Nascar event, although we’re not supposed to sing the words due to sensibilities. Priorities have been readjusted in education: at our crown jewel university, Ole Wis, the mission today is less sifting and winnowing and more blocking and tackling.

          The benefits have been mutual, we’d like to think, now that our progenitor, the Great State of Mississippi, no longer axiomatically comes in 50th in education, health care and social services. Since the rise of Wisconsissippi, the ejaculation “Thank God for Alabama!” we’re told, has just about disappeared from casual discourse at Bumper’s Drive-In in Yazoo City. For us, of course, the hope is to share in the promised bounty, the day when our workers paradise will attract a Hyundai, or a Kia, or a Ginsu Knife. To date, there’s just the  Payday America and a couple of Waffle Houses (for us, taking your grits the hard way). We firmly believe in the principle “deconstruct it and they will come,” and don’t, for a moment, miss the entitlements of the “Forward” days of thinly-veiled Scandinavian socialism–it’s like Big Daddy says, “Forward depends on which way you’re facing.” And we’re heading South.          

                                                                                                                     Michael Feldman

The Autumn Leaf Blower

Posted October 20, 2021 by mefeld
Categories: Uncategorized

With apologies to the great Nat King Cole

Posted August 18, 2021 by mefeld
Categories: Uncategorized

If Olive Oyl Were Reinstated as President

Aggie Tippery, chronicler of Hokah, MN

Posted April 30, 2021 by mefeld
Categories: Uncategorized


I was often asked, at one time, who was my favorite person I interviewed in the four score & 7 years on Whad’ya Know and I often would say, well Kurt Vonnegut because he was hilarious and because he was Kurt Vonnegut (whose reason for writing was “So I could feed my Goddamn family”! — do you capitalize God in that usage?) and of course Paula Poundstone when we caught her in with a bag of miniatures in a flight lounge at O’Hare, but.

Sorry just had to end that sentence somehow.

But, by and large, or rather no doubt about, it was Aggie Tippery, from Hokah, MN, she with the sons Tip, Tip, Tip Tip and Grub and husband with the Superman blue eyes, Ivan, who swept her away on his Hog.

And, Aggie’s a great reason to catch the 11-12-2005 La Crosse Whad’ya Know show now playing on the Whad’ya Know Podcast page facebook.com/whadyaknow.net/

and Whad’ya Know Podcast @iTunes

and on soundcloud. com and on this very page: https://soundcloud.com/whadyaknowpodcast/whadya-know-with-aggie-tippery-3-12-2005

Number 1 Song of ’21! Lyle Sacks Troy!

Posted April 23, 2021 by mefeld
Categories: Uncategorized

Marion Harris Sings ” I Ain’t Got Nobody”–We beg to differ!

Marion Harris dazzles with number 1 for ’21—1921 that is– on this Saturday’s Whad’ya Know,

while Lyle Anderson goes all You Are There from the Trojan Horse on the April 24, 1158 B.C. anniversary

of the Greek sacking of Troy, all because Paris had a thing for Helen (whose face, after all, launched ships).

Only on the Whad’ya Know Podcast at 10 am Central, around midnight in Seoul, right here:


and just about anytime on @iTunes podcasts, Soundcloud.com & whadyaknow.net

Whad’ya Know Podcast: We’re All Over the Place!