No matter the problem, the solution is a good wall

Let's start by revisiting a couple of issues that seem to have died down a bit in our favorite river city.

We haven't heard much about marauding deer and cackling hens in recent days, have we?

Well, surely we can do something about that.

It occurs to me that events unfolding on the national front may hold lessons we should be heeding. In particular, I think one major proposal in Washington may be worth scaling down to fit our own urban needs.

In short, we need a wall.

And someone else should pay for it.

Look. We already have a grand start on a wall that could, in time, encircle the entire city. The floodwall has proven its effectiveness in keeping the mighty Mississippi River from turning our historic downtown into a modern aquarium.

But here's the best part. As far as I know no deer has ever hopped over the floodwall. So we have learned a valuable lesson: If you want a wall that really works, look no further than the stretch of reinforced concrete that keeps us dry during floods.

Not only would a full-blown fortification keep out those pesky deer, it would, of course, keep the egg layers in. No need to keep hens cooped up. Let them roam freely, which would mean better eggs, right? Or is that just better-marketed eggs? Like brown-shell eggs. Are they really better?

But let's stay on track. Based on current estimates of the bill we intend to send to Mexico for the lengthy border wall between our two sovereign nations (nearly a trillion smackeroos), the cost of building a deer-proof, hen-holding wall around the fair environs of Cape Girardeau would be, at least, half a billion dollars.

Which we don't have.

But which we don't need, since the pattern is for someone else to pay for our walls.

But who?

The answer is fairly obvious. Whenever we have expenses we don't care to cover, we just send a bill to Mexico. We could dun Canada, but right now we're still on speaking terms with the folks to our north. That could change. Just look at all the other adjustments we've had to make in the past year.

The candy man

Recently I reminded all of you that the proper etiquette when making candy in your home kitchen includes lavish sharing.

It's good to know some of you were paying attention.

Especially my new best friend, Ken.

It turns out I've known Ken for a long time. We've had morning coffee at the same eateries off and on for years. But it wasn't until Sunday morning that I officially met Ken, who is an absolutely delightful fellow.

He brings 95 years of experience to his friendliness. And that includes dropping off a sack full of pecan-and-chocolate goodies that Ken makes every year -- about 50 pounds. And he shares the candy generously.

Ken told me he took enough candy to Cracker Barrel, where he has breakfast almost every Sunday, to share with all the employees. Guess who one of their favorite customers is.

As it turns out, my wife and I went to Cracker Barrel for lunch this past Sunday. Guess who was seated at an adjoining table. Yes, Ken was enjoying a great deal of attention and affection from the servers.

That's the way life ought to be for 95-year-old candy makers with big hearts. Thanks, Ken Haas, for including me in your generosity.

Boiled corn beef?

A happy St. Patrick's Day to all -- with a warning.

Why would you eat boiled corned beef, boiled cabbage and boiled potatoes all at the same time on purpose?

If you insist on eating something that fools you into thinking you're dining on an Irish favorite, at least put it into a palatable form. Like a toasted Reuben sandwich. Which is as American as apple pie -- and edible, at least.

If you're going to eat fake Irish food on St. Patrick's Day, why not make something that everyone will like?

That would be candy, wouldn't it?

Joe Sullivan is the retired editor of the Southeast Missourian.