Ellington

Radio ads announced a once-every-four-year opportunity for free food: the GOP candidate forum to be held at the Sports Museum on Lakeland Drive. A sucker for free food, I have subjected myself over the years to fried string cheese, frozen egg rolls, stale chips and bland salsa at many a Happy Hour buffet. Since political party registration would not be checked at the door, I headed for the museum.

A buffet with barbecue (pork, of course), baked beans, cole slaw and dessert was set up at the far end of the room, causing one to walk through the throng of glad-handing, sticker-peeling politicians. By the time I reached the food, my shirt was so plastered with stickers it felt as if the cleaners had used extra starch. To their credit, the Republican candidates did not seem at all suspicious of me in spite of the fact I was the only male in the house with a ponytail.

The beans were spicy and not cold, and the cole slaw was creamy and sweet. Desserts—homemade, I believe—included lemon squares and brownies. I ate several. Sweet and unsweet tea were available. Does anyone drink unsweet tea?

While munching on the fare offered, I hoped to hear GOP candidates support small business, limited government and a repeal of the Patriot Act—all issues dear to my cold, Libertarian heart. Alas, the contenders offered statements about leadership and doing "better." The speeches were sufficiently vague so no clear standard could be used for measurement in four years. I did learn from the Republican contestant for attorney general that there aren't enough people in jail in Mississippi. It seems we are allowing an unusually large number of casual drug users to roam free, as well as those who speed on the one lousy road to the airport and the admittedly few who don't regularly attend church.

An undercurrent of conversation in the crowd derided "scum-sucking" trial lawyers. The absence of pond scum on the buffet may explain the low trial lawyer turnout. It may also explain the nonappearance of Mitch Tyner and Amy Tuck.

Gubernatorial candidate Haley Barbour spoke first. Immediately after his remarks, the microphone began to malfunction. This was my first in-person sighting of the governor wannabe, and I deduced he is not one of the millions who have joined the Atkins Revolution. Haley could stand to leave the lemon squares and brownies in a lockbox somewhere. Possibly he could donate his unused calories to poor children in the Delta. By the time he reached his ideal weight, he would have fed a family of four for two years.

Red Hot and Smoky

Disappointed with the GOP's "me, too" approach to politics, and full of brownies, I departed the Sports Museum for the best free food, free entertainment and the most politically incorrect event regularly presented in Jackson—Cigars Under the Stars. Held at various venues (Red Hot and Blue on County Line Road this date), Cigars Under the Stars offers aging baby boomers a chance to participate in a little nightlife fun before it gets too late, and depending on location, not exactly under the stars.

Here, amid voluminous second-hand smoke, I was not the only male, nor the oldest, in the room with a ponytail. Cigars Under the Stars is where the 40- to 60-year-old crowd meet and eat meat—men and women, black and white, ponytails and suits who wish they were ponytails. Hugs and handshakes indicate most of the attendees know each other. Recently at Schimmel's, the event was attended well-enough that golf carts were used to ferry people all the way from the Memorial Stadium parking lot.

Even the bands underscore the age of the crowd. Recent performers were the Sofa Kings and the Pates playing blues-infused rock covers from James Taylor to the Rolling Stones to B. B. King. No "boy bands," no alternative, and no heavy metal here.

The event is free except for the drinks and the cigars. The night of the GOP rally, the food at Red Hot and Blue was barbecue pork ribs, cherry tomatoes and other veggies with a ranch dip. While it does not sound like much, the ribs were tender and meaty, and there was an inexhaustible supply.

Cigars Under the Stars appeals to my Libertarian sensibilities—lots of tobacco smoke, fattening food, loud noise and alcohol, without one nosy bureaucrat or trial lawyer whining.

Take that, Mike Moore.