A Good Meal and A Better Bombshell.

Here's breaking news: There is a 10 dollar a plate gourmet cooking class prepared salmon and Caesar salad dinner tonight at 7:00 at the school, because the cross-country team  is heading to Anchorage for the state championships and they need, as always, to raise the funds to get there, since the school district doesn't budget for post season competition, which requires traveling about 800 miles each way- by air or van-- , a hotel stay, and meals on the road. (We  just can't afford to.) Now, I need to get back to work writing an essay for an anthology called "A Better Bombshell" in which writers are paired with visual artists to come up with some collaborative, clever, pithy,  funny, or wise take on this provocative topic.  My artist is painting an image of a serious  blond litttle girl holding an assault rifle. No doubt it is because I have three granddaughters, but I'm more sure than ever that there is no such thing as a better bombshell (both female and explosive). I hate to be so preachy, but they asked, and I'm just so weary of  the good old boys in charge and their politics of mysogney, racism, and perpetual war.  I'm sure if we spent as much money on education as we do on war bombshells of both types would be obsolete. What mother whispers to her little girl, "I hope you grow up to be the sexiest sharp shooter in your platoon?"

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