Here’s a story from Aesop:
“One bright day in late autumn a family of Ants were bustling about in the warm sunshine, drying out the grain they had stored up during the summer, when a starving Grasshopper, his fiddle under his arm, came up and begged for a bite to eat.
‘What!’ cried the Ants in surprise, ‘haven’t you stored anything away for the winter? What in the world were you doing all last summer?’
‘I didn’t have time to store up any food,’ whined the Grasshopper; ‘I was so busy making music that before I knew it the summer was gone.’
The Ants shrugged their shoulders in disgust.
‘Making music, were you?’ they cried. ‘Very well; now dance!’ And they turned their backs on the Grasshopper and went on with their work.”
Fellow human Patrick Newman likes to take up his fiddle, damning those of us “housed” individuals for our “materialism.” Well, winter is coming Mr. Newman, it’s time to put down your tiny violin, and get to work.
I have to ask — who wouldn’t have known that Comanche Creek would flood as soon as it started to rain? With rain coming next week, and shanties propped in flood zones all over Chico, our city staff and council are caught with their Shelter Crisis Designation hanging around their ankles.
Old Yiddish Proverb: When the fish stinks, it’s the head of the fish. Our Chico fish has eight stinking heads — council, and manager Mark Orme.
Something certainly stinks around here.
— Juanita Sumner, Chico