Taking the cloth from the chicken feed to make a new dress, using the old coffee grinds as fertilizer, saving and re-using every single item you’ve ever bought until the cows come home, which happens at about 5:35 during Daylight Savings Time. Using the WWII draft to get out of college, using college to get out of the farm, using the farm to get out of doing laundry, using laundry to get out of scrubbing the floors. Using the floors as a cot because air conditioning doesn’t exist yet. Waiting until the last minute to walk to Mass because the veil is going to make your face sweat. Our Father, who art in Heaven, where ice cream is still five cents. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to thank our family members for helping us set up dinner. The Depression has ended, you may now go in peace. Peace be with us and with our sins, when we fed the dog under the table for the second time this week. The dog is our best friend and our bodyguard and our chickens’ bodyguard. The chickens are our alarm clock and our breakfast eggs over easy, and our grilled dinner, which we will save again tomorrow in the butter bowls. I address the atomic bomb and segregation in my graduation speech. My first semester at the school in Lafayette that will go through many identity crises was desegregated but we didn’t tell the reporters because we wanted to protect our classmates from protests. The revolution won’t be televised, but socialism will never work without God in our tax bracket.