Three Stories About the Gold Buckskin Whincher isbn 978-1-894897-65-5

Cabin Fever will drive a man mad; not much to do at that point except to roll with it, read and/or write some crazy beautiful books, and wait till spring. Re: Buckskin Whinchers, they are for luck. A figment of Carl Sandburg's * imagination, and written in the good book, ‘Rootabaga Stories’ there are ‘Three Stories About the Power of the Gold Buckskin Whincher’. In the Rootabaga Country it is well known that different whinchers have different powers. I'm the sole distributor of trademark Buckskin Whinchers they are made in durable silicon bronze with sterling whinching posts. and are produced under exclusive contract with the worlds largest manufacturer. Accept no substitutes! For good luck and great gold buckskin whinching get a trademark Buckskin Whincher. Made to go round, at the nice round price $360. add $20. for shipping.

Carl Sandburg was a Pulitzer prize winning poet, he wrote the book on Abraham Lincoln. Carl Sandburg was likely Chicago’s greatest native son, he understood that town’s mythology and dedicated it to word, in the following...


HOG Butcher for the World,
Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders:
They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I
have seen your painted women under the gas lamps
luring the farm boys.
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it
is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to
kill again.
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the
faces of women and children I have seen the marks
of wanton hunger.
And having answered so I turn once more to those who
sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer
and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing
so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on
job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the
little soft cities;

Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning
as a savage pitted against the wilderness,
Building, breaking, rebuilding,
Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with
white teeth,
Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young
man laughs,
Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has
never lost a battle,
Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse.
and under his ribs the heart of the people,
Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of
Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog
Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with
Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.

** Update 18 August 2008

My Friend, Michael Oved Dyan of Helliwell Pictures, gave a Trademark Buckskin Whincher to a monk in Tibet. The monk then went into solitary confinement, to meditate for three years, three months and three days, with nothing but his robes and a Trademark Buckskin Whincher.