I'm still alive and well, much to the chagrin of all who are seething with ire due to last week's CLP column.

Staying on the subject of the opening line for just a moment, I actually had positive feedback in terms of said column. Now, if you haven't a clue of what I speak, first of all, shame upon you for not reading it and second of all, well, there really isn't a second of all.

This week I thought I'd slow things down a bit and impart an adorable story to you. Don't panic as I am not going to cause massive cavities to sprout across the reading region. I wouldn't want to ruin my reputation, plus, can you imagine?

Several weeks ago I schlepped off to retrieve my van from its weekly slumber party at the mechanic's house. On the way home I was navigating violently and wildly on a back road, which shall remain nameless for upcoming obvious reasons, when I saw something so shocking, so out of the ordinary, so gripping that I came to a screeching halt.

In doing so, all items in my “hippie-style-campmobile” rushed forward. After removing the latrine from my head and extracting a Mexican poncho from my dashboard, I backed up in order to ascertain if I was having some sort of freakish vision.

Do I have your attention yet? I'm trying my darnedest to keep you involved in this blather and it's exhausting me to the max.

Moving along, I simply couldn't believe my eyes because...here it comes....before me stood a child waving a pitcher of lemonade in the manner of one directing incoming air traffic.

Now, when is the last time you took in such a Norman “Rockwell-esque” portrait of Americana at its best?

I'm quite certain that I terrified the lad as my van is white, which is ALWAYS the color of vehicles used by criminals to kidnap children. Not to mention, but I will, it is decorated to the extreme like the Mystery Machine of Scooby Doo fame, and puts one in the mind of a band of traveling gypsies cruising down the road. No offense to our gypsy readership, of course.

The child was totally precious right down to the smear of chocolate on his face and the family dog at his feet.

I asked the price, which was fifty cents, (even though a chalk menu in the driveway said twenty five cents), gave him a quarter tip and engaged in some light banter with his father before zooming off.

This whole darling scene could soon go by the wayside, as lemonade stands across this over-regulated-yet-fine-nation of ours are being squeezed out, (get it?), by governmental regulatory male bovine excrement.

Of course, it all has to do with insane regulations since, really, what do municipal big shots have to do in their spare time other than conjure asinine laws?

In other words, kids are being forced by certain authorities to shut down operations or obtain some kind of permit in order to peddle their wares.

To be fair, I haven't checked the PA situation so I have no clue if the above-mentioned child is a corrupt-citrus-criminal in the eyes of the law or not.

Since this might seem unbelievable to the readership, I've decided to provide additional information pertaining to the blight on our country that IS the horrific tot-run lemonade stand. (I mean really, we cannot tolerate such hideous goings on in our towns. This is the worse thing to come along since the meth lab reared its revolting noggin.)

The following was obtained from Forbes online and can be viewed in its entirety by going to forbes.com. My copying and pasting efforts shall kill two birds because it will provide more info and will save me the time of actually penning an entire piece. I am nothing if not brilliantly lazy.

Here are some excerpts from an article called, “The Inexplicable War on Lemonade Stands,” by Erik Kain.

“In Georgia, police shut down a lemonade stand run by three girls who were saving money to go to a water park. Police said the girls needed a business license, a peddler’s permit, and a food permit to operate the stand, which cost $50 per day or $180 per year each, sums that would quickly cut into any possible profit-margin.

“In Appleton, Wisconsin the city council recently passed an ordinance preventing vendors from selling products within two blocks of local events – including kids who want to sell lemonade or cookies.

“These are hardly isolated incidents. From slapping parents with $500 fines for letting their kids run unlicensed lemonade stands (though this was later waived after public outcry), to government officials calling the cops on kids selling cupcakes, the list goes on and on and on.”

So, there you have that. There is no way, in a week of Thursdays, that any parent with the brains of a turnip would pay such an exorbitant fee, all in the name of a lemonade stand.

Plus, I simply cannot fathom the thought of a supposed concerned citizen, (aka, a person with too much time on his hands and/or a busybody or a yenta, as we call it in Jewish circles), calling the police for such an innocent act of, well, being a kid.

What harm is selling lemonade causing society at large, or small, for that matter? Do local governmental bodies really think they can cash in on fees for such things as lemonade stands? Honestly, this is all completely out-of-control, if you ask me and you never really do.

I think I've bloviated all I can about this most pressing issue of our time. Plus, I am gathering a special team of law enforcement as I've caught wind of a child-led bake sale that is unfolding somewhere here in Crawford County. I must dash in order to put an end to this exceedingly threatening undertaking.

THE END.