Very little warms the cockles of my heart more than a good possum story. Today the WSJ did the trick (and while there may be a way to link to the story I cannot find one). On the front page is the title
"Possums are playing upside-down role in Florida eletions.
Apparently the lowly possum is a required pol toy in Florida. Just imagine that. Follow over the fold for more meat.
Katherine Harris, the Florida congresswoman, U.S. Senate candidate and controversial former secretary of state, dangled a live possum by its tail. Other candidates waited their turns.
The 37th annual Fun Day and Possum Festival was underway. Candidates do their customary thing kissing babies and shaking hands before holding up a marsupial for the obligatory possum picture.
Don't let it crawl up your arm and bite
is a customary admonition. Any person who ever tangled with a live possum will recognize the wisdom of that advice. While they may pretend to be dead as a defense mechanism the creature can scratch and bite with the best of them.
Perhaps the best parts of the story have to do with possum dinner.
...tastes like chicken. (snip) That's a bad chicken.
My lone experience suggests they taste just about as bad as they smell. Nothing good about cooked possum under the best of circumstances.
The town of Wausua is about 90 miles west of Tallahassee. With a population of 411, the town apparently has more possums about than humans. The locals recommend possum fried, stewed, baked, and so on. Must not be much to eat in Wausua these days.
The killer line of the article goes like this:
There's a direct correlation between possums and politicians. They get into office and they play possum--then every election they go out and pretend to be something else.
Fine words. An apt description for certain.