don't take life so serious, son; it ain't nohow permanent.

LINES UPON A TRANQUIL BROW Have you ever, while pondering the ways of the morn Thought to save just a bit, just a drop in the horn To pour in the evening, or late afternoon, Or during the night, when we're shining the moon? Have you ever cried out, while counting the snow, Or watching the Tom-Tit warble "hello": Break out the cigars! This life is for squirrels! We're off to the drugstore to whistle at girls. Walt Kelly (1913-1973)