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Greetings to all. The deer are still in the swamp here in Parkinsaw, MI, and thought I'd pass this on while waiting for my drugs to kick in. It's mornings like this when I wish I had my own little porker genes growing happily in my brain. One of our fellow parkies up this way says he heard of a gentleman who had the pig cell transplant operation, and although he's doing quite well, he gets a headache every time his wife fixes roast pork or cooks bacon. But, in spite of these little piggery setbacks, it looks like this lowly animal, so often the butt of jokes throughout history, may finally have attained loftier fame other than the traditional oven and frying pan. Of course, if this works out, we'll have to change around one of our favorite nursery rhymes to something like: "This little pig went to market, this little pig stayed home, this little pig had roast beef and this little pig had none, and this little pig cried wee, wee, wee all the way home on account of just having his brain cells removed." John Bjork 60/20 (Big Time Tremor) Parkinsaw, MI A View from the Lighter Side