"Uncle Sam’s Big Bowl of Breakfast Meats" A Modest Proposal for Magazine or Great Meal

Fawcett Publishing was founded by Capt. Wilford Hamilton Fawcett – Capt. Billy, a Spanish American War and WWI veteran. It began with a magazine dedicated to humor, snappy stories, cute girls, gadgets and games. Capt. Billy’s Whiz Bang took its title from a shrapnel shell that would blow-up over the heads of troops. Rather ghoulish that was, considering that Capt. Billy’s audience happened to be veterans of the Great War who endured the horrors of head wounds. Imagine a veteran of Iraq, or Afghanistan putting out a magazine entitled Laughs from an Improvised Explosive Device (IED.

As a dedicated and devout craven, my sense of irony tends toward the more wholesome and manly pursuits of the heaping board – a table loaded with eats. Patriotism and ripping yarns often meet over platters of meat. Nothing makes an American whose forebears left the hunger and despair of Lebanon, Poland, Norway, Liberia, Latvia, Lithuania, or the Philippines more Teddy Roosevelt than a good porterhouse or rack of lamb. At LaLumiere School, alma mater of Chief Justice John Roberts and comic actor Jim Gaffigan, I once asked my students to write an essay about which bird other than the American Eagle might best represent America.



Patrick Costello of Evanston, IL argued and wrote that America's iconic bird should be a Turkey – not the feathered living idiot who drowns himself during rainstorms, but the cooked, whole roasted feast. A+, my Boy! Uncle Sam would be proud. Uncle Sam the founder of the feast.

I would like to publish a monthly periodical dedicated to Uncle Sam’s America – if, to parallel to the movies of recent but popular culture, you’re in any way of the mind-set and character of Apollo Creed from Rocky; Bill the Butcher from Gangs of New York, Wes Studi in anything, or Gloves Donahue from All Through The Night and Meryl Streep as Sister Aloysius Beauvier then YOU are on my team.

Let’s have a wildly patriotic – nay jingoistic - magazine published by a draft-dodging coward for combat vets, lumber Jacks and Jills, and Guys and Dolls who pour gravy on everything without a second thought. I want to call this magazine –Uncle Sam’s Big Bowl of Breakfast Meats – that should give you some idea of the direction that our literary musings should take.

Paul Bunyan Portions for Thought: My Dream Team and topics ( maximum 600 words per month) – all articles, poems and features must make a flattering reference to our country, our history, our people, our way of life, our cuisine, and, or Uncle Sam would all be managed and edited by the likes of Dan McGrath, John Hector, Marcus Pass and Susan Jordan.

• Luggage, Safety and Packing Tips from the White House – Larry Lynch U.S. Secret Service (retired)
• Visual Arts - Sister Wendy Beckett
• Religion - Father Tony Brankin and Elias Crim
• Nutrition and Health with AFL/NFL Football Hall of Famers and Legends Art Donovan*and Dick Butkus

* Voila! Art Donovan!

• Dance – Tough one - gotta find a real hoofer
• Poetry – Chicago’s J.J. Tindall
• Media and Pop Culture – Steve Rhodes and Anne Leary
• Law –Tamara Holder and Chief Justice of Illinois(ret.) Thomas Fitzgerald
• Theatre - Robert Falls Tony Moskus and Kara Zediker
• Your Dollars, Investments Gold, Guns, and Ammo – Ms. Terry Savage and Mr. Ted Nugent
• Medical & Neurological Breakthroughs – Jay Cutler Chicago Bears and Dr. Tom Origitano M.D. Loyola University
• Education K-20 – Ben Stein
• Humor – Joseph Epstein
• Film – Mike Houlihan & Michael Moriarty
• B&Bs with Dave Sambler of Bridgeport B & Bs
• Butcher Chat – Mike Benson of County Fair Foods
• Travel – Any Retired Stewardess with at least 25 years on the job with United/American/Southwest and Steve Jordan, former VP of Bank of Singapore
• Inner City Life – Levois
• Weather for the Month – Michele Leigh definitely.
• Politics and Government – Rep. Dan Lipinski Skinny Sheahan & Dan Kelley
• Chicago and National Nightlife – Nick Novich
• Sports with Dr. Camille Paglia **and Sox Pitching Great Bart Johnson – Dr. Paglia’s article of the decline of TO in Philly rocks from 2005:

**Philadelphia Eagles fans have been living in a jock soap opera -- "All My Children" surreally crossed with "Die! Die! My Darling!" Star wide receiver Terrell Owens arrived in a cloud of tainted glory from the San Francisco 49ers last year and took this city to delirious heights as the Eagles marched to the Super Bowl, their first appearance there in 24 years. Streaking downfield into the end zone in game after game, Owens (called "T.O.") danced, cavorted and mugged to the ecstatic delight of a Philadelphia crowd that had been starved for trash and flash in the drearily corporate era of nerdy Eagles owner Jeffrey Lurie. . . .Goodbye, Terrell -- wherever you're headed. Thanks for the memories, but as a fierce funk song says, "Just let the doorknob hit you where the dog shoulda bit you!"
Que Mujer!

America is no where near past its prime and glory, Let’s drop the texting and get in some eating, bowling, travelling, reading and writing.