Red wing, my red wing.

AN actor can get away with endorsing products, because an actor is, damn it, an actor. Ah, but this immunity cannot reasonably stretch to opinion salesmen. Like me. But this leaves a hole in the life of an evangelist. We come upon wonderful things, gadding about as we do. And it is hell to keep such things to oneself. But always, the opinion-monger must decline pay: and must specify that ads using his name make the point. But since this is full-disclosure time, I need to acknowledge that I have stretched the line. When I discovered the joys of Red Wing peanut butter I could not contain my excitement, and even traveled to Fredonia, New York, to inaugurate their new roaster. Ever since, every month, I receive six jars of Red Wing peanut butter, three creamy, three crunchy. They are for me what Checkers was for Richard Nixon. No one will take my Red Wing from me.

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