On my recent week-long western sojourn, free beer came my way many times. Twice at restaurants in Albuquerque, the server neglected to put our beers on the bill. I related this story to a friend, who thought I faced some sort of ethical dilemma. He thought we should have pointed out the oversight to the server. He's wrong, of course. As the ancient Mesopotamian saying goes, "It is a sin against Morgoth to refuse free beer."

Maybe that proverb is Babylonian rather than Mesopotamian. I get them confused.

Later in the week, my brothers and I had three rounds at the Wynkoop brewpub in Denver. We'd tasted the various beers on tap in pint quantities (those sampler glasses just don't hold enough for a real taste, y'know), and as the bartender delivered the tab, he told us he was picking up the third round. This was very smart business for him, as we bought a growler later that evening and then two more the next day.

In short, free beer is good. It expands commerce, promotes generosity of spirit and makes people happy. We should all get free beer from time to time.

Of late, I'm feeling more and more in need of free beer. On the radio this afternoon, I heard a retired general (who in a previous lifetime was an advisor to Donald Rumsfeld) describe the situation in Iraq as "hopeless." Many Republicans in Congress are prepared to purge their offices of all gay staffers in some sort of twisted Mark Foley backlash. The Chiefs fell behind Arizona 14-0 before I could even blink (or change the station on the radio as we were driving back into town). The Hurricanes may be the defending Stanley Cup champions, but they've lost their first three games in ugly fashion. And, oh yeah, Buck O'Neil died.

On the plus side, the Yankees bombed out of the playoffs. And Mizzou is 6-0 for the first time since I was 3 (and didn't care about them). And the Chiefs ended up beating the Cardinals. And, you know, even in death you can't feel bad for Buck O'Neil.

Hell, I'll raise a beer or few paid for with my own money to O'Neil, one of the true good people in the history of the world. The man who professed no bitterness over segregation, relegation to the Negro Leagues or even being passed over by the Baseball Hall of Fame is someone whose memory should always make one smile. That was his oft-spoken wish, and I'm happy to do my own little part in granting it.

As for the national political scene, I'm beginning to think I need free liquor rather than free beer. A pint of free liquor. Every day.

The stench of failure is palpable from where I sit, and every morning I look out my window expecting to see smoke rising from the south, proof that some sane person has blown up the White House. I'm completely opposed to making the Prez a martyr to ineptitude and failure, but I know too many people who have no qualms about such a thing. They won't do anything, of course; they have severe allergies to weapons in any form. It's funny. Quite likely the only thing saving the Prez from a bullet is the fact that those hated "liberals" really don't like guns.

And Congress. Where to begin? Did it pass a budget? No. Did it pass any meaningful legislation in the last two years? No. Is the Mark Foley scandal the tip of the iceberg? Um, yeah. Skeevy pervdom is small potatoes next to the personal corruption that has yet to be unmasked by Jack Abramoff and other big money funboys. The interesting truth is that Democratic members of Congress are, on average, a lot richer than GOP types. Think of all the Democratic types who actually got elected spending their own money. They had to, as until this year the national Republican Party held a huge fundraising advantage. There are a lot of respectable Republican cloth coats in Congress these days...but not for long.

But I don't want to hear about all that. I'm tired of the inept leadership, failed policies and personal corruption. I know that reporters are only doing their job, but my brain is overloaded. I need that free beer.

And I'd be happy to drink it next Saturday, when Missouri plays on national television one more time. Their luck may run out in College Station, but by then, the free beer should have done its job.

Jon Worley would never, ever, counsel drinking to excess. And he's never done such a thing. Ever. Really. Honest to Morgoth.