Would the Real Colonel Sanders please stand

Often times in this busy, mixed up world, we need to pause and take a good look around us. I find that from time to time, this can be accomplished in the few seconds we have while waiting at a traffic light. Think of all that time we are wasting there. Use that time wisely.

The other day I had opportunity to do just that and I noticed something that shocked, even angered me. What have they done with The Colonel? As my eyes focused through the exhaust and heat of the afternoon, I sought out the familiar elderly man in red and white that often beckons me to his southern fried delights. No, not Alabama Santa. I speak of The Colonel from KFC, or what those that were born before the discovery of the harmful effects of fried foods call "Kentucky Fried Chicken". That's right, it has "fried" right in the name. I noticed something strangely different in this jolly old elf...he now has a hairdo as hip as your missionary companion. Gone are his wrinkles, his jowls, and his portly appearance. They have been replaced by an "Ironman Grandpa". This guy is a svelt, phat daddy. See for yourself.








<--Then vs. Now-->










It appears that the one discernible factor in finding good chicken is this: It's wherever the cook has a goatee.