All Entries in the "Featured Peeks" Category
Another Wall Story III
(Ed note: In the following segment the reader may notice different sounds accompanying different flat tires. This could have to do with the blazing hot asphalt or maybe it’s what I remember the sounds to be.)
My Chevy pickup died in Galveston. It sounds like a country song but it was real. I had driven down here to go to the wedding of a good friend and the truck, which had been so reliable in the past, suddenly had turned on me.
There was nothing left to do but stick out my thumb in the muggy Texas heat on lovely Interstate 10. I quickly got a ride in a semi to the town of Gonzalez where Willie Nelson just happened to be having a party. It looked like a pleasant detour especially when I saw the line-up of Ernest Tubb. Kris Kristofferson. Rita Coolidge, Jerry Jeff Walker, Leon Russell, Ray Wiley Hubbard, George Jones plus Willie and Waylon Jennings and more.
After two days of beer, blood and music I left Gonzalez and headed back on the asphalt. In just moments a rough, epoxied 1970 ford Galaxy pulled over. The driver had a sizzled flat tire and we started talking while he attempted to patch it. His name was Carlos. His family came from somewhere in Sonora and he lived in San Antonio where I had hoped to stay for the night.
With the tire repaired we headed west. I had noticed that all the other tires (Carlos had no spare of course) looked like prophylactics. Soon, from my shotgun seat, everything appeared in order but that was not to be.
“Pop!” There went the rear tire on the driver’s side and the car crawled to the side of the road again. “Damn” cursed Carlos who looked at me half laughing and half crying. “I should have brought a spare.”
We removed the tire and Carlos went into Sequin, Texas to have it repaired. I sat in the paltry shade of a solitary mesquite tree, like a feeble middle finger reaching for the sky. Its’ sun-scorched limbs defiantly gasped for life while I attempted to stay out of the sun. I still had my broken down white Stetson that some woman had given me at Willie’s deal. It looked stupid this was no fashion show.
“You don’t have to stay here and wait for me,” he smiled.
“Someone has to watch the car while you are in town,” I said.
“Why?” he asked. “It’s not going anywhere. Only a crazy person would steal it”
In about an hour he returned and found me still there. We installed the newly patched tire and went on our way. Before long we were approaching Santa Clara and a distinct wobble began to emerge from under the car.
“It’s just the drive train or maybe the transmission,” said Carlos. “I’m not too worried. We are almost there.”
As the skyline of San Antonio came into view another loud Whop was detected over the blasting radio. Now Carlos was pissed…Three flats in 120 miles! We went through the same charade as before with Carlos taking the flat to a gas station on Yucca Street near Artesia.
I waited, keeping an eye out for the many thieves that would love to steal his beat-up wreck with bad tires. He returned in the company of a mechanic he knew from high school who frowned and lent him a spare. We were then in San Antonio.
“Do you like enchiladas? he asked.
“Yes, very much I replied.
“Good. We we’ll go to my parents’ house for dinner. He pulled over to a phone booth and called his family to announce he was bringing a guest to dinner.
Arriving at his home I met his mother and father and feasted on chili rellenos, refried beans, fresh tortillas and cheese enchiladas. He told them of our adventures and they shook their heads and stared at him like he was nuts. His mother insisted I eat more and, not wanting to create a negative cultural incident I downed another enchilada. It was now dark.
“I will give you a ride to the river where you can find a hotel,” he said. “This neighborhood is no place for you after dark.”
To my great relief he borrowed his father’s car and drove me downtown to the San Antonio River. In just moments I heard “Where y’all going?” sweetly sang out. That’s when I met two exotic dancers who invited me home, but that is another story.
Ghost of Col. Sanders Haunts Chicken Plant
(Wimpton) He prowls the coops of the processing plant dressed in his white linen suit, a cadaverous, ghastly smile across his pasty face. His goatee is death-white too and almost starched, his glasses slip down his nose as he makes his nightly rounds.
He casts no shadow as he monitors the last hours of the feathered inhabitants.
Sightings have become almost commonplace here with reports of this Kentucky Colonel’s intrusions.
“We saw him one dawn after a night of plucking,” said Andrea Capone, who has worked at the processing plant since flunking out of Lee Harvey Oswald Middle School back in 1966. “He was real creepy and didn’t touch the ground. He just drifted through walls, clucking to himself.
Para-psychologists say the appearance of apparitions such as the Colonel are rare but do occur often in places linked to traumatic memories and unresolved guilt.
“We’ve had almost 300 reported sightings since summer,” said Dr. Wince Ardvarke, of Cal Amari College. “Certainly all of these witnesses can’t be crazy.”
Ardvarke, Professor of Macabre Economics at the well respected Pacific Coast institution gained fame after recording a posthumous conversation with the ghost of Jean Laffite on the River Road near New Orleans in 1980. He is author of the best selling novel Phantoms in the Pudding (Testosterone Brothers, Boston) in which he clearly states:
“Why are people so surprised at the presence of ghosts like these roaming around after dark. Do they think the afterlife is so glamorous? Imagine sitting around playing cards or dominoes with a bunch of pale riders all morning then shuffleboard with more spooks in the afternoon. Anyone would want to break free of this bond and do a little exploring.”
Ardvarke laughed when asked by one cynical reporter if ghosts were dangerous.
“No more dangerous than eating a diet of grease-fried chicken and instant mashed potatoes,” he said.
Local police have promised to increase patrols in the vicinity as well as around the nearby turkey processing plants buzzing with pre-holiday activity.
“Who knows,” cackled one officer, “we might even see Miles Standish or that Longfellow character out for a stroll looking for giblet gravy.”
– Gabby Haze
CALL IT MACARONI BILL GETS HOUSE BACKING
(Washington) A controversial new bill, which would legalize outright lying on the part of elected officials, has passed by a slim margin in the House of Representatives. Dubbed the Call It Macaroni Bill, referring to a line in the popular Yankee Doodle Dandy song, the legislation would allow the blatant stretching of the truth in situations involving national security, fiscal conflicts and romantic encounters.
“We don’t perceive any drastic changes from the accepted mode of behavior that has existed since Manhattan was wrestled from the Indians,” said Senator Oral Noise, Unitarian-CA, the sponsor of the bill. “We simply want to get the truth out of the closet and stop dealing with petty guilt at the expense of the public good.”
A supporting caste of sponsors, including the Pentagon, the nuclear industry, the tobacco lobby and Gunnison (Colorado) Rod and Reel Club, were said to be elated by the outcome.
“It’s about time our governing bodies got their heads straight on this lingering issue,” said Melvin Toole, a corporate spokesman for the pro-Macaroni alliance.
“For years they’ve been riding on their ponies with feathers in their hats, stepping on their noodles. I just hope the Senate wakes up and realizes the potential for the expedient justice that goes hand in hand with this progressive viewpoint.”
The benefits of “calling it macaroni” seems simple enough that even the weekend voter should be able to comprehend its effects. In the first paragraph, the bill clearly stipulates who can be the legal victim of benevolent mistrust and protective exaggeration.
“We have pinpointed a general constituency that will most benefit from Congressional lying,” said Noise from a phone booth at a former suburban Maryland Savings and Loan. “This includes wives, husbands, reporters, campaign workers, caddies, hotel clerks, embassy personnel, clergy, long-distance operators, household pets, bar patrons and members of the Supreme Quart.”
Insiders seem convinced that the bill will stroll through the Senate and become law just before the elections reach the limelight in 2018. This should provide a comfortable setting for Congressional campaigns and should filter down to the state level.
“We expect the question of prescribed dishonesty to be decided in state houses from Maine to Mexico before long,” added Noise,” as deception is not strictly a national issue. A formulative policy will facilitate practices that are not in conflict with any existing approach to governing the masses.
“In short,” he continued, “we have done away with the smokey back rooms and legitimized outright deception without all the baggage.”
Already, backers of the bill have lobbed an arsenal of shells onto the Senate floor. One lobbyist suggested that if the bill dies, elected officials will be forced to begin telling the truth.
“What kind of a precedent are we setting for the generations to come?” she asked.
“Who will pick up the torch if all the millionaires are busy misleading the public in the private sector. We must keep politics interesting if we plan to entice the well-to-do. Imagine the mundane cocktail parties thrown by a new breed of honest politicians extracted from the working class!”
Other more aggressive ploys conducted outside the Senate chambers included a high stakes, members-only liar’s poker game held at the Lincoln Monument. (Readers may recall that it was Abraham Lincoln who hurled the Union into a devastating, yet lucrative civil war under the guise of ending slavery.)
“My favorite ballyhoo has got to be the long noses,” said Noise referring to the distribution of over 1,000 Pinocchio noses to members of the voting body. “The senators who ditched today are going to kick themselves in the pants when they find out what they missed. I really liked the noses. Some of the legislators even took two.”
Noise stopped short of suggesting that the noses would turn the tide in the voting.
“I think the Macaroni Bill would have passed anyway,” he smiled. “The noses just created a festive atmosphere.”
-Kashmir Horseshoe
Uncompahgre Most Difficult to Navigate Say Linguists
(Bismarck, ND — Spelling Challenge Review –– February 19, 2017)
Uncompahgre was awarded top spot in the annual Spelling From Hell Super Bee held in this often-misspelled capital of North Dakota. Spelling greats, grammar enthusiasts and even the inventor of the digital Spell Check voted unanimously that the correct spelling of Uncompahgre was the most difficult to navigate.
The river itself looks pretty much like any other high altitude waterway according to the experts. There are mountains and green valleys and cliffs galore as the river runs from Red Mountain to Delta where it joins the Gunnison.
Other local rivers such as the Dolores, the Colorado and the Gunnison finished near last in the voting with the Animas, Rio Grande and Arkansas earning honorable mention in the local folklore category. The judges also heaped great tribute on the Yampa and the Platte for the employment of confusing letters and sounds in the one-syllable group.
“People in Western Colorado should be proud of their river since they are virtually the only ones who consistently spell the word correctly,” said Al Fabette, originator of the word games. “It may have the same number of letters than its larger cousin, Mississippi but it is harder to spell and pronounce.”
Fabette, a geographer of some repute, has spent the past 25 years searching the globe for hard to spell rivers, lakes and seas. His newest book Hard to Spell Mountains and Forests is expected in April. He can be reached on his pool phone or through this website.
– Ripple Van Winkle
Highway 50 Troll Road Opens Today
(Montrose) Motorists will now be charged a minimal fee for the right to operate their vehicles on Highway 50 from Monarch Pass to Grand Junction according to a spokesman for the Colorado Department of Transcendental Mobility and Gravitational Dimensions. The fee, larger than a bread box, but smaller than the national debt, will be levied based on weight, distance traveled and attitude. Tips are appreciated.
Heavier vehicles, especially tractor-trailers that already pay considerable road tax, will be charged slightly higher than say, tin yuppie four-wheel-drive transports. This particular decision came about by the flip of a coin over in Denver.
“We don’t like to let this kind of cat out of the bag since people might think we’re all sitting around on our asphalt,” said Princess Irm Peawit, whose father Reginald Peawit was recognized as King of the Highway during a stint as Detector of Roads and Bridges during the Eisenhower years. “After all, I just sort of inherited this job and, well, I wouldn’t want people to think I’m taking my responsibilities lightly. Hell, I might want to run for governor or even dog catcher down the primrose path,” she stressed.
Peawit went on to explain that the coin flip concept actually saves tax payers a bundle in that there are no lengthy meetings to contend with and no overtime paid out to black top consultants. She would not say what fiscal denomination was used in the decision making process but hinted that it was the same as the coin flipped to decide what color to paint the lines on the highways.
“People who complain about the toll or react in what is perceived as a hostile manner will be charged more and in some cases held up for hours,” said Peawit. “All of our toll engineers are equipped with an assortment of signs and two-way radios. We realize this charge is inconvenient for most motorists but one has to understand that highway maintenance costs money.”
When asked what her department has done with tax revenues earmarked for roads Peawit referred to the notes written on her arm and said, “We have been informed that those funds will be used to build stadiums for millionaires over in Denver.”
Coincidentally the toll road opens just prior to the expected annexation of Parlin by Gunnison and the arrival of tourist season.
“We have to keep up with the times,” said Peawit who echoed projections that the city of Montrose will be twice the size of Denver by the year 2030.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it,” she quipped.
In a related piece sources are mum with regards to a rumor that the Colorado House has approved a transaction that would send Colorado water to California in return for an extended culture package.
– Uncle Pahgre
