Are you all as excited about the impending arrival of Puglypaloosa as yours truly? Every day I find myself wondering just how much longer until the blessed event. Well perhaps we can pass the time with a post or two, just to ease the tension in a refreshingly non-sexual way.
So here goes.
I'm delighted to inform that the creative juices (in today's case: north of the equator) are flowing once again, and inspiration is striking in both frequent and fortuitous fashion. This morning the lightning rod for epiphany was in the form of a segment on that bastion of nerds and bane of Republicans: National Public Radio.
The subject of discussion was Claudette Colvin, a 15-year old student who boarded a bus in Montgomery, Alabama on March 2, 1955 and refused to give up her seat to a white man. Colvin was handcuffed, arrested and forcibly removed from the bus, all while screaming that her Constitutional rights were being violated.
Now some of you are probably thinking, "Big deal; didn't Rosa Parks already make history with the very same act of defiance in the face of indigity?". But - get this - Claudette Colvin did it ALMOST NINE MONTHS TO THE DAY BEFORE Rosa Parks became a legendary civil rights pioneer, for doing the exact same thing.
Claudette Colvin was still a young girl. Rosa Parks: a distinguished and refined lady. Soon after her incident, Claudette became pregnant. Rosa Parks was clearly the more publicly presentable and therefore stronger image of unfair oppression, and so when she refused to surrender her place of rest on December 1, 1955, it was Ms. Parks who served as the catalyst for social revolution.
To her credit, Claudette Colvin understood why this had to be. And I greatly admire her for it. It was inspiring to learn of Ms. Colvin's story, and of the altruistic pragmatism in her quiet acceptance of obscurity. We should all learn and grow from this lesson of unshackling the chains of ego in favor of common good.
Perhaps I already have.
(Nice guy? In both incidents it was an intoxicated and surly Ward Cleaver who demanded their seats.)
For recently, yours truly went through a similar yet equally galvanizing experience. Little did I know at the time the significance of the events that were about to unfold.
I must admit that - while in the moment - my emotions consisted largely of rage and disillusionment. Of this, I am profoundly ashamed.
However now, having been graced with Claudette Colvin's story, I believe I possess the clarity to properly place my own ordeal within its rightful context. And so, even though I DID pitch in for the box of donuts for which an unnamed coworker received undivided adulation, I intend to go forward in life with the understanding that anonymous contribution can be it's own reward.
And if this is truly not my destiny, next time I can pick up the donuts and pee on the ones that are for the others.
Before we officially commence Puglypaloosa, as a proud American I must first pay homage to another proud American who recently passed.
"This is Paul Harvey." For decades, that familiar phrase signaled our momentary daily departure to a bygone era of conservative values, homespun anecdotes, and shameless commercial segues.
"In times like these, it helps to recall that there have always been times like these." More than just a throwaway line originally intended to freak out stoners, nuggets of this ilk were a ubiquitous feature of Mr. Harvey's radio broadcasts. And for those of us who are nutty enough to not need chemical assistance in order to cope, these gems served a secondary role in reassuring us that the more things change, the more they stay the same. It's true.
And so it was that when Paul Harvey died recently at age 90, after more than 75 years in radio, he left a hole that won't easily be filled. And speaking of holes that can be difficult to fill, be sure to visit one of the many fine legal brothels the next time you find yourself in Nevada. Be sure to tell them Pug Harvey sent you.
One did not always have to agree with Harvey to find him a radio entertainer of the highest quality. And friends, when it comes to quality, there is no finer cocaine than Columbia's Finest. So be sure to ask for it by name wherever illegal narcotics are sold.
A salesman for himself and his vision of the American dream, Paul Harvey was also a master peddler of many products, whose makers were as loyal to him as his listeners were. And speaking of vision: when was the last time you had YOUR vision checked? Be sure to "see" a registered Optometrist.
Page 2.
Recently I received a letter from a long-time reader who confided that his marriage was lacking its former "pizzazz", and wondered if I could discretely give him some advice. I did not even hesitate to let him know that there is only ONE place to go in order to spice up his sanctimonious union. Wait. Actually there are two.
Which reminds me that manyofus occasionally suffer from painful, embarrassing itching; probably as a result of our active lifestyles (see previous paragraph). It is for folkslikeus that the good people at Proctor and Gamble have developed ointments to alleviate the discomfort, and get us back in the saddle again.
Paul Harvey will be missed by many after his sudden and completely unexpected passing at age 90. It serves to remind us all that we can truly go at any time. Although for someofus with enlarged prostates, we cannot go at any time. This is why I have referred a steady stream of friends to the FLOMAX website. Put your prostate in their capable hands today.
Some may remark that Mr. Harvey lived a full and rich life, which he did indeed. And they may go on further to say that - at age 90 - he was an antique. To which I would respectfully respond that he was more of an heirloom, and that his recordings and our fond memories shall live on. The classics never go out of style. Much like the classic antiques that you'll find at Leelee's shoppe.
And now you know ... the rest of the story. I want to thank all of you who have been patient and loyal during what turned out to be an extended vacation. I am back, renewed, invigorated, and looking forward to Puglypaloosa. Until then, I bid you ... good ... day!