Author: Dick

It’s a steamy Friday afternoon in Beaumont, Texas. Steamy it is because of little late Spring showers followed by Summer-like temperatures. It’s a downside to the “sub-tropical” life. But when it gets too steamy I just think about places like Minnesota, Massachusetts, Maine, you know, the “M” states, during January. I mean the very being of those states in January when it’s freezing-ass cold. I did not mean that those are only “M” states during January. That would be truly stupid.

****

People have a tendency on Friday afternoons around here to get out and drive on busy streets like 11th Street and Calder Avenue and Phelan Boulevard. And they tend to drive slow and with great stupidity.

****

I don’t give a rat’s ass if Hillary and Barack meet in private at Diane Feinstein’s house or at John McCain’s or at Dick Cheyney’s. Stupid is as stupid does. Isn’t that a stupid thing to say?

****

Okay, I see things are rapidly getting negatively stupid so I am going to stick a fork in it for the weekend. Stick a fork into what, you may ask? That is fine. Go ahead and ask. I never promised you an answer, or a rose garden for that matter.

I just got back from McFaddin Beach and decided to check my e-mail. The beach was a nice respite from my city, where it seems you can’t walk down the street at night any longer without being stopped and questioned by the cops. It was funny how they let hordes of street people hang out yet threaten to take me to jail for walking while facing traffic in the wrong direction. I think some of these kids wearing police uniforms need to watch something other than “Cops.” And to think, I was even wearing a shirt.

So Barack it is.

Seeing an African-American as the probable Democratic nominee for president is not something I thought I would see in my lifetime. That is especially the case because I can still remember “Colored” water fountains and rest rooms in the hometown of my childhood.

Of course, I thought I would see a white woman nominated and even elected to the presidency. I did not think that woman would be Hillary Clinton.

As for Obama picking Hillary as his running mate, all I can say is in light of her RFK remarks recently: “Huh, are you f***ing nuts?” Or, to be more blunt: “Lyndon Baines Johnson.”

Actually I think Sen. Chuck Hagel, R-Neb., would be a great choice for an Obama running mate. No kidding.

As I have mentioned before I respect and even like Sen. McCain but I don’t think he would be a very good president and I shudder to think what kind of a looney tunes running mate the GOP will force upon him.

This could be a very interesting presidential race or one that is really, really bad.

It is difficult to imagine a world without Bo Diddley. “Hey, Bo Diddley” is about as an American chant as is “Hey, get offa my lawn.” But alas, our world today is Diddley-less as Bo Diddley checked out at age 79.

I didn’t know Diddley but that isn’t unusual because I didn’t know many rock n’ roll R & B legends although I think Ivory Joe Hunter visited our home once when I was a child and I chatted with Percy Sledge as he listed to an Astros game in his limo out in back of the old Texas Pelican Club in Vinton, La., although I doubt Percy remembers that or what he was doing five minutes before for that matter.

But I did see Diddley. He was the opening act, followed by Tower of Power, for Creedence Clearwater Revival at the very first rock concert I saw in Houston’s old Sam Houston Coliseum back in the early 70s. The fact that it was my first concert and that I got to see Diddley as well as my favorite band back then — Creedence not Tower of Power although they were pretty stout — and the fact that it was the 70s was … Oh, I forgot what I was going to say but it was a pretty good time to be alive and young.

So Hey Bo Diddley. Take it light, man.

After taking a final bag of my ex-sig-other’s personal belongings to FedEx it occurred to me that society must benefit from failed relationships much more than we think.

A case in point is this bag of photos, videos, etc. which I shipped to Indiana this morning. A tab of $27.50 for this small shipment nonetheless contributes to the wheel of industry. Everyone and their dog gets a penny or two just because I made an errant choice in finding a girlfriend. The mail store gets their share, the box manufacturer, FedEx, the truck driver, the petrochemical industry, of course, shrinks, Dr. Phil, etc.

Just a couple of weeks ago I took some of her clothes she left behind to Goodwill. She had a few good things in the bunch, certainly a couple of nice coats which will keep someone warm this Winter, no matter that one nice jacket has a girl’s name embroidered on the breast.

This must sound like I am trying to find the bad among the dismal to which I must readily confess. But really, I have already sorted out my feelings long ago and saw how I came out way ahead in this mess. More, I am just hoping to throw out a general sentiment of there being good to come from that what is not good, at least in some cases. I am sure you already know that but it doesn’t hurt to have someone remind you every now and then.

So consider yourself reminded. Now go back to sleep.