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The Dealio

Let me go get one more cup of coffee so I can get amped up enough to write this post.  It is 4:35am in the morning — a Sunday morning at that- and the world around me is still abed.

Scott and Billy Joe Shaver. I have met Billy Joe several times --not that he would remember. Me and Scott will sit down for a beer before it is all said and done.

Ahh, mucho bueno!  Now here is the deal.  I have this buddy Scott that I wrote about back in August.  I hope Scott is still asleep right now – dreamin’ dreams of buxom bottle-blond barmaids with sweet smoky Marlboro voices.  Life is never any better than when she sets that long neck down and you watch the skim of frost glaze the outside of the bottle right before your eyes.

Scott deserves a good night’s rest.  The chemo and radiation has been kicking his cracker ass this week  and not one of us can do a damned thing to lift that pain from his shoulders.  I have never been poisoned unless you count that time my Grandmother held that leftover vegetable soup a few days too long or that unfortunate episode with the Bacardi 151 before I was old enough to vote.   With certainment, I can say I have never poisoned myself to save my life.

What little I can do amounts to sending Scott a few digi-dollars via Paypal when he rattles the can.   The other week he wrote in his blog that he was losing some weight and all his pants were too big.  I put a note in that Paypal note place and said ‘Buy some damned pants that fit!’   Scott is a few years my junior and I jangle his chain  like a meaner and older brother.   Gotta man up boy!  This ol’ world is a rough damned gig.   Like I need to tell him that with what he is going through…  2 week old vegetable soup pales in comparison to what he is ingesting.

Scott wrote me back to inform me he no longer wore long pants — he wore golf shorts.  Specifically he said ‘ Damn if I’m putting on long-sleeved pants in this heat without getting paid for it.’  I always try to get the last word in so I replied ‘Sometimes it is a wonderment that we can even communicate.  🙂   I have never played golf and I don’t own any golf shorts…. or any of those little visor/headband things.  I guess I need to get out more.’   I was unsuccessful in my one-up plan; he shot back ‘I don’t buy golf shorts for golf — I buy ’em because they have an expandable waist-band.’   I can’t argue that logic. Scott = +1

If you clicked that link over to Scott’s blog, you can’t help but notice he is a big beisbol fan — Texas Rangers to be exact.   As this blog post right here was trying to hatch in my brain; I was roiling it around and thinking about baseball and golf and Scott  and my scary brain hit some weird junction of synapses and I made this leap.

You remember an episode of The Beverly Hillbillies from 1962 about shooting golfs?  ie:

Jed and Jethro are going to shoot golf with Drysdale and Leo Durocher, but Jed thinks that they’ll be shooting some new type of critter that lives underground, flies, and is a real challenge to kill. Drysdale calls to cancel, so the Clampetts go ahead to the club to shoot golf. When they visit Mr. Durocher, he thinks they are caddies. He tries to ditch them, but the plan doesn’t work, and Jed and Jethro catch up. After Jethro messes up Durocher’s putt, he throws his golf ball in the tree, and Jethro ends up impressing him by knocking the ball out of the tree with a baseball. So Durocher visits the mansion to tell Jethro about the game and get him to sign a contract. He also tests Jethro’s arm, but learns that he can only throw a ball that has been smeared with possum fat, which disappointments him. Elly tells him she can throw a ball just as well as Jethro without possum fat and proves it by throwing the ball so hard that it knocks Durocher in the pool.

As weird as it sounds, you gotta agree it has all the elements in place that we are talking about right now.  Baseball, golf, curvy blonds and dumb hill-country-billies.  Just about fills the bill… you can also see why I came within an ace of failing Creative Writing in High School.  I tried to work some possum fat into my story but I just ain’t that good.

Well, it is Sunday.  Time to pass the plate.  Then y’all can go to Luby’s.  I figure better than 500 of you folks are going to read this post today and more than a few will click over to Scott’s blog just ’cause humans by nature are a curious bunch.   Right over there in the upper right corner is a Donate button.  That can Scott is rattling is pretty empty right now else he wouldn’t be shakin’ it in so public a fashion.  It would be a hard thing for me to do.  I expect  know it is for Scott as well.  Hit the button if you can; it will be the best money you spent this week.  Hell, this time next year that $10 or $20 or $50 won’t be missed will it?

End Note: The Road Goes on Forever by Robert Earl Keen from the Live from Austin,TX cd.  Barmaids, tip jars, guns, pickup trucks  and Bombay Gin.

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1 comment to The Dealio

  • Andy, you’re a durn peach and far too kind to an old broke-dick like me. It’s been my pleasure to make your acquaintance…it makes the rest of the retarded internet worth the trouble.


    (I remember that episode of the Beverly Hillbillies. I loved that show…I need to BT the box-set before I lose the cheap high-speed broadband 😉

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