“The Florida legislature is considering a specialty plate with a design that includes a Christian cross, a stained glass window and the words ‘I Believe.’ If approved, Florida would become the first state to have a license plate featuring a religious symbol.”(AP, 4/24/08).
This is a plate you can put your faith in, and lord knows I needed some divine protection Friday night. After regaling a party of dog people about the time I Old-Yellered a once best friend, I had one more piece of Turkey Rhubarb quiche, and took leave with my esteemed companion and driver, Brigitte.
Notwithstanding the fact that neither of us are show dogs, at least I don’t tailgate. Rather than speculate on whether she was a pirate in a past life, let’s just say she has poor depth perception. Instead of the standard St. Christopher’s medal dangling from the mirror, a magnetized statue of Odysseus sits on her dash. No doubt a reflection of her pagan beliefs. Not to boast, but I look good to one-eyed dames. This one-eyed siren’s initial interest in me had much to do with a certain cardboard cutout quality I perfected while living under an overpass in the Florida panhandle (is that how you spell panhandle?). It was there that I met a toothless Sir Valhaladad. He was said to be a renowned thaumaturge, a healer who worked miracles on the sick and dying from a flea market stall in south Tampa (is that in the panhandle?). He taught me the virtue of shallowness, a character trait 98% of the population exhibit as a mundane practice, rather than the true art we 2% extol.
It was night. Traffic was heavy. I always thought she could see out of her ear. Given her constant preoccupation with facing the passenger seat while she talked, I just figured she had some special pagan power, like ear-vision. She didn’t. You think I jest, oh ye of little faith, Go there now. Go, go see the still fresh skid marks where the rubber from my new used car’s tires tell the near fatal tale. Go, go where 14 parts from 23, and see for yourself.
“Watch out,” I screamed into her good…errr…bad eye, I couldn’t be sure.
She looked up and jerked the wheel hard to the left, then to the right, then left. The car did a 180 and ended up facing the oncoming traffic.
“We’re dead meat,” I screamed.
Cars sped at and by us. Had a car hit us we would have been killed instantly, or worse, paralyzed. Somehow she got turned around, after which we repaired to her crib for food, drink, and TV.
2 comments:
Fun to read but what does this sectionmean!!!
quality I perfected while living under an overpass in the Florida panhandle (is that how you spell panhandle?). It was there that I met a toothless Sir Valhaladad. He was said to be a renowned thaumaturge, a healer who worked miracles on the sick and dying from a flea market stall in south Tampa (is that in the panhandle?). He taught me the virtue of shallowness, a character trait 98% of the population exhibit as a mundane practice, rather than the true art we 2% extol.
CRam Jam Fram a lot !! --begs development.
Randy just read CYCLOPS That is so funny. Love you MOM
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