I’ve been really hyper-sensitive to names lately. The presidential candidates for example: Newt and Mitt, what kind of names are these? And Barack? I challenge anyone reading this post to recall someone they’ve known named Newt, Mitt or Barack!
We’ve seen what happens when you get a President with a weird first name. Bring back the Bills, Georges and Ricks, and forget that fool with two first names as a name!
In the last two days I’ve gotten mail from AARP and Aflac, both wanting me to join their clubs. No thanks people! Take me off your list. I have no health insurance, or old people insurance, and I’m fine with that. A terminal illness is just my excuse to head to Vegas for one last fling.
I was telling one of my hitch-hiking stories from back in the sixties, to Steph the other day. Turned out she’d heard it before (perhaps multiple times), but she let me finish it. She said something later that was very interesting: my stories never change in specifics, but sometimes are embellished with more information.
I realized that if the experience you’re trying to recreate was good on a human level in the first place, why embellish it? It would then become not real, thus invalid.
The story? Two hot New York school teachers were on summer vacation driving cross-country with a heroin dealer they’d met in a bar who agreed to be their driver just to get himself to Los Angeles to score a big drug deal. They picked me up in El Paso, Texas because they thought my badass longhaired self was cute. I stepped into a party car that didn’t stop until the next morning when the girls asked me if I wanted to be their driver down into Mexico because the dealer guy had scored, and split. I declined, went North, they went South, story over… Embellishments are available if you e-mail me. :-)