|
 “Makes
a guy wonder sometimes,” Windy Wilson said, “if gettin’ all stabbed
to death might not be a bad way to go.”
The rest of us – the Supreme Court of Dang Near Everything at the
Mule Barn coffee shop – politely choked on our java and put the cups
down. Even for Windy, this was quite an observation.
“Yer prolly askin’ yerselves,” Windy said, “how I gerrymanderated
myself into this observation.”
“Well … yes …actually.”
“Doc, I know you and the boys need fresh idears ever year or two
jest to keep you sharpened, so here’s how I figger it. You know bout
March fifteen, right? Back in the olden days, before we even had our
interdependence from England, they called it The Idears of March. So
they knew they needed idears even back then. This whole stabbin’
thing came from that old Roman guy, Julius Caesar.
This year woman, called herself the Oriole of Dolphins, ‘cuz she
thought she was smarter than most folks in Baltimore or even in
Miama … she told ol’ Julius to beware them Idears of March, ‘cuz
they’s nothin’ but trouble.” [to top of second
column] |
Windy waited for Loretta to top
off his cup. “But ol’ Julius wasn’t too purty good about listenin’
cuz he’d already whupped England and Germany so he figgered he was
too smart already. So he gived a speech they didn’t like and a bunch
of Brute’s stabbed him plumb to death. Well, it sure made him
famous, didn’t it? I’m sure you heard of a caesarian section house –
somethin’ on the railroad, I think – and an epileptic Caesar, and
Caesar salad, and an Orange Julius. ‘Course you have.
“So mebbe we need to ease up on them Brute’s in history, light up a
roman candle in their honor. They messed up them Congressional steps
some, but Julius Caesar’s story is still around and it’s long after
that mop bucket dried out.”
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
|
