A FANTAFANTADONTCHAWANTASEE.
When I told a friend what I was going to write about today, she looked at me as if I had decided to drink ink. "You're just gonna get him mad at you, and people are gonna think you're crazy," she said.
I thought for a minute in that way I do - hanging my head down and looking like I was sorry for every sin that had ever been wrought by every human since Adam. I don’t know why I do that, but I guess that's what my face looks like when I think. Anyway, I thought for a moment and responded, "I'm not trying to get him angry, I'm trying to get his attention."
"Well, this should certainly do that," said she. "Maybe it will work."
So with that enthusiastic endorsement, here goes..
There was a long article in the State Newspaper the other day about how the Governor thought that he had made great strides in getting people in the General Assembly to think he was not a bad guy. The words jumped out of the page and splattered all over the desk.
The letters ran around on the desk for a second or two and then came together to form the following question: "Who is this man listening to?" When such parapsychological happenings occur, it's almost impossible to ignore.
Assuming that the ghost of some long lost political warhorse was trying to communicate with me, I answered to the air, "Look, The Governor is a good man. He has wonderful intentions and some pretty good ideas. He must be listening to somebody who has the right ideas."
The letters ran around.
"That's not what they're saying in the hallways," they read.
Almost fearing the answer, I asked, "Who are THEY and which HALLWAYS are you talking about?"
Frantic movement, then, "
After that, it was all down hill. The letters told me that certain personages close to the Governor were telling him things just to keep him quiet, and that, when it came time for a real crunch, he would be treated like an alligator hunter with no knife.
It was mentioned, about that time, that this was crazy and that lot's of people genuinely liked the Governor and worked on his behalf.
"Right," said the letters in that Bill Cosby kind of way. "Besides the guy who's headed for freezer-country, name me one."
I went down a long list I had gotten from the State Legislative web site. Nothing.
The letters knew something I didn’t know. I questioned the air, asking if they knew so much, why couldn't the letters just come out and say who those Governor-haters were. But then, the letters turned coy.
"oi waeucr-83wyt038vtypt9up0cq9u25[09342Qmf98wyu4!" they said.
"If you're not going to give me sources, then I can't publish. You want people to think I'm the New York Times, or Newsweek, or CBS?"
The letters retorted, "You publish anonymous quotes all the time.."
"Yes," I said, "but I know who they are and there are always two or more."
"Right…."
Then proceeded about ten minutes of swearing and responsive swearing.
"Fine, don’t believe me," said the letters. "I have better things to do. I'm already late to a P Diddy concert."
The letters incandesced and vanished.
Now I had the impossible choice of trying to tell the Governor to watch his back, so I picked up the phone and dialed.
Have YOU ever tried to get hold of the Governor? Trust me, his people wouldn't let God get through if they didn't want Him to see the Gov. So fat chance there.
Then I thought of writing this article. He probably wouldn't be allowed to read it, but maybe somebody from outside might - we have a lot of readers - and tell him in a private telephone conversation. Hey, it COULD happen!
Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
- Dick Anderson