March 30, 2006

The following is a fantasy exercise:

        We are having a fast luncheon with the President of the Senate and Lt. Governor of South Carolina, André Bauer.   He eats with a hunger that surpasses even Bluto in Animal House.   He is not like the first André, for that would be inconceivable.   No, this André is in a hurry.

        "I have to do something big - something really, really big," he says as he shovels in the small portion that the chi-chi restaurant serves.   I'm having the Caveman Crêpes with mango salsa - a very insuring dish.   He's having sushimi which must be eaten fast to be enjoyed.

        "But there's more than one way to skin this dog," he says.

        "Cat," I interject.

        "Yes, cat, of course. Cat. Skin a C-A-T.   That's what I need to do.

        "Look, Dick, if you were in my position, what would you do?   I mean. heck, man, I've tried being nice to seniors and people with disabilities and help children with the WIC thing.   All I seem to get is bad press about my driving!"

        I look at him as if to say, "This is your mess, you clean it up."   But instead I chuckle and remind him that he has more tickets than a scalper at a Wofford game.   Maybe he should just tone it down a little and let time do its work.

        But instead he says, "Look, this Campbell kid is out to get me.   He set me up for this, and everybody knows it!"

        Of course he did, I say to myself.   It's not like his dad was unliked.   He was one of the greatest statesmen we ever had.   Instead, I smile knowingly.   Boy's got some contacts.

        "See, Dick, the thing is that it's got to be done quick!   Right now!   Within 24 hours!

        "If I don't do some big action within the next day, people will forget and just think I'm some kind of non-thinking, lackadasical stooge who can't do anything right!"

        "OK," say I. "But I'm telling you it shouldn't be tied in, in any way, with speed or driving or anything like that."

        But André 's already got that look in his eye.   He's got another one of those ideas.

        "No, Dick.   I know now what I'm going to do.   Sorry, I have to rush off!"

        I smile and wave to him as he runs out of the restaurant.   I learn later that he has walked 10 miles to Lexington and has let the press know.

        It's now 9:00 on Monday night.   My favorite show is coming on the local Fox channel.   Then, it hit me:

        It's the same sound effect you can hear when André is around.   "kuhTchink-kuhTchunk-kuhTchink-kuhTchunk!"

        "That's IT!" I scream.   My wife thinks I've finally gone round the edge of the razor.   "No wonder he thinks he can drive that fast in traffic!   No wonder he always has people out to get him!   He thinks he's..."

        "Honey, shut up so I can watch Keiffer, OK?" she says.

        Dick Anderson