Thursday, October 10, 2013
Three friends and I were having coffee up at Oscar’s on White Street last week. We have much in common: none of us has been to Lithuania, and for some reason Lucy Lu has ignored each of our many phone calls. We are all elderly DYs (Displaced Yankees), range in weight from Too Much to Moby Dick, and are entirely insensitive to one another’s feelings.
“That deal you wrote about Hobbits last week was real snotty,” Nameless said. “It’s one thing to call politicians obsequious tubs of PAC money and quite another to diss Tolkien. He was, in actual fact, a genuine high faluting Cambridge guy. And a decent Catholic to boot.”
“Yeah,” Who’s on First agreed. “You need to cheer up. Pursue some happiness, for crying out loud. Try and remember why we all came to Arkansas.”
“Exactly,” Naturally chimed in. “We all left normal places with responsible state governments and very few praise bands in our churches. There was coordinated county planning and an IKEA store nearby. But don’t forget,” he continued. “They were cold places that we’d gotten a little too familiar with. The excitement was gone. Kinda like first wives…”
“I can overlook your preposition error in the preceding paragraph,” I said. “But I don’t understand your first wives metaphor. Explain, please.”
“He’s saying we divorced perfectly decent states and hooked up with Arkansas,” Nameless impatiently rasped. “Arkansas is our Trophy Wife.”
Who and Naturally nodded. “We all dumped frigid old gals and found ourselves a Gorgeous Airhead who takes all our money,” said Naturally.
“And this is a good thing?”
“It’s a matter of emphasis,” Nameless explained. “You’re always writing about the Airhead who takes our money. Ignore that stuff, and focus on how gorgeous she is. Think of Beaver… and that great old bridge. Think of the mist rising off the White River… don’t think about wing nut Teabaggers so much. Time and Darwin will take care of them.”
“How about noisy motorcycles?”
Nameless, Naturally, and Who’s on First smiled. “Time and Darwin, dear boy,” they said, sipping Oscar’s fine coffee. “Go look at the leaves.”
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