Wacko Dream #3

Ol' Hoss was out and about yesterday, meeting with my new Salem, OR, buddy, the Pirate. To read his meet and greet piece about the event, go here.

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In this dream, I am standing in the foyer of the main Philadelphia post office, arguing with a passel of lawyers. I am holding my own, according to my lone supporter. They bring in their champion orator.

This gentleman begins his rhetoric, and quickly gets into theatrical adventures -- eyes rolling, his voice rising then falling, up and down the melodic and volume scale, hand gestures sweeping from the floor toward the ceiling, deep knee bends followed by dancing on his toes.

When he finishes, Ol' Hoss says, "Spellbinding, counselor; stentorian. It is too bad -- this is what scientists frequently say -- it is too bad your remarks lack pith."

He looks at me. "Do you have any money?"
Hoss: "No."
Spellbinder: "Not even for cab fare?"
Hoss: "Oh, sure, I got that."
Spellbinder: "Excellent. You will make a worthy adversary. Come to WFL-TV at 7 p.m. for an hour-long debate."
Hoss: "Sure."

Spellbinder and his passel depart. I turn to my lone supporter and say: "You got any idea what this debate is about?"

(I do not know if there is a "main" Philadelphia post office, or whether it has a foyer. I doubt there is a station WFL-TV in Philadelphia. I usually could not debate my way out of a wet banana popsicle sack. But this one I think I can win: I'll hit him with my "Don't throw the baby out with the bath water," and my "Like Solomon, I am willing to cut the baby in half." This will be easy: audiences are suckers for baby stories. Now, if I just knew what we were arguing over. I am damn good at remembering dreams that make a point. This is not one of them.)

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Here is what my buddy Oz of Australia told me:

"It may be that your sole purpose in life is to serve as a warning to others."

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There is entirely too much political correctedness going on. Among the latest is to avoid the "Christ" word, as in "Merry Christmas."

They don't bother me, of course. My cards always say "Season's Greetings," because I am a big fan of frankincense, myrrh and cajun.

But when I put something in the Salvation Army pot I don't wanna hear no "Happy Yuletide." A simple "Big Ernie bless you, everyone," will suffice.

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My favorite word today is overqualified. Adj., ringy, dingy, dingy. Def.: When Lionel Hampton plays the triangle for the Boston Pops Orchestra.