On the Way Out series -- Vol. 4, Part 2
A sportswriter’s nightmare
My goodness! Another nightmare explodes inside my overloaded brain. This time, there are two little men sitting on a fence post. I didn’t bother to visualize if they were six feet apart. They must have been because suddenly a figure emerged and sat down between them and unleashed a devilish smile.
It was Jack Nicholson!
Normally, with such an occurrence, I would instantly wake up and return to the real world. Not this time… this time there wasn’t a clock on the nightstand to bring me back.
The trio smiled in unison and Nicholson pointed straight ahead and said. “Isn’t that, Price…the broken down sportswriter?”
The fella on the left was shoeless. The tip of his wooly socks contained the letter “L” in blue, while the fella on the right was shoeless as well, but the letter “R” in red stood out, plain to see, as both men frantically wiggled their toes.
My goodness, I was leaving the comfortable surroundings of the world of sports…and I was entering something completely foreign to me: Politics.
I guess it was inevitable. After all, venturing away from the world of sports for most of 2020, I had finally headed for the dark side.
Beware! There’s no telling what lies ahead.
I quickly tuned to the Western Channel. I wiggled my feet and suddenly Glen Ford appeared. It was the original 1957 flick 3:10 to Yuma. I was now wide awake and back home. All was well. Ford was the bad guy for a change and Van Heflin played the good guy. Parts of the film was shot in Texas Canyon, just a few miles east of my current residence and a few miles west of Old Tucson, once a haven for Hollywood and the site for so many of the oldWesterns.
Suddenly, I removed my strange pair of socks and was snoring away. By the way, I cannot remember if I stole those unusual foot coverings from a democrat or a republican.
No comments:
Post a Comment