Hey, what was that?

I fell asleep last night watching TV and woke up a few hours later to see an overhead shot of a flag-draped coffin.

What? Were the Bush-leaguers finally acknowledging and giving actual respect to the warriors they sent to Iraq? The ones who died as they played out Catch-22 Redux, i.e., "You can go home when you finish your missions, but, oh, by the way, we just raised the number of missions you need to finish before you go home."

And there it was, the coffin all by itself itself without even one administration hypocrite smiling and trying to express something resembling compassion through a face corroded and scarred by the anal acids encountered from years of kissing oil and construction company derrieres ?

Someone said "Ronald Reagan," but that couldn't be right. Surely they're not still finding the bodies of those unarmed Marines from the bombing in Beirut all those years ago?

And then someone said "Ray Charles," and I thought, "Oh, well that makes sense. There's a man who deserves national homage.

And then I fell asleep again.

Or maybe it was all a dream because I remember someone talking about how well the environment was protected during the Reagan years, and then someone said,

"He wasn't racist. He was just conservative. He was always telling people how proud he was of having helped Jackie Robinson get into Big League Baseball."


Was someone playing a Lenny Bruce record, the one from 1958 with How to Relax Your Colored Friends at Parties routine?

"Hey, that Joe Louis, hell of a fighter. We'd like to have you come over to dinner, but, ahh, I have a sister, and, uhh, I hear you people have a thing for guys' sisters... "

Sure sounded like it, just not as funny.

None of it made sense and then, then I remembered -- long day, late dinner -- chicharrones and rice and cheese and chipotle sauce.

No wonder it was all so surreal and wrong.


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