Hooker Mountain - Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Hey! This is Charlie up on Hooker Mountain,

How are you doin' today? I am lookin' at the tellie-vision, and shakin' my head at all of the stuff going on in the Presidential election. Seems to me that I am more and more confused!

What does it have to do with runnin' the country, when the candidates are spewin' stuff all over the world about who will be the best President? Not because they think it is important, what they are sayin', but because they just have to say somethin'!

Obama is a man who says a lot, but I wonder what he means when his message is always about "This Great Country". I agree with him, this is a great country! Ain't no surprise to me. I been livin' in this country a long time. But, to keep sayin' it over and over, ouch! I want to hear how he is goin' to run the country! And, that McCain feller, he says one thing, then the next minute, he says another, that doesn't make sense if the first sentence is the truth!

It feels like, to me, they need to stop sellin' and just get down to the truth of what they represent to this country.

Personally, I think they are scared of somethin'. Fear is a funny thing. When it comes 'round and hits us in the gut, we don't always make sense. We just begin runnin', and whatever gets in the way, we just keep goin'! Don't even think, we just keep movin' on. I got it figured that they is runnin' from somethin' and need to slow down a pace or two.

I think about that old black cat that lives out on my back porch. He came wanderin' off the mountain, behind my house and settled in on the back porch. When it would come night, he set up such a yowl that was so loud that my wife Hedda and me couldn't sleep. Old Rover-Boy, my dog, would finally join in. I would end up shoutin' at them at the top of my voice to stop the noise. By that time my heart would be poundin', and Hedda would be sittin' up in bed with her eyes glazed, and a finger in each ear.

This went on for about a week and Hedda told me to get rid of the cat. Plain and simple, me or the cat! That puts a man's body in quite a shock, when it is 3 a.m. in the mornin'. Losin' my warm bed in the night is not my plan!

So, I went to the back door lookin' for the cat. He had hunkered down behind the wood box. He was starin' up the mountain into the dark. His one good eye was lookin' up the mountain for anything that might move. He sat there swooshin' his tail and growlin'. I swear, I couldn't see nothin' out there in the dark. About that time, Old Rover-Boy came around the corner from the front of the house. I figure he was lookin' for me and feelin' for me to save him from the cat.

The cat took one look at Rover-Boy, with his one good eye and fear on his face. He jumped on Rover-Boy's back, with all claws out and ridin' high. Let me tell you, you ain't never seen anythin' like a dog bein' ridden by a one eyed cat who has fear in his eye. Rover-Boy did ever' thing he could to get that cat off his back. Rover-Boy howled to the top of his voice, jumped up and down and side ways like a buckin' bronco. The cat was yowlin' louder than ever.

I was tryin' to get hold of one of them critters to stop the ruckus, an there weren't no way. As soon as I had hold of one, the other would side step. All of a sudden, the back door flew open, and there stood Hedda with blood in her eyes and a broom in her hand!

She began swingin' that broom on all three of us. That wild cat's one eye was full of fear. He dug into Rover-Boy even more. I was tryin' to get out of the way, stumbled over the wood box and into Hedda’s "full arm swing" with that broom. I went down, rolled off the porch yellin', as I hit the ground. The dog and cat landed on top of me. Satisfied, Hedda threw the broom on top of us, shook her finger in the air, slammed the back door and locked it! Ever' thing got real quiet.

It was cold on that porch in the middle of the night. The cat made a couple of circles and made a bed on my chest. The dog got around on the other side of me and did the same. I rolled a little more under the porch and they followed me. I guess we were buddies for the night.

The curious thing is that the cat sleeps on the back porch, he ain't afraid any more of the dark up the mountain. Rover-Boy claims the front porch, and no kinda noise in the night, gets him off the porch until dawn. Hedda finally let me back in the house with a cup of coffee and a warnin' about my critters.

For the past two months, when it gets dark, everthin' is quiet. Except, that is, for my snorin'. That scroungey cat with the one eye and missin' fur, don't make a sound. Hedda sleeps with a smile on her face and a broom under the bed.

My thought for tellin’ this story of me and my critters is that, "when a woman takes over the house, things is goin' to happen! She can only tolerate so much when her "beauty sleep" is disturbed." My thought is that, "maybe after all, we need a woman in the White House, who carries a broom!"

This here's Charlie, up on Hooker Mountain.

An Editorial

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