Road To Nowhere

This here’s Stretch Coyote talkin’ at ya.

Some of my pals reckon that since Rick Perry might be fixin' to re-launch his bid to be an official presidential contender I’d automatically climb on board the Rick Perry covered bandwagon train, especially since he was reared in Paint Creek and I was sprung from Paint Rock.

Now Paint Creek is just a couple a Johnny Cash, Hank Williams and Merle Haggard CDs (in my automobile CD player) north of Paint Rock on Route 83, though you might need to throw in a Tammy Wynette if you’re travelin’ with a big thermos a coffee the way I do. Like so many other things in life, it all comes down to bladder dependability.

When I was just a little critter, we used to take Highway 83 north on our way to visit kissin' cousins in Canada. You may or you may not know its nickname, which is: “The Road To Nowhere.” It was a pretty rough ride in the old days before improvements in pavement technology. Now ain’t it a peculiar kind of knee-slapper that Texas Rick took that “Road To Nowhere” all the way to the governor’s mansion in Austin, and now is settin’ his sights once again on the White House?

I’d be just as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine to see another Texan as commander in chief, but I’m kinda suspicious of all this evangelical stuff he’s bringin’ to the table. I don’t know if he’s said it yet, but it seems like he’s pretty close to confessin' that it was God Himself who suggested another run for the White House. It kinda gets my hackles up when I hear folks claim they’ve got a private line to God. (What in the heck is wrong with the party line the rest of us all use anyhow?) Next thing you know they’re either pickin’ your pocket or hooked up with some fancy gal of ill repute, or both.

If Texas Rick was on that long and lonely Route 83 when he spontaneously combusted and got instructions from God, I’d like to know if he was travelin’ with a big thermos of coffee. Cause if he was, there’s a distinct possibility it was not God tellin’ him to make another run for the White House. Could be, it was only his overactive bladder suggestin’ a run for the outhouse.

It'll be interestin' to see just how rough the road to the White House turns out to be for this good old Lone Star boy, considerin' that pesky indictment. Looks like that pavement is kinda sketchy.



~ Stretch Illustration by John Sherffius
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