I have this talkative neighbor, Agatha, who seems to be the world foremost authority. You name the subject, she has the truth....not an opinion, The TRUTH!!!
Oh, there is one exception. She does not own a computer. She refuses to own one. Google is not in her vocabulary. The only windows operating system she is aware of is made by Anderson. Apple Macintosh is only a tasty fruit to her. To Agatha, IBM means impending bowel movement.
If I was forced to give her a political affiliation, I would label her somewhat to the right of Rush Limbaugh and Glen Beck.
She yearns for days of the past. The twentieth century?....No! Perhaps somewhere between the eleventh and nineteenth century would suit her fine. That is our Agatha.
We used to see her on the beach everyday. We would try to engage her in normal conversation. She will talk like a normal person for a while. At some point in our dialogue her eyes would start twitching, her lips would start trembling, her pupils begin dilating then glaze over and perhaps roll into the back of her head. She groaned, shook her head.
My wife, (the little French Lady) and I were wondering if she as going to faint or she was having some kind of mystical sexual experience. We were hoping for the latter.
Then she looked at us with total clarity and said, "Did you watch Rush Limbaugh today? He says congress should impeach Obama. I think he is right. Glen Beck thinks so too.
Everything that has happen since 1988 is Obama fault. Our country is being run by a black foreigner. He is letting "the blacks" take over the country. The blacks...blah..blah. blah..blah Obama blah blah blah blah "the blacks"....blah..blah..blah?"
Spittle and drool roll down her face.
"Agatha, I have to go take a dump now, if you will excuse me." We walk way very fast.
"Whew, I thought we would never get away. Did you see that? She went into an altered state of consciousness. It was like she was transported to Limbaughland." the little french lady mused.
"Maybe she is one of those Tea peer's." the wife said thoughtfully. "One of those folks who drink Tea and pees a lot and complains about it?" I queried.
After that we tried to avoid her. If we saw her wandering on the beach and she was heading towards us, I would ask my wife, "How far can you swim underwater?" The usual answer was, "not far enough."
We had a problem. We needed a solution.
THE SOLUTION: Sometimes the solution just in front of you don't realize it immediately.
I was watching the news recently and President Obama was visiting Ireland. It seems that his mother had Irish ancestry. Interesting information. I could be related to him since I am also since 3 out of 4 of my grandparents were Irish. It is a small country.
Hmmm...wait a minute.
I could tell Agatha that he is related to me. I will have to make a history, a cover, just like a CIA agent....
I am his cousin..twice removed, whatever that means. This could work. Let's see what going to happen.
I prepare my documentation (a photoshopped picture of Obama and me talking in the oval office) and commence to strolling and trolling the beach. I know it is a matter of time. This is like fishing.
On the third day of
Now Ag is waving frantically with both hands and running towards us. We are walking away from her but not very fast. She finally catches up with us.
She is winded, but she runs pretty well for a 79 year old person with a heart condition.
"Oh...Hi Agatha. When did you start jogging? You have to be careful at your age. but I think it is wonderful that you are concerned about your health and have started jogging."
"I didn't think it was very healthy for you to fall asleep on the beach like you did yesterday."
"Carry on, don't let us stop you."
"Wait!!!...(gasp...huff) I not jogging. I am trying (heavy breathing) to catch up with you and I wasn't sleeping on the beach yesterday. I fainted while trying to catch up to you."
"Oh!...? So what's up?"
Agatha's lips started quivering, her right eye started twitching, the eyes..they dilated, her face became flush. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, apparently retrieving some bit of arcane Rush Limbaugh data from her memory bank. She gasped, moaned, shook her head, then smiled.
"Did you hear what Obama did?"
She broke into a giggle now.
"Cousin Barry? what has he done now?" was my snappy rejoinder.
"Barry? who's Barry? I'm talking about Obama."
"Barry O'Bama. That's what family calls him." I stated casually.
"No, No! I am talking about Barack Obama, that bad black president."
"Yeah, we're talking about the same guy. My cousin Barry O'Bama, the President. The white Republicans are giving him a hard time. That guy."
"Some of you "whites" don't seem to like him."
I pause for effect. It is time to set the hook.
|"power to people. now let's have a stout and a potato."|
Now, I can see Agatha's mind spinning.
"...Yeahhhh!...What's your point? Haven't you heard of Black Irish? Google it.
Oh, I'm sorry you can't, can you?"
I feigned pent up anger.
"Are you one of those colonialist who exploited our homeland? You white people!!! (said with righteous indignation)
"You whites are always doing that kinda crap. You made life hell for us black Irish during the potato famine, Agatha, Do you ever aks yourself if this is right?"
"You do?....You lie!!!!"
Agatha is slowly backing up. she is nervous. I am jabbering incoherently. Spittle is flying from my lips. I am extolling the virtues of being Irish and black and how this knowledge has improved my basketball dribbling skills and the drinking of the beer afterwards. she now is running.
"She's pretty fast for a 79 year old white woman with a folding chair and a backpack on her back."
I think I had her at "aks". The little french lady nodded. "Oui!"
"Have a lovely jog, Agatha!!!!"