Category Archives: Politics

Chapter 10. Elected to the Republican slate of delegates for Richard Nixon from the Great State of Tennessee…

Elected to the Repub­li­can slate of del­e­gates for Richard Nixon from the Great State of Ten­nessee, I was in no way a king­maker. After all, Richard Nixon raked in 5,378,704 votes in the pri­mary or 86.92% of the votes cast, and 47,168,710 votes or 60.7% of those votes cast in the Novem­ber gen­eral, a pulsating […]

Chapter 9. Mediocrity, or powerhouse upstarts never appealed to this writer…

Medi­oc­rity, or pow­er­house upstarts never appealed to this writer, my grow­ing pen­chant for actu­al­ity tables in every­thing that mat­tered, every­thing in its right­ful place, sported vis­ceral mus­cle all its own, but I was com­pelled to the awe­some place where rock solid dynas­ties swooned to the Icar­ian mys­ter­ies a sud­denly mol­e­c­u­lar under­dog brought into the scheme, […]

Chapter 8. When my firstborn left home, trimming the mouths to feed

When my first­born left home, trim­ming the mouths I had to feed from eight to seven, I cut back from four cups of rice to two. We ate rice nearly every night for years. Some­times with beans, some­times with a scram­bled meat dish. Lots of casseroles, too. Times were hard. Hello. My name is Peggy. […]

Chapter 7. With this letter to Philip Dare I knew February was turning…

The laws in this city are clearly racist. All laws are racist. The law of grav­ity is racist. I am mak­ing this trip to Africa because Wash­ing­ton is an inter­na­tional city, just like Tokyo, Nige­ria or Israel. As mayor, I am an inter­na­tional sym­bol. Can you deny that to Africa? Peo­ple have crit­i­cized me because my secu­rity detail is larger than the president’s. But you must ask your­self: are there more peo­ple who want to kill me than who want to kill the pres­i­dent? I can assure you there are. First, it was not a strip bar, it was an erotic club. And sec­ond, what can I say? I’m a night owl.

Chapter 5. It was a story told by my mother to Paul that grabbed…

It was a story told by my mother to Paul over tea and cook­ies and I believe some inel­e­gant cheese that grabbed me by the Saskatchewans, pitch­ing me into a fever dossier and a full count I am prob­a­bly still suf­fer­ing con­sec­u­tively this very day, nearly sev­eral thou­sand dawns of Cool­ing Earth later. Why had […]

Chapter 4. Our dear Mrs. Middleton the Strict sent us home with a regenerative task…

Our dear Mrs. Mid­dle­ton the Strict sent us home with a regen­er­a­tive task one fine spring after­noon, crisp with the trav­el­ing song of way­ward dan­de­lions and invin­ci­ble coun­try singers drunk on the booze left unde­liv­ered by the winds of tomorrow’s next sur­prise. Her thirty stu­dents were to ask each of our par­ents, and in those […]