Nodded off last Saturday after the Notre Dame Clemson game and dreamed I was riding around in the rain in a Lincoln with Matthew McConaughey. Naturally I asked him what it was like to work with Bradshaw in “Failure to Launch” but he was kind of a jerk about it and wouldn’t answer except something about trying to shoot a commercial. So I said, “I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk about it because that movie kinda -” here I used an expression of disapproval which you can probably guess if you saw the movie because it really did. He still wouldn’t talk so to lighten the mood, I asked him which one he’d rather kiss, Bradshaw or Sarah Jessica Parker. He must’ve taken that the wrong way too because he seemed to get all irritated and turned up the radio.
Well you’re not going to believe this but he’s got Miley Cyrus on the stereo. Seriously. So I go, “Hey Matthew, I thought you old guys liked classic rock.” He looks at me kinda quizzical and says, “old guys?” and I say, “Yeah. You’re driving an old guy car and I’ll tell you what, buddy, that hairline is headed due North. What about some Skynyrd or Creedence or something?” Instead he pulls into one of those chain places, Applebee’s or Chili’s maybe. So I say, “Good idea, man, get yourself a couple cheeseburgers ‘cause you sure ain’t the specimen you were in ‘We Are Marshall’ which, by the way, didn’t -” I used that word again.
We went into the place but right away McConaughey saw that there was a band and all of them were wearing something like muskrats on their heads and playing a Miley Cyrus song and he started going, “Alright, alright, alright.” Like I said, this was a dream. So now I know I need a jolt, and I figure I can always get an Uber ride home so I headed for the bar.and asked if there was a bartender available who’d like to introduce me to Mr. Beam and who shows up but Hillary Clinton.
That’s when I woke up.
I don’t really know that much about Hillary Clinton except that she was married to President Bill Clinton and she’s running for president herself. I just wouldn’t expect to meet her in a bar. It would be like meeting your high school librarian at a craps game. Now her husband is a different story. He always seemed like the kind you wouldn’t mind having a few pops with. He’d be the guy who’s always bird-dogging the chicks and chatting up the waitresses.
Come to think of it Trump is a stereotypical bar guy too. He would be the “topper” – there’s one in every tavern. If you said you averaged 27 mpg on your vacation trip, he’d get 35. And his car would be newer, bigger and have a bigger engine. Your kid made the football team? His is in the Olympics. You got a hole in one? He got two of them. On consecutive holes. At Oakmont.
Biden is the affable old guy who worked with your dad in the mill and was in the Knights of Columbus with your uncle. He tells long, involved, seemingly pointless jokes and forgets the punch lines. Sometimes you have to tell him Kennywood’s open.
Rubio is the smart-aleck who irritates the Trump-topper guy by explaining how the only way a V-12 could get 35 MPG is if it’s pushed over a cliff.
Sanders is the guy who shouts about how the big corporations are ripping you off and how they wouldn’t get away with it if you weren’t so naive. He won’t drink certain beers because he heard they were non-union and he’s sure the World Series is fixed.
Kasich is the guy who’s in the john every time it’s his turn to buy a round.
The only reason Huckabee is in the bar is to recruit for a temperance meeting. I tell him I think the temperance movement totally – I used that word again. Which was a mistake because Hillary just shut me off. I guess I must still be dreaming. Where’s McConaughey?
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