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1993-02-19
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Copyright 1993(c)
GOD BLESS AMERICA AND A POX ON GRAVITY
A Ruby Begonia Column
By Del Freeman
Well past the pain and ennui, Ruby can now confess she spent
New Year's Eve alone, sipping champagne and contemplating her
naval. Yes, I know. It's hard to imagine that Ruby could find no
companion to fill those lonely hours, but then, Ruby is aging. I
think she's doing it much like fine wine. There are those who think
she's doing it like that illusive something one can never quite
locate, but which has gone decidedly bad in the refrigerator.
Soon, I expect, Ruby will find herself shuffling around in
orthopaedic shoes, silver leather mini-skirt split up the sides to
accommodate her splayed knees, sequin top permanently misshapen
from the steady decline of Ruby's frontal assets, which seem
intent on proving Izzy's theory of gravity.
There was, however, one bright spot in all the New Year's
gloom, and that was the sighting of Joe Willie on television, co-
hosting some kind of parade or some such. You all remember Joe
Willie ... the one with the knees? And, yes, he did have that nose,
but he also had those eyes. And that nice dark hair.
Ruby wanted to do things with Joe Willie - sweaty things.
Unfortunately, he had Randi, whose bozangas far outshadowed Ruby's
own even in the days before gravity reared its ugly head.
I shall never forget the first time I remember seeing Joe
Willie. It was the occasion of his famous prediction that his team
would win the Super Bowl in the face of astounding odds that said
otherwise. Joe Willie didn't stutter, either. He had stones - real
stones. In spite of the sportscaster's smirk, he calmly predicted
victory, and then went out and secured it. I don't care if he did
cross dress, the guy had gonads!
There's no denying that whoever said men age more gracefully
than women hasn't seen Joe Willie lately. Something terrible has
happened to him in the intervening years. His hair has turned
orange and he still has that nose. Oddly, it seems to be getting
larger - much like Ruby's thighs. It also seems to be drooping a
bit, sort of like Ruby's Bazongas. And he's a weird, unnatural
almond color, like George Hamilton. With all that orange hair, he's
kind of frightening - sort of reminiscent of a Halloween cupcake -
nothing like the Joe Willie I remember.
And while looking like something soaked in peroxide and left
out in the sun too long, Joe Willie continues to exhibit a total
void of talent. It just proves that any guy willing to wear 'em can
sell pantyhose. Just imagine, ... Joe Willie played football for
only a brief spell, and then went on to live a life of moderate
comfort and notoriety based on his willingness to dress somewhat
eccentrically and tout the occasional diet drink or coffee maker.
Personality was never a factor. Joltin'Joe, if you'll recall, did
much the same thing, with about the same expression and degree of
scintillation.
When I think about it, Joe Willie is one of the great tributes
to this land of plenty in which we live. Where else could a no-
talent fella' with a big nose earn a decent living doing absolutely
nothing for 25 years?
Is this a great country - or what?
END