Post-Holiday Snafu Speech Writer

I had a wonderful Christmas and got underwear and toys. I can only hope that yours was as good. I loafed with Flannery and the girls for a few days afterwards, playing games and munching on leftovers. It was nice. We got a white post-Christmas and built a fire. These were the days that stand out when your life chooses to flit past your eyes in some pre-death experience that only plays in fast-forward.

Regardless, I spent this evening doing something I have never done before. I sat and wrote a speech to be delivered by a buddy of mine before a judge on Monday, and had a few beers as I penned it. I've drank beer and penned speeches for judges before, but I've never done it for a friend. It was always my speech, my judge, and my court date, not someone else's.

You see, I have very few of what most of the world would consider "viable skills". Apparently writing happens to be one of them as my friends seek me out when they want something committed to paper. I have been consulted on job proposals, wedding vows, wills, and contracts. My written opinion has been sought on such weighty philosophical matters as love, peace, and cocktail hours.

I try and approach each new challenge with as much aplomb as I can muster, which isn't really saying much as my "aplomb bob" seems to waiver at times. My peers think of me as something of a man of letters and while I've mastered twenty-three of twenty-six, I still tend to throw in too many Q's, U's, and E's if for no other reason than to make it look French and therefore acceptable to polite society. They tell me I've a gift for words but most are of the four letter variety and I politely ask to be excused.

Not tonight.

My buddy ran afoul of the law and he is in real trouble. He stands to have a large rock around his neck for quite some time. He is my buddy and I want to help him but my legal advice wouldn't fill a thimble. What can I do? Tell him that he will enjoy wearing striped clothing as it will make him look slimmer? Console him with the fact that he will get to enjoy someone else's cooking for a change? Should I explain that dropping the soap in the shower is a great way to make new friends?

No. I have to write a speech like the one that kept several Congressmen out of the pokey for breaking the law. They had power and money and influence and the best speech writer's that this generation could disgorge. My poor buddy is stuck with me because I'll do it for a large plate of ham and eggs.

All I can say is, I hope it helps. He deserves a break, and while I know that Providence rarely gives them to those who need them, I hope his turns up.

And while we are on the subject of breaks, I hope someone with power, influence, and money reads this and are hiring. All I ask is to work from home on my own hours, and a killer spell-check program, as I can't spell sheet.

Doc

Jobs I would Be Good At

Shepherd.

In articles past I've mentioned a few jobs I would suck at, such as international spy, a hot lover, movie reviewer, work for FEMA, mountain man, fear councillor, singer or dancer, horror writer, a thief, being cool, writer of children's stories, cartoonist, typesetter, matchmaker, prince, animal rescuer, and yes, fashion model. Feel free to click on each in turn and learn how poorly I could do these jobs. Go ahead. It will make you feel better about yourself. And ladies, be warned, the fashion model one might make you reconsider how lucky Flannery is. It is that bad.

But I've been giving this a little thought here recently and maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way, like a pearl diver who lives in Yuma. Instead of dwelling on my faults and tasks that I am ill suited for, maybe I should look for employment opportunities that I am tailor made for, like shepherd.

I think I'd be damn good at it. Look at the picture above. Hell, I could do that. And the benefits would be amazing! Think about it. I'd always have a good tan and every day is casual dress. Look at the uniform. It would be light and breezy, so it would be great for summer wear, not to mention there would be nothing to bind or constrict Big Jim and the twins. I'm not much of a sandal wearing guy so those would have to go, but I don't think the boss is around very much on this kind of job so I could always slip on my boots when he wasn't there. I'd get to spend a lot of time outdoors and the fresh air would do me good. I'm a decent fire pit cook and I'm already pretty good with a slingshot as long as it is the kind with the rubber bands and not the kind you whirl around. I never could get the hang of those. Oh sure, the pay can't be that great but then your expenses wouldn't be that much either, especially if you developed a taste for mutton. Besides, it would give me a chance to finally learn how to play a mean blues harmonica like I've always promised myself I would.

I know we have all heard about what naughty shepherds do to their sheep, but with me that would never be a problem. I could never have carnal relations with something I planned to later shave and eat. I could shave and eat a badger, but I wouldn't try to hump it first. Not to mention sheep kick really hard!

As far as tools go, I've got all the camping gear and I'm sure I can purchase one of those long crooked sticks online somewhere. I might even grow a studly beard and just crop it off when we sheared the sheep. It would be something of a dirty job but I can't imagine the sheep complaining about my smell. It might become strong enough to frighten away predators. I'm not sure the company would pay for conjugal visits, but I will be sure to ask when I go for the interview. So if you hear of any shepherding jobs with a liberal policy on beer drinking, drop me a line won't you.

Doc