The Man From Plains

(Or So I'm Told)

The man from Plains was born in a house with no running water and an outhouse out back, or so I’m told, so I’m told.

A southerner who was friends with rednecks and negroes and treated ‘em all the same, or so I’m told.

A smile with too many teeth and big red lips that kissed one girl only for seventy-seven years. Or so I’m told.

Hey, you two! Get back to work!

The man from Plains admitted once in a magazine known for boobies and butts, that he’d lusted in his heart, many times.

Hunh… who knew one lust could lust in one’s heart?

I’m told he was a pretty good farmer, and a nuclear (nucular?) engineer, too. I’m told he earned his way to the Naval Academy and served on a submarine, and he did it all for peanuts.

Guys like that, they don’t get to be President, or so I’m told. So I’m told.

Exceptin’ when they do.

I’m told at the time he was President, he was a pretty lousy President. Gasoline lines from Atlanta to Plains were a pain in the gas. And the hostage crisis with those goddamn Iranians, (excuse me… Persians), oy, vay, don’t ask.

The day after he was kicked to the curb, his successor, a great President, (or so I’m told, and a fine actor, too!) whose best work shared billing with a chimpanzee, removed the solar panels the Man from Plains had installed on the White House roof. Now why’d he do that? (The guy who moved in, not the guy who put them there…) Why’d he do that? I scratch my head like Bonzo scratched his bum.

The day after he was kicked to the curb, those goddamn Iranians, (excuse me… Persians), released the hostages. Maybe they didn’t want to piss off the guy who starred in movies with monkeys. Or maybe they wanted to embarrass the Man from Plains.

It worked.

But then, the Man from Plains also brokered a peace agreement between Biblical enemies from Biblical times. Anwar Sadat and Menachim Begin. Egypt and the Israelites. The peace holds to this day.

Take that Benjamin Netanyahu.

He won the Nobel Peace Prize for it, too. (The Man from Plains, not the other two. In fact, one of the other two was killed for his trouble. That’ll teach you to make peace!)

The Man from Plains built a shitload of houses for poor people all over the place. From rednecks in Appalachia to negroes in Africa. Jesus was a carpenter, he said. If it was good enough for Him, it was good enough for a Plain Man from Plains. Yessir, he liked everybody. Treated ‘em all the same. Or so I’m told.

He taught Sunday school. Every Sunday. No sleeping in.

But here’s the kicker. Today, when they all gathered to say nice things about him, we all saw Barack and Donald share a “private” moment, (at least as private as it gets on National tee-vee!) where they were seen laughing together! Busted! Caught! Donald and Barack! Barack and Donald! Laughing together! A real helluva laugh, too. Not one meant for the cameras. Who said what to who? I almost don’t care, the thing that made them laugh so, these two guys that hate each other.

I say we give the Man from Plains another Nobel Peace Prize! Don’t you?

And at the end of it all, he pulled executive privilege one last time. He cadged a ride home in a big ol’ 747 on tax-payer dollars. To Plains, Georgia. Where the Man from Plains can sleep again with his gal of seventy-seven years, maybe buried under a nice Georgia peach tree. On the grounds of the habitat they built to their own humanity.

Together.

Forever.

Or so I’m Told.

This song was a favorite of ol’ Jimmy’s. Or so I’m told.

The music was written by Hoagy Carmichael with lyrics by Stuart Gorrell. Some say Hoagy wrote it for his sister, Georgia, not the state. Ray Charles had some hard times in Georgia during racist, segregated times and refused to play there. When the state asked to adopt his version as the official state song, he relented, and thus ended the long-standing feud.

I like these little musical moments recorded in our home. It’s one-and-done; no editing or do-overs. What’cha get is what’cha get. They’re imperfect, which I think is part of their charm. But they are from the heart.

See ya’ soon, I am Alki (the Man from Pittsburgh)