Let’s build a wall around Texas
A mile high and fifty yards wide;
Let’s build a wall around Texas
And keep all those yahoos inside.
The state of Texas was admitted to the Union on December 29, 1845 and since then it’s been nothing but trouble. We should have known better, really. First, Spain got rid of this albatross, then France. Nobody would have anything to do with the place except Mexico and everybody knows they’re not very fussy. You’re not going to believe this but the United States actually had to engage in fisticuffs to retain Texas. The new state’s annexation in 1846 set off a chain of events which led to the Mexican-American War, which, alas, we won. Texas showed its gratitude fifteen years later by seceding from the Union in early 1862, our second big chance to get rid of this piece of smoldering landfill. But no, we had to let them back in. We were ultimately rewarded for our generosity by the state’s political spawning of the Bush family, then Governor Rick Perry and finally the current holder of the position, one Greg Abbott, who has just called for a complete rewrite of the Constitution. No, not his Constitution—ours. Where’s Lou Costello when you really need him?
Governor Greg Abbott, of course, was a big supporter of the Jade Helm conspiracy mentioned in an earlier Flying Pie column. This foolishness emanated from U.S. Army plans to conduct military training exercises over an eight-week period extending from July to September of 2015. The activities would take place in several states but only the Texans felt it was necessary for armed, colander-wearing posses to camp outside the proceedings and keep an eye on things. The New York Times gently called this mania “traversing the outer edges of political paranoia.” Less kind publications shouted “WACKOS STAND GUARD AGAINST ARMY!” Needless to say, the Army conducted their business, eventually went home, and Texas, for better or worse, remains intact.
Earlier this year, the state of Texas enacted an “open carry” law which allows its citizens to pack heat in public and just about anywhere in private where the property owner permits it. There haven’t been any gunfights in the streets yet but give it time. On the first day of open carry, however, one proud gun-toter was robbed of his weapon by another, who liked the looks of the thing. The thief then sped away, unimpeded by the compromising handicap of his flip-flops. Just another day in Texas.
And now we get the final insult, an amorphous lump called Ted Cruz, who had the good fortune to be born in Canada and the bad luck to wind up in Texas. A quick study, Cruz made the best of a bad situation by taking a brief look around and realizing there was hay to be made by appealing to the intellectual level of his fellow Texans, which hovers somewhere between “goat” and “troglodyte.” When he first ran for President—yes, that’s right, of the U.S.—nobody paid any attention to him. But this is the Year Of The Coo-Coo-Head so anything is possible, even the ascension of Ted Cruz, who is now running first or second in most of the GOP primary polls. So thanks for another smack on the noggin, Texas. What would we do without you?
Some of us are ready to find out. This also being The Year Of The Wall, I would suggest placing one around the entire periphery of The Lone Star State. Mexico would probably pay for it since it would prevent their people from inadvertently stumbling in and, more important, it would keep all those Texans from stumbling out. If it’s good enough for Donald Trump, it’s good enough for me. Let’s consider:
The Wall
A wall, as we all know, is only as good as its weakest points. It is inevitable, therefore, that even Texans would eventually figure out it might be possible to fly over the wall. Thus, Texas would become a No Fly Zone—no aircraft in, none out. Deterrence would be provided by a newly-minted Oklahoma Air Force, a 24-hour-a-day operation. For years now, Oklahomans have been looking to put those snooty Texans in their places and this would give them ample opportunity. A few rocket-launchers on the wall top would help fill in the holes.
And just in case anybody is thinking of building a mile-high ladder, you can forget that right now. The vast avenue at the top of the structure would be manned by heavily-armed citizens of Mexico and the surrounding states of Louisiana, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Colorado and New Mexico, where jobs are at a premium and marksmen come cheap. If anybody is thinking of taking a page from El Chapo’s book, tunnels won’t work either. We’re mining the landscape for miles around. What lives in Texas stays in Texas. There’s just one small problem.
What about Austin? Practically all the worthwhile people in Texas have fled there to escape the horrors of the rest of the state. Are we merely to abandon them for a situation which is not of their making? Do we seem like that kind of people to you? No, indeed! So here’s our Plan. We will build yet another wall around Austin to protect it from the rest of the state. Some of you will remember the Berlin Airlift at the end of the Second World War when the U.S., England and the Soviet Union divided up and occupied Germany. Berlin, the German Capitol, was located far inside the Russian zone and was separated into East and West. When the Russians blockaded West Berlin, it was necessary for the U.S. and the United Kingdom to airlift food and fuel into the city from Allied airbases in western Germany. Similarly, we would airlift pens, pencils and Apple electronics equipment into Austin, perhaps with a monthly delivery of pate de foie gras. It’s the humane thing to do. But we still have one small problem. The Texas state government is also located in Austin and they are a large part of the problem. Can we put yet another wall around the Capitol to prevent these varmints from being the beneficiaries of our largesse.? It’s a poser and we’re working diligently on a solution. These things take a while to iron out, but, as you can see, the bulk of the work has been done. The cement-mixers are moving in tomorrow, with a realistic goal of completion in 24 months. We’re sorry about inconveniencing all of you cross-country travelers with the detours on Interstate 10 but some problems just can’t be averted. We’re doing this for the greater good. And the economic enhancement of Oklahoma.
Let’s build a wall around Texas
A mile high and fifty yards wide;
Let’s put in a moat
And a few Police Boats
And keep all those yahoos inside.
About Those Who Live In Glass Houses….
Well, that’s all fine, dissenters may aver, but there are other places equally reprehensible. What about Mississippi? What about South Carolina? Indeed—what about Florida? Okay, first of all we’d like to point out that none of those other places were responsible for the untimely death of Davy Crockett. But we do have to admit, you certainly have a point. We also have a governor of diminished capacity and two low-life presidential candidates. Jeb Bush, however, is a harmless old lady and Marco Rubio is just out of grade school. Neither of them is likely to preside over armed posses or attempt to rewrite the Constitution. On the other hand, Ted Cruz will undoubtedly bomb Madagascar on his first day in office. We have to keep our priorities straight.
We Have A Winner!
The runaway train that is Powerball has finally pulled into the station. Three smiling people, one each in Florida, Tennessee and California have won kazillion dollar prizes. Hopefully, this will put a stop to the egregious lines at the 7-11, where it now takes two hours to buy a loaf of bread. Maniacs all over the country have been happily standing in line for hideous amounts of time, goofy in the notion they’re about to take down The Big One. In Primm Valley, California, just west of the Nevada state line, deprived Silver Staters stretch single-file out into the desert waiting for their chance. Hours have been spent by otherwise sensible people planning what they’ll do with their inevitable fortunes. State lotteries offering a few million dollars are sniffed at by these would-be billionaires. Ten million? That’s chump change to the Powerball crowd. Siobhan, by the way, is going to build a 10,000-animal goat refuge with her winnings. Hopefully, nowhere around here.
This is all well and good. Everybody is having fun dreaming their preposterous dreams. But now we have what the TV news always calls The Lucky Winners, people whose dreams are no longer preposterous, citizens who are set for life. Or are they? Unimaginably, 70% of lottery winners wind up broke within seven years. Worse yet, several winners have died tragically. Abraham Shakespeare won a nice $30 million in 2006 and sought refuge from a siege of friends and family in the calming company of one Dee Dee Moore. Never trust a girl named Dee Dee. Moore eventually gained Shakespeare’s confidence and he foolishly transferred his assets to her to avoid the money hounds. Then, in 2009, Abraham suddenly disappeared. In 2012, Dee Dee was sentenced to mandatory life without parole for his murder by a judge who called her “cold, calculating and cruel,” a possible understatement. Nobody knows what happened to the winnings.
Powerball winner David Edwards, a former drug addict and felon, won a $27 million jackpot in 2001 in South Florida. He quickly purchased a $1.6 million house in Palm Beach Gardens, three racehorses, a fiber optics company, a Lear Jet, a limousine business, a $200,000 Lamborghini Diablo and a partridge in a prune tree. With whatever was left over, Edwards and his wife returned to drug use, lost all his money in just a few years and wound up living in a storage unit surrounded by…ahem…human feces. He later died in hospice care at age 58.
Jeffrey Dampier won the $20 million Illinois lottery and, being a generous man, lavished his family with cash and gifts. Apparently, this wasn’t enough for his sister-in-law, Victoria Jackson. Never trust a girl named Victoria. Jeffrey was kidnapped by Jackson and a boyfriend seven years later and shot in the back of the head. The deadly duo was catured, convicted and left to rot in jail for the remainder of two life sentences. Little good that does for poor old Jeffrey.
Urooj Khan, a 46-year-old Chicagoan died a slightly less violent death one (count ‘em—1) day after pulling in a cool million in the Windy City. Gee, murderers, a little patience, if you will. An autopsy revealed that Khan died of cyanide poisoning. Both his sister-in-law (there seems to be a trend developing with these sisters-in-law) and her father were prime suspects but no one was ever charged. Urooj’s widow and his daughter split the leavings.
But enough cheery anecdotes. Let’s move on to Michael “Live It Up” Carroll, 26, who won the equivalent of $15 U.S. million in a British jackpot back in 2002. Michael was neither betrayed nor murdered by relatives and he had a wonderful time with his money. He spent it all on parties, cocaine, hookers, quad bikes, demolition-derby cars, flashy jewelry and a villa in Spain, well earning his nickname, “The Lottery Lout.” Okay, so it didn’t end all that well with Mike being tossed into jail on a silly drug possession conviction in 2006. But what the hell—nobody’s perfect.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: Oh, that would never happen to me, I’m far too clever, I have it all planned. Well, that may be what Abraham and David and Jeffrey and Urooj thought, too. But you can hire all the financial planners, all the CPAs, all the tax lawyers you want. You can read strategy books and talk to bankers and check out the stock market. You can build a security booth at your front gate and staff it with ninjas. None of it is a match for the all-consuming guile of the Sister-In-Law.
That’s all, folks….
