Blog 1005 – 05.26.2018
Private Tiny Dancer, Don’t Stop
A year or so after my dad passed I found some his oft told stories typed up and I edited them just a bit for spelling and grammar what little of it I recalled from Mrs. Sorrels’ ninth grade English class. One of my favorite Christian writers, Uncle Buddy Robinson, had his publisher complain about his punctuation and in many cases lack of it. So he typed up several pages of commas, periods, question marks and all the typewriter keys that he thought might be punctuation marks and sent them in with his next article and typed, “Put them wherever you want them.” I thought that was a fine if funny idea. I picked one of dad’s favorite lines, “More Than My Share” for a title and put a cool picture of him in his sailor suit with a grass-skirted hula girl next to him, taken in Honolulu when he passed through there in his war in the South Pacific during WWII. I spent two hours there in 1970 on the way to my war in South Vietnam, while our plane refueled (Got no hula girl picture made, would have but none would stand still for it.) Sons follow in their father’s foot steps for good or ill.
My daddy had his pretty hula girl if only for a moment and a picture but I have one that rides with me everywhere in my truck making every turn and bump a delight as she dances privately just for me. Ten years ago a “lap dance” would cost you twenty bucks (the length of a short song) in even the cheapest “gentlemen’s club” in Houston, Texas, home of the first female breast implants, per the movie, “Breast Men” which detailed silicon surgical breast enhancement and happily showed several remarkable examples. My pretty dancing girl, who reminds me a lot of my lovely departed mother, Alene, (mom is most boys first and forever sweetheart) dances just for me, free, and to make me smile – and do I ever.
I saw the new Deadpool 2 movie last weekend, twice. It is a wonderfully funny and touching “family movie.” But I do not recommend taking children under thirty as all the smaller children’s questions might be too distracting and the older ones’ rude remarks, even more so than Deadpool’s, far more disturbing and distracting. Do take a date maybe even a spouse, or someone else’s spouse. You and they may get some ideas you might like to explore after the movie.
But back to my tiny private dancer, she stays in great shape from all that dancing and always has a loving and lustful look on her face just for me. See, she is turned to face me and to perform just for me not for the rare passenger in the seat next to me. Ladies, if your man complains about his commute in the car back and forth to work or those long vacation road trips get him a little dash board companion (better than a plastic Jesus) for his driving trips. There might even be something in it you. Just take a hint from Sexy Dave.
Dance for me, Baby!
(Click the play arrow to watch the lovely Alene look-a-like dance)
Your friend and fellow traveler,