Elect the N-Word

Jamie Parker called from Pattaya last night. I was already in bed. He was getting up from a night of drinking. There's a twelve hour difference between Palm Beach and there. He's already in the future.

"How goes the hunt for a 90-year-old heiress?" Jamie dreams of my marriage to an wealthy dowager with three weeks to live.

"Haven't met on yet." The wizened widowers strolled around the local supermarket loaded with diamonds. None of them look my way. They're more interested in the young valets. I couldn't blame them.

"Well, you better get working on it. You've been gone 5 weeks and already the girls at the Buffalo are forgetting your name."

"No great loss." I hadn't short-timed with any since Big Head was fired for sassing the diminutive mama-san with the crow's voice ie Sandy.

"I see that Hillary is going to quit finally."

"That's not what she said in her speech the other night."

"I read on the internet that she's been threatened with an ambassadorship to Zimbabwe unless she backs Obama."

"She has a point. More votes than Obama."

"Doesn't matter. The system doesn't work that way and it's time we elect an n-word." Jamie was living in Thailand. You can't say the n-word in America without getting people upset or riled up about n-words. "First back came over in the 1500s. That's almost 500 years, but no one would be considering Obama if it wasn't for OJ."

"OJ." I was getting the feeling that Jamie hadn't slept last night, meaning he was back with his go-go dancer. She liked Ice. "You aren't with Ort, are you?"

"No, she went to Singapore. Calls saying she missing me and that when she comes back we'll have a big party. I miss her too, but she's too dangerous for a man my age."

I knew full well what he meant about the ice-driven go-go dancer.

"So what's your OJ angle?"

"You see OJ's trial proved that even a black man. A black man guilty of murdering his wife and her lover can buy justice in America. Same as a guilty white person. That was a big a step for equality as the March to Selma and white people had to realize they couldn't lynch blacks anymore."

"OJ to Obama. I get it." I didn't, but hoped to change the subject by asking, "Who you voting for?"

"Don't know yet."

"You're not voting for the Old Guy?"

"No way. He's too old and his wife looks like one of those Palm Beach bitches you're trying to marry."

I had seen plenty of Cindy McCain clones in Bentleys over the past week. Blonde with their face drawn tighter than a snare drum. I'll be happy to end up with one of them and so would my wife and mistress, both of whom had given the green light to any profitable philandering as long as some of the money falls their way.

"I'm voting for Obama." This even though he had not come up for the legalization of marijuana consumption. "His speech the other evening was good. Not great and he ripped off Martin Luther King and several other orators, but he plays basketball and you know how much I like basketball."

"You better not play any."

"I won't." No one exercises at the playground on Palm Drive.

"Listen I gotta go. I tell all the girls on Soi 6 you're coming back."

"Thanks."

"And your mistress is getting big I guess."

"Eight months pregnant. If it's a boy I'm naming him O'Bama Smith."

"A good Irish name. See yah."

My contact with the other side of the planet was over. I turned on NPR, the public news radio. There was no mention of Hillary abandoning her forlorn campaign. The gum-bumpers were merely blathered about Obama's chances against the old white guy saying McCain will be playing the military card any chance he gets.

After all it was his plane that was struck by a missile on the flight deck of the USS Forrestal. 134 dead, but he got away. Someone was talking about McCain's partying too. Hell, it was the 60s and so what if he collaborated with the North Vietnamese. A man has to live.

If he comes out for legalization of cocaine, then I'll consider switching my vote, but for now it's the N-word all the way. Barack Obama 2008.

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