Bellevue, NE, Sarpy
(I hope the language is not “wrong” for this section of the board. If so, let me apologize, and ask someone to direct me to a better location. Thanks. Broker6.)
Bubba And The Ayatollah
by ©Richard Budig, 1999
Remember when our guys
were prisoners in Iran,
being held by the Ayatollah
and his band of merry men?
Well, that really funked me out.
Got one of those bumper stickers
that said, “The Ayatollah Is A Ass-ahola.”
Now I’m what you’d call a slight man.
Five-eight, one-sixty pounds,
gentle eyes, and mousy hair.
Not a feather ruffles when I walk by.
Guys in bars with ball caps never look up.
But when I put that sticker on my bumper
I started getting honks and thumbs up
from huge guys in ball caps and pick ups.
Some even came up to me at stop lights,
leaned in my window, shook my hand,
and stuffed their cards in my shirt pocket.
“You ever need anything, jus’ call, li’l fella.”
Their cards all read pretty much the same:
“Bubba’s Concrete And Midnight Towing,”
“Big Jesse’s Roofing And Radiator Repair.”
At first, these guys scared the be-Jesus outta me,
but then, I got to thinking. I also got a ball cap.
It said, “Billy Bob’s Titty Bar And Bingo Parlor.”
And underneath that, in real small letters,
it said, “Bongo Drums” and “Virgins Converted.”
And after that, my life sorta changed.
Big guys on the street walked closer
and bikers started looking directly at me
and hiking their thumbs at babes on the back.
Suddenly, I was feelin’ good about myself.
I walked among giants and gnarly bikers
whose women had steel things on their wrists.
I’ve become a lot more militant since then.
You just never know whose gonna honk
or whose gonna point you to their women.
All that Iran stuff is behind us now.
I’m glad of that, but I still have my cap,
and I still have all those business cards.
Somehow, they remind me of that time,
and of our guys alone in those cells in Iran,
and it comes to me -- a guy just never knows
when he’s gonna need a friend.